But she wasn’t.

So, instead, he gently kissed that same spot again, slipping a hand under her shirt, running his palm up her stomach to just below her breasts. With another whimper of wanting, she arched into his hand—a silent demand if he’d ever heard one. So, he obeyed and cupped her breast, his thumb gliding over the already hardened peak.

She looked at him with those see-all gray eyes, and he couldn’t think beyond the fact that he needed to kiss her, which he did, deeply. She had her hands beneath his shirt now too, one over his heart, which was threatening to pound right out of his chest. Could she feel how out of control he was?

But then she got into his jeans and wrapped her fingers around him, and if he’d thought he was in trouble before… “Daisy.” His voice was practically a growl. “Babe. I don’t think—”

She stroked.

He groaned and dropped his forehead to hers. “You sure?”

She stroked him again.

Okay, she was sure.

She was trying to shove his jeans down and get his shirt off all at the same time when he again caught her hands and waited until her gaze met his.

“I’m sure!” She sounded slightly crazy and maybe a little exasperated, and he smiled.

“Now,” she demanded, arching into him. “Here.”

“Now,” he agreed and rose to his feet. “But not here.”

He took her below deck. They landed on his bed in a tangle of sheets. The only light came from the moonlight slanting in through the high, narrow windows, but it was enough to see.

She looked as beautiful in his bed as he remembered. He wanted to go slow and easy, but his good intentions vanished once he stripped and crawled up the bed to assist her in doing the same. One kiss plus the glide of her arms and legs around him as if she were trying to claim him as her own, and he was lost. Lost in her. Lost in them.

Just like always.

He’d always thought if he ever got lucky enough to be with her again, that it might be awkward, like a first time. But it didn’t feel awkward or like a first time. It felt more like finding a missing piece.

Like coming home.

He slipped a hand between her thighs. Good thing they were already lying down, or he’d have probably dropped to his knees. In his dreams, he’d had to work hard to make her want him again.

But she was hot and slick and ready.

Her eyes were big but bold on his. “I want you,” she whispered. “I’ve…always wanted you.”

It wasn’t a declaration of love, so why did it feel like one? Because his own feelings were far too close to the surface, dangerously close in fact. “I’ve always wanted you too, Daisy.”

They reached for each other at the same time, the kiss intense and lingering. “Now,” she murmured. “Please, Diego.”