The first kiss is staggering. If I were on my feet, I’d fall to the floor. His lips are soft and sure, not bruising or aggressive.

They tease open my mouth, and he takes his time. Truly just sinks in and leisurely kisses and touches and learns.

He presses one leg between mine, just over the most intimate part of me that begs for more, denim against denim, and I feel the flush move through me from my head to my feet.

My hands slide into his hair as he takes the kiss deeper, and we start to move against each other, searching for more.

“Skin,” I gasp as I grapple with his shirt. “I want your clothes off.”

“Excellent idea.” He pushes up onto his knees and tugs his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the floor. In the moonlight, I can see his chiseled muscles. His smooth flesh. I can’t help but reach out to touch him, letting my fingertips dance over his skin.

“Am I dreaming this?” He smiles, and I realize that I spoke the thought aloud.

“If you are, don’t wake us up,” he says as he helps me out of my shirt and bra. The next thing I know, his lips are around my nipple, and my hips are moving, grinding against his leg.

God, I want him. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more. And if the amazing sensations moving through me are any indication, I’ll be getting some long-overdue orgasms very soon.

He easily unfastens my jeans and pushes his hand inside, under my panties. When he finds my center, he groans.

“Christ, you’re slick,” he whispers and bites my chin.

I spread my legs wider in invitation, and he slides a finger inside me.

“Oh, God.” I arch my back, and he licks my nipple as his hand does magical things between my legs. Just as I’m about to come, he pulls his hand away. “No, don’t stop, Cameron.”

“Not yet,” he replies and kisses me again. “I want you to come when I’m inside you.”

“Then get a move on, damn it.”

He laughs and pushes his jeans down his hips, reaching for a condom. But before he can rip the packet open, his phone rings.

We still and stare at each other in the moonlight.

“Don’t answer it.”

“I have to. It’s my job, Maggie.”

I shake my head, but he reaches over and, with his eyes pinned to mine, answers.

“Cox.” His eyes narrow. “Copy that. What’s the ETA? Damn. Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. On my way.”

He hangs up and tosses his phone onto the bed, then looks down at me with an apology written all over his face.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.” He kisses me lightly. “I have to be at the airstrip in twenty minutes.”

You have got to be kidding me!