Aria tucked an errant curl behind her ear, brushing him as she moved. Her touch made his gut clench with desire. His arm tightened around her waist, and before he could overthink the action, he drew her closer to him and lowered his lips to hers. He tasted her slowly and sweetly, glorying in the way she wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. Her hands burrowed beneath his shirt and smoothed over his stomach, and his muscles quivered as she explored him with her fingers. She tugged on his shirt, and he met her eyes, watching desire flare in them.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You looked like an angel.”

She stroked her hand over the outside of his trousers.

He shook his head. “We should stop.”

“I know,” she said. “But I’ve missed you.”

When she said things like that, she challenged his sanity. As if they had a mind of their own, his fingers fumbled with his shirt buttons, and when his shirt hung open, Aria pushed it from his shoulders and ran her hands greedily over him. Eli closed his eyes and fought his growing need. He couldn’t be with her. Look what had happened the last time they’d been careless.

Stop, you idiot.

She wasn’t making it easy for him to resist, though. With her small fingers feathering over his body, he was tempted to grab her and show her she was playing with fire.

All of a sudden, the hands left him. He felt bereft.

“No, you’re right,” she said. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her nipples protruded through the fabric of her top. “We need to stop.”

The words made no sense. All Eli could see were those heaving breasts, the lips that were puffy from his kisses, and the eyes that just begged for more.

“Aw, hell,” he muttered, returning to her mouth, then pulling away. “What if we just do it once?”

“Only once?” she echoed, pressed against the length of his body. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Okay.”

She knew she should behave more responsibly, but Eli was so damned appealing, with his kind words and hot body. Frankly, she didn’t want to be responsible, and part of her couldn’t resist the thought of being reckless with him again. Go after what you want, girl.

When he’d appeared at her cottage, looking untouchable, she’d wanted to run her hands through his hair, ruffle his clothes and muss him up. Now, she melted against his naked chest, loving the roughness of the hair beneath her fingers. Craving skin-on-skin contact, she pulled her top off and pressed her stomach against his. She slid her hand beneath his waistband and took him in her hand, delighted when a shudder ran through him as she tightened her grip and stroked.

“Aria,” he groaned, his forehead resting on hers, his breathing uneven. “Sweetheart.”