I looked at him as I slowly unbuttoned my muddy jeans. It took me a few seconds to slide the stiff, heavy, wet fabric down my legs and over my feet. Not the most graceful striptease, but the golden sparks in Donovan’s eyes told me he appreciated the view. By the time I’d tossed my wet jeans into the front seat, the rain had turned my pink panties—also decorated with limes—as transparent as my bra.

Donovan’s gaze was even hotter now, and those same three emotions kept flashing in his eyes, one after another, faster and faster, as though his brain were overloaded by the feelings. Guilt. Heat. Desire. Guilt. Heat. Desire.

We stood there, a few feet apart, frozen in the moment, as the cool rain cascaded down on us…

Donovan let out a low growl, moved forward, and jerked me toward him. His lips crushed against mine, even as his tongue drove inside my mouth. Mmm. Just what I wanted. I tangled my fingers in his damp, black hair and pulled him closer.

In a moment, the kiss morphed into one of raging heat and raw need. Our lips, our tongues, lashed against each other in punishment and pleasure. We spun around and around in a tight circle in the rain. Mud covered my feet and rocks dug into my heels, but I didn’t care. Heat, passion, lust, desire. It all filled me until there was nothing else—and nothing I wouldn’t do to slake my need. The mud, the cold, the rain. Everything else vanished, overcome by the fire roaring through my body. A fire I wanted to embrace again and again and again.

Donovan’s hand worked at the clasp of my bra. When it popped open, he stepped back long enough to yank the straps off my shoulders and drop the whole thing in the mud. He moved me back, and something cold and metal bumped against my hip. The hood of the sedan.

That would do for now. I leaned back against the metal and pulled the detective down to me. The car hood felt like ice against my back, but I didn’t care because I was burning on the inside. Burning for Donovan.

Our tongues crashed together again. Donovan’s hands closed over my bare breasts. He squeezed the two mounds—hard—then dug his thumbs into my nipples.

I moaned into his mouth. Pressure built between my thighs. My panties were soaked—and it had nothing to do with the rain.