So he did.

“You know what?” she murmured, still covering her eyes. “I’m going now.” Then she dropped her hands and shoved at his chest, which shot a white-hot arrow of pain right through his ribs. Doubling over, he groaned, vaguely aware of her horrified gasp.

“Oh, Ty-” Her hands came around his bare middle.

“Damn it-”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry.”

He sucked in a careful breath and looked at her when she said it again. Her hands on his skin moved lightly, not a doctor’s hands, but a woman’s, as she murmured her apologies over and over, as she tried to soothe. And little by little his vision cleared so that he could straighten slightly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I’ll let you know when the stars clear from my head.”

“God. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

“I…wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.”

“I know.”

But she already had. Nicole could feel it. She just didn’t understand. He was the one who didn’t want a relationship. He was the one who’d kept her at arm’s length with his light, easygoing, teasing attitude. He was the one…

Wasn’t he?

“Nicole.” That was it, that was the only word to escape his lips, but his gaze seemed to say so much more. Eyes hot, he lowered his head so that their lips were only a breath apart. “Why did you come?”

She licked her lips again. “I told you, I-”

“Why, Nicole?”

She closed her eyes, trying to hide the truth from him. She’d come to be in his arms. She’d come to give him what she’d held back all this time. She’d come to see if she was going crazy, or if this…this thing went both ways.

“Nicole?”

“Y-yes?”

“I should tell you, watching you struggle at this social stuff is an incredible turn-on. Knowing you’re usually buried in work, that you never look up from that work for anyone, and you are now…because of me…”

She stared down at his hand as it entwined with hers and tugged. Then she was staring at his strong, sleekly muscled back while he led her through the house.

“I’m taking you to my bedroom now,” he said over his shoulder. “Stop me.”

She kept following him.

He tugged her into a room lit only by the moonlight dancing through the wall of windows. Then he flipped on the light and she was blinking at him like an owl.

“I want to see this.” He stepped so close she could see nothing but him. Around her, she had an impression of a large room, an equally large bed with tossed blankets and sheets.

Then he backed her to that bed, his eyes glowing with intent and emotion. “I think you came for this, which just so happens to be what I’m looking for as well.”

“You- But you’re hurt.” Since when did she stutter? The mattress bumped her high on the back of her thighs. Her heart was drumming so fast and so loud it was a wonder he hadn’t asked her if she was having a heart attack.

“Say I’m wrong.” He lifted a finger and nudged off the other strap of her overalls. The bib fell to her waist, leaving just her thin tank top, which hid nothing from him, including the fact she was aroused. Very aroused.

His head dipped, and for a long moment he just looked, making her nipples tighten and pucker against the thin material all the more. “Nicole.” His voice was husky. “You’re not saying no.”

“I-”

“No starts with N.” He used both hands now, gliding his fingers up and down her arms. He met her gaze. Waited.

She licked her lips, which wrestled a low groan from him. And then he leaned in even closer. “Say it. Say no.”

“I don’t want to say it.” Almost before she’d finished, his mouth closed over hers. She opened to him and he groaned again. Then he was inside, tasting her as if he was a starving man and she was a ten-course meal. Which worked for her because suddenly, or maybe not so suddenly, she was starving too, starving for this.

Breaking only for air, he raised his head and stared at her from slumberous eyes before he came at her again, changing the angle of the kiss, settling his mouth more firmly over hers. Her lips clung to his as her fingers fisted in his hair, holding him to the plundering, caressing kiss because she didn’t want him pulling back again. She wanted this mindlessness, craved this hot, sensual heat, and needed even more.

They broke apart for air again, and stared at each other. His hands lifted to untangle her arms from around his neck. He danced his fingers back up, wrapping them around her spaghetti straps. Still holding her gaze in his, he gave a hard tug, peeling the material down to her waist, exposing her bare breasts.

Dropping his gaze, his chest rose and fell with his uneven breathing as he looked at the breasts she knew damn well were too small. Thinking it, she lifted her hands but he caught them, held them at her sides.

“Are you saying no?” he asked thickly.

“Ty-”

“Are you?”

His eyes were fathomless, his body tense. Against her belly she could feel him, hard and pulsing. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way she hadn’t been wanted in too long. “I’m not saying no,” she said softly.

The tension left him in a long sigh. “Thank God,” he murmured, and let go of her wrists to cup her breasts. “You’re beautiful.”

