The man had fallen to his knees in front of me with a look of true astonishment, had used those strong shoulders to hold me up as he licked me like he’d never, ever get enough.

My ear vibrated, slightly, at the sound of the contented rumble coming from his chest. Then he turned onto his side, toppling me slightly. His dark eyes blinked open, focusing on me for a second of confusion. And then recognition.

And then that same expression of astonishment rose on his face, sending a burst of affectionate pleasure through me.

“You’re still here,” he said.

I brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. “I had to see for myself how adorable you are first thing in the morning.”

One side of his mouth lifted in a sleepy grin. “What’s the verdict?”

I pulled back an inch to peruse him—mussed curls, gravelly voice, stubble on that strong jaw of his. The bed sheet twisted around his waist, displaying the breadth of his shoulders; the rugged planes of his chest; those strong, confident hands currently sliding up my thigh.

“If there was a Sports Illustrated magazine dedicated solely to being cute, you’d grace every cover, Mr. Machine.”

His reply was to pin me with his dark gaze and thread his fingers through the mess of my hair, moving it from my face until he was cupping my cheeks. Holding me still as he set his mouth to mine for a firm, commanding kiss that turned me liquid in seconds. His lips moved against mine leisurely, tasting me, with seemingly no destination in mind. I grabbed his wrists, needing to anchor myself as I let him control every breathless second.

It brought back every single minute of last night, the way he’d handled my body with a confidence that was never cocky but reverent. His teeth on the back of my neck and his deep, deliberate strokes.

The way he’d growled You’re the fantasy, Tabitha like I meant so much more to him than just a hot fling. Eric’s words from the other day barreled through my hazy, lust-drunk thoughts. It was different between the two of us. I recognized that from the very beginning.

Those frantic SOS messages cranked up louder, even as I arched into Dean’s touch like I’d never, ever get enough.

When he finally released me from the kiss, I was dazed while he appeared composed.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” I said.

His grin was as mischievous as I’d ever seen on him. “I’ve got a thing for trench coats. And gorgeous troublemakers.”