Grady tore his mouth from hers, dropped his hands from her breasts, making a grab for her hand creating the kind of havoc that was hard to forgo. He caught her around the wrist, stilling her maddeningly erotic action.

“Stop,” he said, his voice rough as he panted hard.

Blood throbbed through his temples and pounded through his chest and the large pulse in his abdomen. His head fell back against the couch as he tried to catch his breath, his heated gaze meeting her confused one.

Christ, he wanted to kiss that look away, kiss her until the heat came back.

She didn’t move for a moment or two, just sat, staring at him, her chest rising and falling quickly, her breathing loud. Her gaze dropped to his lap, to where his hand circled her wrist, to where her hand circled his dick, and Grady watched as realization dawned.

He hated that look.

“Shit,” she whispered as she pulled her hand away from his dick like it was a live wire. Given its state, it fucking felt like one right now, too.

She moved then, scrambling off his lap, trying to unwind limbs and get off him as fast as she could, stumbling a little in the process as she yanked her top down and walked away from the couch, shoving her hand through her hair.

Grady shut his eyes, opening them again on a sigh. Absently, he noticed that the movie was still going and that the hero and heroine were standing in the town square in a crowd all watching a giant Christmas wreath being mounted on the edifice of the town hall.

Of course.

Zipping his unimpressed erection back in his pants, Grady pushed to his feet on unsteady legs. He couldn’t believe how quickly things had escalated. How they’d been talking one moment and making out like it was their last night on the planet in the next. How a handful of days ago he’d told Suzanne to stay the hell away and tonight he’d had her boobs in his hands.

Grady couldn’t remember when he last made out with a woman. Probably with Bethany when he was seventeen. They’d spent hours fooling around and, after a year together, had been each other’s firsts. Sexual experiences since her death had been more about the destination than the journey.

Which had been perfectly fine by him and the women involved.

Turning around, he located Suzanne standing in front of the fire, her back to him, her arms wrapped around her body like she was cold. But after what happened on the couch, he doubted that was possible.

She turned suddenly and pinned him with a composed expression, her chin jutting a little in defiance. Like she hadn’t just had her hand wrapped around his dick. But her mouth couldn’t lie—those swollen lips still looked very well kissed. “That can’t happen again,” she announced.