“I can walk,” she told him, tearing her mouth from his as he started up the stairs. Angi was tall and solid, not in any way the kind of woman men carried around like some kind of romance novel heroine of old.

“If you think I’m letting you go now,” Gabe said, taking the stairs two at a time like he hefted women into his arms all the time, “you haven’t been paying attention to the last few minutes.”

“I was distracted,” she said, and leaned in to nibble on his ear.

He let out a hoarse grunt and wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

She liked being held by him way too much.

The hallway was dim, lit by a flickering night-light at the end of the hall, but she could make out some kind of floral-pattern wallpaper, and the scent of baby powder and butterscotch hung in the air. It reminded her that this wasn’t his house. It belonged to his grandmother, and Gabe was here temporarily.

That should have made her feel better. She’d told him she wanted something temporary. Somehow, the thought dimmed the light glowing inside her ever so slightly.

Gabe paused just inside the bedroom door. “Are you okay?” he asked, shifting her so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. Angi hated the flicker of doubt she saw there. Hated that he could probably see the same thing reflected in her eyes.

She blinked it away and kissed him again, letting his spicy scent remind her of why she wanted this. But it wasn’t just his smell or the heat of his body enveloping her. It was Gabe and the fact that he could pick up on the slightest nuance of her emotions. And that he would pause—and stop if she needed him to—to ask her about it. To make sure she was still with him.

That made her all in with him.

“I’ll be better when we’re both naked,” she said, letting the need rise to the surface again.

The look of outright adoration that flashed in his gaze made a shiver pass through her.

He drew back the comforter and sheets and lowered her to the bed. What in the world was wrong with Angi that the fact that he made his bed meant something to her? In truth, too many things involving Gabe meant something. As he straightened to unbutton his jeans, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and pushed them down over her hips.

His stormy hazel gaze never left hers as he stripped off the jeans along with the boxers, putting the evidence of how much he wanted her on full display. The way her core seemed to ache in response had her breath catching in her throat.

He took a condom wrapper from his wallet and tossed it onto the nightstand. She automatically lifted her arms as he bent toward her, wanting to draw him closer. Needing his weight on top of her like she was a ribbon in a hurricane-force wind and he was the anchor that could tether her to this moment.