His voice was husky, a velvet brush of sensuality that sent more electrical charges streaking through her bloodstream. She gasped, licked her lips and reached for the band of his low-riding jeans. He wore button-up denim rather than a zipper and again she found she had even more of a difficult time releasing his straining cock. Her breath came in ragged, desperate puffs, her lungs burning for air as she slowly managed to get the buttons undone.

Remy lifted his buttocks so she could wiggle the material down his hips to the strong column of his thighs. Her hands felt clumsy. Burning. Too big. Her fingers didn’t want to work. Her body felt as if it had burst into flames, so hot she could barely stand it. She turned to roll down the window.

“Get my jeans all the way off. Hurry.”

His voice had gone raspy, but the urgency in his tone caught at her. The car turned onto the drive leading to the Inn. She could smell the lake, the swamp, individual grasses and plants.

“I’m burnin’ up,” she admitted. “I can barely breathe.” With wanting him. The moment she could see his heavy erection, long and thick and so very hard for her, the burning between her legs became a firestorm, slick and hot until craving turned to desperate need.

“I know, chere, I am too.” He gritted his teeth. “Just get my jeans down.”

To do that, she had to shift in her seat, lean down, her bare breasts brushing his strong muscular thighs with all those intriguing roped muscles. She nearly sobbed with wanting him. His masculine scent enveloped her, went deep into her lungs so she didn’t know where his sexual need started and hers left off. Heat radiated off his body, and his eyes were dark green, almost glowing with his hunger for her.

To her utter horror, he had become an obsession. Her only consolation was that judging from his heavy erection, the heat pouring off his skin and the dark hunger in his eyes, he was just as obsessed with her. One hand fisted in her hair, as if he was going to push her face toward his jerking cock. She could see his stomach muscles rippling, his hips bucking a little as she shoved his jeans farther down his legs.

She felt the bump as he steered the car onto the grass, blowing past the Inn, around to the back. The Inn was dark and she was glad Saria wasn’t there. She was stark-naked, nearly sobbing and so close to losing every shred of common sense and dignity she’d ever had. She’d do anything to have him, and that was just insanity. She’d have to wake up some time and face herself and her foolish actions. Right at that moment, nothing else mattered but to feel him, all that silky heat, in her mouth.