They had been here before, a decade ago. She wondered if he was having the same familiar-yet-not feeling she was. He was the same Sawyer, but more. He had those Mr. Big Virile Policeman muscles now. And he had a pretty good farmer’s tan going, which she appreciated, because it had the effect of making him seem less intimidating in all his studliness.

She wondered if she measured up to his memories. Things were not as…taut as they’d been when she was a teenager.

As if he’d heard her silent insecurities, he wolf-whistled and very obviously ogled her breasts. She did have pretty nice breasts. They were sort of medium size but strangely perky.

You know what else was perky? His penis. Like, bobbing around trying to make its presence known perky.

She sat up straighter. “Hello.”

“Hi. Limbs working again?”

She waved her arms in the air to demonstrate that yes, her limbs were working again—everything was working again. “Do you have condoms?”

“I doubt it.”

“Really?”

“If I do, they’re almost certainly expired.”

Well…wow. So much for Mr. Big Virile Policeman.

He shrugged. “I’ve been busy with other things.”

She was secretly pleased. Her mind spun up to analyze why in the world a man like Sawyer Collins would have expired condoms. She could sense a list forming. She forced it away. Now was not the time for lists. Now was the time to regroup. Well, she had just been admiring his penis, hadn’t she?

She pointed to the other side of the couch, and he moved there without her having to say anything. She used the hair tie on her wrist to pull her hair back. “I think I may be semigood at this now.”

“You were always good at it.”

“Doubtful. Anyway, I bet you anything I’ve improved.” He shook his head. She was pretty sure it was a fond shake and not a no-thanks shake, but just to be sure, she said, “We good to go here?”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

He should get up and grab the quilt and cover them. He didn’t want her to get cold. But that would require getting up off his couch. And that would require getting out from under Evie, who was currently sprawled all over him, looking very pleased with herself.

As she should be. He wasn’t sure if she was “better” at blow jobs than she used to be. He remembered them extremely fondly. But then, he’d been eighteen, and she had been the first person other than himself to touch his dick at all, much less put her mouth on it. He’d wanted to give her a medal every time she did.