He had it bad for her. Caressing her back, he felt her willowy body curl into his like a heat-seeking missile as she let out another long breath.

How could she walk away from this?

“I’m afraid it’s not over,” she whispered.

Yeah. Him, too. He was afraid it’d never be over between them. And he was afraid that was okay. Really okay.

“Rick isn’t going to ever let it go.”

Right. Rick. Not him. Got it. Staring grimly over her head out the picture window that revealed the gorgeous day in the making, the ocean dotted with whitecaps and sailboats, he waited until he could speak evenly. “It’ll be over soon enough.”

He’d see to it.

“I didn’t want you to come here with me.”

“Yeah. You’ve mentioned that a time or two.”

“I didn’t want you to see any of my past.”

He understood that, too. What he didn’t understand was how such an amazing woman had come out of those circumstances, and at age sixteen. She hadn’t said; she’d been careful not to say, but he could only imagine what it had been like for her growing up under the care of Rick Stone.

It had to have been pure hell. Knowing it, picturing it made him want to go back there and do something about it. Even thinking about doing it gave him a rush of satisfaction that faded when Maddie let out another of those sighs that seemed to reach right in and grab him by the throat and not let go.

“I want Leena to be safe,” she said. “But I don’t think she is. I just feel like she’s in danger.”

“We’ll find her. Back at Sky High, we’ll use all our resources, and we’ll find her.”

She nodded but didn’t say anything.

She’d made plans to walk away… He was still having a helluva time processing that. But they’d been together now, both in bed and out of it, and things had changed. At least for him. Just standing there holding her, feeling her face burrow into the crook of his neck so that her lips were touching his skin, made him ache.

And also hard.

Nice show of self-control. But when it came to her, he had none. Knowing it, he let his mouth brush her temple. He told himself he was offering comfort and nothing more and managed to keep his hands light and easy on her back to prove it. That was him. Light and soothing.

But then she slid her hands beneath his shirt, putting her chilled fingers against his heated flesh, digging into the muscles of his back as if he was her anchor.

Feeling distinctly unsoothed, he got a little harder.

Clearly feeling his reaction, she pressed more fully against him, her breasts to his chest, her thighs to his, going for more of that comfort he told himself he was offering. God knew, she probably needed it. Hell, after the past twenty-four hours, he needed it, the simple comfort of knowing she was okay and safe and out of harm’s way.

This hug, that would do it. Yes sirree, that was all he was going to do. Keep hugging her.

“Brody,” she whispered in a sort of breathy tone, shooting his comforting theory all to hell.

“Yeah?”

“You’re…strange.”

“Um, thanks?”

“No. I mean…” She hesitated. “This is strange.”

“Actually, it happens every time you touch me.”

“I don’t mean that-” She actually laughed. “I like that.”

Okay, good. That was good.

“I mean you make me feel…soft.”

He stroked her skin. “You are soft.”

“Yeah, only with you.” She said this with marvel. “Brody?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that shower in there big enough for two?”

“For a grand, it sure as hell better be.”

That choked another laugh out of her, chasing more of that haunted misery from her eyes, and he smiled in relief, in affection, in…hell, so goddamn much he couldn’t even begin to name all the emotions coursing through him.

She couldn’t possibly walk away, not now…

“Do we really have time before we fly back to Sky High?” Her hands came around his sides, his ribs, sliding up to his chest, bringing his shirt with them. “I know how you are about time.” When she got the hem of his shirt up past his pecs, she leaned in and pressed her lips over his heart.

Killing him…

“Brody?”

“We have time,” he managed as she opened her mouth and flicked her tongue over his nipple. “When getting naked with the woman of your dreams is on the table, there’s always time.”

Her breath huffed against his skin. “I’m the woman of your dreams?”

“Dreams. Nightmares. Pick one.”

She laughed again, and the sound was so sweet he buried his face in her hair. “Listen, I’ve never really been much for worrying about other people’s feelings…”

“No,” she agreed, still kissing his chest, making her way over his collarbone.

“But you’ve had a rough night and-”

“Yeah.” Lifting her head, she locked gazes with him. “So?”

“So maybe this isn’t what you need.”

