“Not yet, angel. I’m not done.”

Her bare feet stretched as she stood on tiptoe. His hands cupped her breasts. Then he took her by the nipples, right through her top, watching her face as he teased them, making each nipple harder than she could have imagined with gentle tugs. His mouth lowered over hers again.

The double stimulation continued. Then he opened his hands and cupped each breast again, slowly rubbing, melting her with pleasure that went right to her core.

Let him take her. All of her. The continuing kiss kept Mary Beth from begging him to do just that.

After a while he stopped and simply held her, letting her rest her head on his chest. He stroked her damp hair.

“We need to take this inside.”

“Yes,” she breathed.

He bent and swept her off her feet, carrying her close to him. Mary Beth buried her face in his strong neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent, a mix of clean T-shirt and hot man. She clung to him as he got the screen door open and took her up the stairs with ease, as if she weighed next to nothing.

“Which room is yours?”

“Next one,” she murmured.

Parr went in. She let go of his neck and slid down. The bed was behind them. He got back to kissing her, taking his sweet time, exciting her in ways she hadn’t known existed. His touch, his body, his lips—she craved it all.

“Close the door,” she told him.

Reluctantly, Parr let go of her and moved across the room. Mary Beth didn’t know whether to fling herself onto the bed or stand there.

She stayed where she was, digging her bare toes into the soft carpet. His gaze narrowed when he turned away from the door and looked over her head.

“What kind of car does Sheila drive?”

Her heart sank. “A silver SUV.”

“I know that’s the road to Brickell. You tell me if that’s them coming toward us.”

Mary Beth stood on tiptoe, looking over the top of the curtain cautiously. “Oh no.”

Parr swore under his breath. “Get in the shower. You need a reason to look all rosy and glowing when they see you. I’ll go downstairs and—hell—fix myself a snack or something.”

He propelled her toward the bathroom. Mary Beth made no protest. She could cry in the shower if she had to, say something about the soap getting in her eyes.

“There’s tomatoes in the basket on the kitchen counter. I was out in the garden before you got here.”

“Okay. That’s your alibi.” He got her as far as the bath mat and didn’t even kiss her.

“Then don’t eat it,” she muttered. She peeled off her wet clothes, kicking them into a corner. Parr was just going to have to wing it without her. At least his mother knew that he was here.