She slid her fingers into his hair, and God, he loved that. Loved the feel of her hands on him, the way she tilted her head to gain better access to his mouth, loved the way her tongue danced slow and sinuous over his.

A crash from the kitchen had them both jumping in surprise. Joe whipped around in time to see the back door blowing in the wind after slamming open against the wall. “I must not have kicked it shut hard enough,” he said, and moved toward it.

Summer flattened herself back against the archway between the hallway and the living room, her heart ramming against her ribs. Just the door. Her fear was definitely irrational, even to her own murky brain, but for the moment she couldn’t think, couldn’t put it all together.

Joe came back, gazing at her face as if he might gobble her up if given the chance, and her nipples went hard and her thighs trembled. She launched herself at him, with one goal in mind.

Sexual oblivion, the way only he could offer it.

His hand stroked down her back and then up again as she burrowed against his big, warm, wonderful body. She slid her arms around his waist, sighing at the solidness of him, how it felt to be pressed tight, held tight. She arched a little closer and felt his mouth on her neck, just beneath her ear.

He unclipped his pager and gun, set them on the end table, and backed her against the archway, trapping her, kissing her neck again, making her moan. At the sound, he dragged his mouth down a little, burrowing beneath the terry cloth.

It wasn’t enough, it still wasn’t enough. A voice deep inside told her that this, with him, might never be enough but she shoved that aside, and reached down to untie the belt on her robe.

“You’re going to kill me,” he said huskily, eyes locked on hers.

“Then you’ll die a happy man tonight.”

He choked out a laugh at that. His gaze ran down her body. Her thighs trembled, and between them, she went damp as she shrugged and let the robe fall. “Touch me, Joe.”

His jaw was tight and bunching with tension as he lifted his hands and cupped the weight of her breasts, letting his thumbs rasp over the tips like the material of her robe had, only better. They hardened further.

With a rough sound, he once again backed her to the archway. The plaster was cool against her back and buttocks, while Joe was hot against her breasts and belly and thighs. There was something erotic about being naked while he was fully dressed. It made her feel weak and quivery, and yet so powerful at the same time, but then he sank to his knees, nudged her thighs apart and kissed her between them, and thinking became optional.