He smiled, a slow, sexy smile. And then he kissed her, opening his mouth over hers, the taste of him going straight through her, so familiar, so good, so . . . hers that she moaned.

In response, he pressed that hard, hot body close, so close that the paint on her belly stuck them together like glue.

“I’m a mess,” she murmured.

“I know. I love you like this.” He cupped her head, his fingers entangled in her hair. “I love that you’ve lost all that carefulness when it comes to being with me.”

She really had. Which meant he had a direct route to the soft underside of her heart.

“That’s the benefit to going slow.” His mouth was at her ear, and he very gently sank his teeth into her lobe, enough to make her shiver in anticipation. “Drawing things out . . . you feel everything that much more. You feeling everything, Holly. Every little thing.”

Oh yeah, she was. And bigger things, too, such as his erection straining against her. She slid her fingers into his hair and brought his mouth back to hers, that mouth that she could never in a million years get enough of, every slow thrust of his tongue making her heart beat even faster.

“Holly?” His tongue glided along hers as his hand slowly slid up her leg, catching on the panties still at midthigh, which he simply tugged all the way off.

“Yes,” she managed. “I’m feeling every little thing. And the big ones, too.” She pressed against him. “Especially the big ones.”

He let out a low, rough laugh and backed her to the table, lifting her to it so she sat, gripping the metal beneath her. He nudged her legs open so he could step between, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark with passion, going even darker when she ran a hand over those mouthwatering abs of his. Freeing him from his shorts, she wrapped her hands around him and stroked, wrenching a satisfying groan from his lips as he thrust through her fingers, huge and silky hard, hot to the touch.

“Holly.” His voice was raspy and thick as his fingers slid between her thighs, jerking a gasp from her. “God, you drove me crazy this past half hour, wondering if you were as hot as I was.”

“I was. Am.”

“Good.” He dipped his head to watch himself touch her, and unable to stay still or quiet, she rocked her hips and let out a needy little whimper.

“Love the sound of you on the edge,” he whispered.

And she was most definitely on the edge. A sweaty, paint-covered, on-the-edge mess. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but with his hot gaze soaking her up, with his fingers taking her to new places, she’d never been more turned on in her life. “Pace.”