The only problem with that was they weren’t a couple. They were something that was getting more and more complex and harder to define. Not willing to dwell on that too long, Damien was about to suggest they lie down on their sides and see where that went. Before he could open his mouth, Mandy turned and crawled toward the pillows, peeling down her bikini bottoms.

He was about to protest that he would have liked to have done the peeling down of those, when she went up on all fours.

“Though they did suggest coming from behind as a good one. Would that interest you?” And she stuck her perky little ass in the air toward him.

Holy hell. Damien closed his eyes and counted to five before he could answer. Everything ached with longing. Even his teeth wanted her. His ears were turned on.

She had no idea. Absolutely no fucking idea what she did to him. “Yes, that interests me.”

Yanking his shirt and pants off and tossing them in the hamper along with Mandy’s bikini bottoms, he shoved the cracker mess right off the side of the bed. He’d give the maid an extra large tip. Then he put one hand on Mandy’s pale backside and moved right alongside her.

Thighs touching hers, he stroked her smooth skin, enjoying the curve of her heart-shaped ass, the arch of her spine rising gracefully to her neck. Goose bumps rose under his touch, and she gave a sweet, low sigh.

“I think this will work.”

“Oh, this will definitely work.” Damien leaned over and kissed her shoulder, his fingers trailing between her legs, his erection pressing into her hard and urgent.

And what he thought might work would be them. Him and Mandy. Together. Not just here, but there, too. Back in New York.

The thought startled him so much, kicked him in the gut and head and everything in between, that he forgot where he was going with his hand and let his finger pause right where the swell of her bottom met her inner thighs.

Resting on her forearms, Mandy was wet with anticipation, swollen with longing, tilted back as far as she could without snapping her spine in two, and Damien had stopped. His finger hovered over her crotch like a hummingbird with a flower. He was supposed to be dipping into her bloody nectar, and he wasn’t doing a damn thing.

“Damien?” She felt ridiculous with her bum in the air, arms forward, as if she was paying homage to the mattress.

This could get very embarrassing in a moment or two.

“Mandy,” he whispered behind her, voice hoarse and raw.

Then when she would have been satisfied with just his finger, he came in with the big guns. Or gun. He slid inside her with one quick thrust that tore the breath right out of her.