“Whoa, wait. Mal.”

“Don’t wanna wait.” Her hands got as busy as her mouth. Had she actually thought she didn’t like men? She certainly liked this one. So much that she wanted to gobble him up in quick and greedy bites.

“How come people always say you gotta wait? I want you to . . .” She clamped her teeth on his earlobe, then whispered a creative demand.

“Oh, God.”

He wasn’t entirely sure if it was a prayer of thanks or a plea for help. But he was sure his willpower had a very specific limit, and he was fast approaching it.

“Okay, okay, let’s just calm down here a minute. Malory.” She slid her body over his, and when her eager fingers danced down, down, he felt his eyes do a slow roll to the back of his head. “Now hold on.”

“I am.” She tipped her head back to send him a wicked grin.

“Ha, ha. Yeah, you are.” He closed his hands over her wrists and with no little regret lifted her busy hands to his shoulders.

He was out of breath and hard as stone. “We’ve got a choice here. You can hate me in the morning, or I can.” Her eyes sparkled up at him, and her lips were curved in a feline smile that had his throat going dry. “God, you’re pretty when you’re half plowed. You should go lie down now.”

“Okay.” She pressed herself against him, gave her hips a suggestive little grind. “Let’s.”

Slippery knots of lust tied and tangled in his belly. “I’m just going to back away from the beautiful drunk woman.”

“Uh-uh.” She rose on her toes to rub her lips over his again, felt the desperate plunge of his heart. “You’ll never make it out the door. I know what I’m doing, and I know what I want. Does that scare you?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Honey, I came by to talk to you, about something I’m currently incapable of remembering. Why don’t I make us some coffee and we’ll . . .”

“I guess I have to do everything.” In one fluid motion, she slid the sleep shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

“Oh, sweet Jesus.”

Her body was pink and white—delicious—with that elegant cloud of hair tumbling down to tease her breasts. Her eyes, deeply blue and suddenly full of knowledge, fixed on his as she stepped close to him again.

Her arms had wound around his neck, and her mouth was a hot, silky temptation on his. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “I’ll take very good care of you.”

“I bet.” Somehow his hands had gotten lost in the sexy mass of her hair. His body was a maze of aches and needs, and reason couldn’t find the exit. “Malory, I’m no hero.”

“Who wants one?” With a laugh, she nipped at his jaw. “Let’s be bad, Flynn. Let’s be really bad.”

“Since you put it that way.” He swung her around, reversing their position so she was trapped between the door and his body. “I hope to God you remember whose idea this was, and that I tried to—”