His mouth descended, but skipped her lips and slid down past her chin, taking her breath with him. His hands moved, almost of their own accord, across her body and down the slender shape of her until they came to the parting of her thighs. They stilled, and so did her heart.

“For me, lady. Let this happen for me.”

She sighed, dug her hands into his hair, and knew that she’d never be able to deny him.

“I’ll do anything for you, Cole.”

He groaned—a quiet sigh of desperate need that feathered across her belly. His mouth slid down across the tops of her thighs and sampled the texture, then paused. His breath on her skin was a warning of where he was about to go.

Debbie’s eyes flew open in shock and then fell shut, heavy with passion, as Cole moved into unexplored territory with his mouth and hands. She gasped. And then conscious thought disappeared.

Nothing existed outside the man…and his mouth…and what he was doing with his hands. It was all she could do just to focus on breathing. Everything he did seemed to make it stop. Every stroke of his tongue sent shockwaves of sensation rocketing through her, and every caress of his hands turned her body to liquid fire.

Cole felt the impending rush building beneath his touch. Every gasp, every moan she uttered made him crazy with need to be inside her when this happened.

But there was also the need to give without reservation to this woman. She’d already given so much and asked nothing in return. He knew what she wanted, but the only thing he was capable of giving her now, at this moment, was joy. A future was uncertain. He chose to live for the moment.

Sweet heat burst in his hands. He shuddered, feeling her passion as surely as if it were his own. And then it was. Cole moved upward, captured her gasps of pleasure and tasted her cry as release spiraled within her.

“Love you, love you,” she whispered against his cheek.

Ah, Deborah Jean, I love you, too. But his thought was never voiced as Cole moved between her legs and settled himself into the heat. A single thrust ended his last sane thought. After that, he could remember nothing save the feel of her legs around him, her hands on his body, and her tears on his face as he took them back into the fire.

*  *  *

“Good morning…California!” the disc jockey cried as Cole’s clock radio came on with maddening precision. “It’s six a.m. and another day awaits. Here’s a slow and easy wake-up call from Miss Bonnie Raitt with her latest hot single. Like the lady says, ‘I can’t make you love me, if you don’t.”’