And in that moment, she felt it.

“And these…” His thumbs rasped over her nipples, making her let out a horrifyingly needy sound. “Oh yeah, these…” Bending his head, he swirled his tongue over one, then blew a soft, warm breath over it, forcing that sound from her again. “Mmm. A perfect mouthful.” Proving the point, he sucked her into his mouth, laving her with his tongue over and over until she’d refisted her hands in his hair and tossed back her head, panting for air.

It wasn’t enough. Kicking off her shoes made her even shorter but she didn’t care. Rising up on the balls of her feet, she hooked a leg over his hips and strained against the swollen ridge of his erection.

That ripped a deep, deep groan of pleasure from his chest and he pulled back to look at her with eyes heavy with desire. “Last chance.”

She tugged at the tie of his sweats, making him let out a laughing moan. “Okay, so you don’t want a last chance.” With a not-so-gentle shove, he pushed her backwards, tumbling her to the mattress. He put a knee on the bed and grabbed the hem of her overalls. Looked at her. Pulled. Tossing them over his shoulder, he did the same with her tank top, leaving her in just a light-blue silky thong.

“Now.” His other knee hit the bed. Towering over her, he looked down and let out a smile that made her swallow hard. “Let’s discuss this lingerie thing you have going.” With one finger he traced the silk down her hip, over her mound, stopping just shy of the spot that would make her a complete wanton.

“I- It’s-”

“And this stuttering thing. That’s new.” His smile was tight and just a bit intimidating as he hooked a finger in the panties and whipped them off.

“You’re overdressed,” she managed to say when he just looked down at her, his eyes shining like crystal and very intense.

“Yeah. About that.” On his knees leaning over her, he’d gone utterly still. “I should tell you, I can’t move.”

“Oh, Ty!” Scampering up to her knees, she faced him, putting her hands on his bare, hot, deliciously hard chest. “I’m sorry, I-”

He put a finger to her lips. “Don’t even think about being sorry or turning back into a doctor.” Very slowly, very carefully, he lay down on his back. Then let out a slow breath.

“Okay?” she asked, leaning over him now, their positions reversed.

Lifting his hands, he cupped the breasts that were in his face. “Very okay.” Raising his head, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, leaving his hands free to skim down her spine, down the backs of her thighs, which he urged open. Grabbing one leg, he pulled, so that she fell over his chest, straddling him.

She was careful to brace herself high, on his pecs, rather than press on his ribs. “Still okay?”

His hands glided up her legs, her hips, her waist, cupping and squeezing her breasts before sliding down the quivering muscles of her stomach. “So damn okay.” His hands met over her belly button, and his thumbs danced down, down, until they slid into the curls at the apex of her thighs.

“Ty-”

“Oh yeah. Love it when you say my name like that. Like you’re hot and shaky and on the edge. On the edge for me.”

She was. Hot and shaky and on the edge. For him. She ached with it, ached with the desire and emptiness and the need for him to fill her up.

“I’ve wanted you since that first moment I saw you,” he said, sinking his thumbs lower, making her gasp. “Say you want me back.”

She cried out when he gave one long, slow, sure stroke of his thumb right where she needed it. “I want you.”

“Then take me. Take us both the hell away.” His voice was rough, and when she lifted up, yanked down his sweats and came right back on him, gliding hot, damp skin to hot, damp skin, he groaned.

“Nicole-” He tried to surge up, hurt himself, and let out a pained, frustrated growl.

“Shh.” She pressed him back. “Let me-”

“Yes.”

“Don’t move.”

“I won’t if you will,” he swore, and their next kiss was an avaricious feeding frenzy of mouth and teeth and tongues and wordless murmurs and demands, while their hands tore at each other. She stroked his chest, then ran her fingers down his belly to wrap a fist around the hot, velvety steel of him, while he did something magical with his fingers, leaving her a gasping, panting mass of nerve endings. The tension inside her built and pulled and made her crazy, more so when he rubbed his straining erection back and forth over her exposed, swollen flesh.

“Condom,” he said through gritted teeth. “Nightstand.”

“Got it.” She tore it open, straddled him again. Took him in her hands and protected them both. Then he took over, guiding her over him so that he brushed against her slick opening. Gripping her hips, pulling her down as he thrust up, he slid home, stretching her, filling her to the hilt.