“The amount of money deposited into the bank doesn’t always match what was put in the register.” She tugged his shorts down. With a little hum low in her throat, she wrapped her fingers around him.

“Red.” He groaned, arching his hips helplessly. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”

“So am I.” She stroked long and slow, the way she’d learned he liked it, then reached into the drawer of his nightstand for a condom.

“How much money is missing?” he asked.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Who—” He broke off as she tore the packet open with her teeth and protected them both, taking her time about it too, dawdling with her fingers. “Jesus. Who had access to the account?”

“Everyone.” She surged up and sank down on him, drawing him into her body to the hilt.

He swore, gripping her hips, gritting his teeth not to lose it at the feel of her, hot and wet, surrounding him. “Don’t move,” he begged, holding her still. “God, don’t move.”

“I can’t help it.” She wriggled, then ran her hands up his arms until their fingers were entwined on either side of his head. Leaning down, she kissed him softly, deeply, and his heart tumbled. “You feel so good, Joe. So damned good.”

He pulled his hands free and rolled them, tucking her beneath him, flexing his hips, pressing her into the mattress, thrusting in deep. “And how do you feel?”

Arching into him, she wrapped her legs around his hips. “When I’m with you? Like I could walk on air.”

As far as declarations of feelings went, it was a doozy. And it took him right over the edge. He made sure he took her with him.

An hour later he lay sprawled on his back, Summer snuggled up to his side, the cool night air drifting over their nude, still sweaty bodies.

Ashes had joined them and lay at their feet.

Summer was lazily trailing a finger over Joe’s chest, occasionally tweaking his chest hair. He loved the way she touched him. He loved the way she panted his name when he was buried deep within her. He loved the way her smile lit up his life. And he loved how he felt when he was with her.

She shifted a little closer, cruising her mouth up his throat. Life didn’t get better than this, he thought.

“Your foot is doing good,” she murmured. “Isn’t it?”

Sure, unless he stood on it for more than sixty seconds. “If you’re worried, you can pamper me anytime. All the time.” He lifted his head and propped it up with a hand. “Move in with me.”

Her fingers went still on him. It was dark but he sensed the rest of her going just as still. “Or is that too involved with the future, which you don’t do.”