He glided his big, knowing hands up her legs, used his thumbs to spread her open to suit him, and then bent in and put his mouth on her.

Her head thunked back against the wood.

“How am I doing?” he murmured.

What? How was he doing? Couldn’t he tell?

“Red?”

And then she remembered. He wanted her to stay with him, no escaping, no vanishing in the moment, and suddenly she felt very, very naked. “Uh…”

“Good?”

“Yes,” she managed. “Good—”

He laughed softly and did something with his tongue…and added a finger…oh god…and then he hummed a little “mmm-mmm, nice” or something equally dizzying, and then she was a panting, writhing wreck, trembling on the very edge. The bastard held her there, pulling back just enough to make her sob in frustration. She tightened the grip she had on his hair and looked down at him, vulnerable not because of her position but because she was letting him look deep into her eyes.

You don’t see me, he’d said. But she did. God, she did. Didn’t he know that was the problem? That every time they did this, he dug himself further into her heart? “Joe,” she whispered, her throat tight, her eyes burning. “Don’t you even think about stopping.”

He let out a slow smile, his eyes hot and hungry, and bent back to his task, and this time let her take the plunge. When her knees collapsed, she fell right into his arms on the floor. Engine still revved, she tumbled him over to his back and tore at his clothing just for the joy of having his hot, sleek, hard flesh beneath her fingers, and then her mouth. She kissed his shoulder, a pec, making her way past his rib cage, his quivering belly, swirling a little lower until he hissed out a breath. And when she got to the prize and took him into her mouth, he let out a guttural, rasping moan. His hands came up and fisted in her hair. “Red—”

She shut him up with a single swirl of her tongue and was well on her way to driving him as insane as he’d driven her when suddenly she found herself flat on her back, his big hard body towering over hers, his eyes glittering as he reached out and picked something up off the floor.

The condom.

He tore the packet open with his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as he covered himself, as he nudged her thighs open and made himself at home between them and cupped her face in his hands.

“I love you,” he said, and began to move. He took them both right out of themselves and back again, wild and free, simple and beautiful.

And terrifying. So damned terrifying.

Chapter 18

Chapter 18