“It’s exactly what I need.” She pushed him until his hands fell from her. Another push had the back of his legs hitting the high mattress of the bed, piled with that luxurious thousand-dollar-a-night bedding.

One last push, and he fell back, and then she was crawling up his body and he couldn’t remember what he’d been about to say, not when she pulled off her clothes and then his and not when she straddled him.

Gripping her hips, he thrust up into her, his body already so tight he knew it was going to be over before they started if he didn’t slow her down. “Maddie-”

“If you say you want to go slow, I’m going to hurt you.”

He let out a half laugh, half groan, but it backed up in his throat at the look on her face. Stark need, and a good amount of desperation. She needed to lose herself, if only for a minute.

A fast minute, apparently.

She needed him. He’d never been needed by anyone a day in his entire life, and he realized something else-he liked it.

Grabbing his hands in hers, she entwined their fingers and bent over him. “No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“No to anything but this.”

Yeah, he was okay with that. Arching up, he caught her mouth with his. He let her take him fast and hard, and only when she’d burst beautifully all over him, did he make his move.

“What are you doing?” she gasped as he rolled.

Still inside her, he tucked her beneath him. “Guess.”

She gripped him tight. “Again?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, God.” Her breath caught in her throat with an audible click. “Brody…”

He loved the way she said his name. He really did. Loved the way she looked at him as if he was doing it for her, as if he was the only one who could do it for her.

“What do you suppose it says about us that the only place we get along is in the sack?” she asked breathlessly.

“It says that we should stay in the sack.”

She let out a short laugh and arched into him. “Okay, but-”

“If you say you want to go fast, I’m going to hurt you…”

“You won’t. You won’t ever hurt me.”

And wasn’t that the bottom line, and his own truth. His lips a breath from hers, he shook his head, then kissed her softly. “No, I won’t. I’ll never hurt you, Maddie.”

She opened her mouth to say something to that, maybe something sharp and just a little mean as she tended to do when he got beneath her skin, but he kissed her again and began to move with a slow, achingly perfect rhythm until they were both breathless, panting for air, gazes locked on each other with a blistering intensity such as he’d never known…

“I can’t believe…” She sounded so sincerely baffled. “I don’t get it…”

Neither did he. He wasn’t a repeater, and he knew damn well she wasn’t either, and yet here they were, repeating and repeating…

One of these times, any minute maybe, they’d get it out of their system, but for now-

“God,” she breathed, her hips moving faster, then faster still. “Brody…I’m going to-”

“Do it. Come-”

Her muscles contracted before he’d finished the word, milking him as she went over, and as he’d discovered about himself, about them in general, he could do nothing else but helplessly follow.

A few minutes later, when his toes had uncurled, Brody managed to summon enough energy to nuzzle at Maddie’s neck. “Hi.”

Looking dewy and sated, she opened her eyes. “Hi.”

“So we’ve come to an understanding about the fast thing,” he said. “Slow is better.”

“Actually, I’m still not sure.”

When he opened his mouth to protest, she kissed him quiet. “We might have to keep working at it. You know, until we come to a compromise.”

Liking the sound of that, he stroked a finger along her jaw, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Compromise has never been my strong suit.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hello, Ms. Pot, you might recognize me. I’m Mr. Kettle.”

“Hey, I compromise plenty.”

“How is vanishing a compromise?” he asked.

She rolled away to her back and stared at the ceiling. “It was never about you. It was before you, in fact.”

“It was two days ago.”

“Before this.” She gestured to their naked bodies. “Before we knew each other.”

“Well, at least you get that much about us.”

Her gaze swiveled back to his.

“I do know you,” he said quietly. “I get why you’re so tough, for instance. And resilient. And…”

Her eyes narrowed. “And…?”

“Strong. Capable.”

“I thought maybe you were going to go in another direction and say stubborn and unbending and selfish.”

“Stubborn and unbending, yes. Not selfish. Never selfish.”

She swallowed hard, as if moved by his words when she didn’t want to be. Not his stubborn-ass Maddie. She didn’t want to be moved by him at all.

Join my club, babe. He didn’t want to be moved by her either, and yet she broke his heart with every breath. “You know what I think?”

“You can think after what we just did? Because I’m pretty sure I blew most of my brain cells.”