His arm locked around her back and he brought her up tight against his body, his lips brushing hers with exquisite gentleness. He looked hungry. His eyes darkened with a mixture of lust and something else, but his mouth was tender as he coaxed her lips to part for him. He held her with such strength she knew he could break her into pieces, yet she felt cherished. Protected. Maybe even loved. She didn’t know what love felt like, so she couldn’t really say, and then she couldn’t think because his lips firmed and her mouth opened for him and he was inside. Melting her.

His taste. Addicting. She lost herself in his mouth. In his taste. In everything Alonzo. It was strange that for such a big man he could be so gentle. He moved her backward, holding her carefully so that even in motion, his mouth on hers, he made certain she was safe. She felt as if she were dancing with him, floating backward. He kicked the door closed. The lock snicked automatically.

He kept her moving until she was in the center of the room. He lifted his head, his gaze moving over her face with stark possession. “Take off your shirt.”

She smiled tentatively at him even though a thousand butterflies took wing in her stomach. “You say that a lot.”

“I’ll be saying it even more. Off.”

She was wearing a button-down shirt and, because she couldn’t look away, she stared into his eyes as she slowly released each button from its respective hole. The shirt gaped open. He didn’t drop his gaze.

“Off. All the way off.” He clearly glimpsed the lacy bra, and he shook his head, his eyes reprimanding her. “Why in the world are you wearing a bra?”

“You weren’t home, remember? I was uncomfortable without you.” She admitted it even as she complied, slipping out of the shirt, almost letting it drop, but his hand closed over hers.

“Fold it. Neatly. Place it on the chair over there.”

His voice alone could make her go damp. Her breasts strained toward him, needing his touch. She felt sexy and his following his low orders. She very carefully folded her shirt, remembering how meticulous he’d been. She had to move around him to get to the chair and she felt his eyes following her as she placed her shirt in the center of the seat.

He crooked his finger at her and pointed to the spot in front of him. She went, heart beating in her throat. Blood roaring in her ears. She stood in front of him, trying not to fidget, forcing her hands to remain at her sides when she had an insane desire to cover up the fact that her nipples were hard and aching for his mouth.