Damn him. She did. How did that happen? Maybe because he’d saved her from the forest, taken care of her, and been wonderful with his dog, his niece, and the people at work. She’d come to know him better than she realized. He didn’t go for the easy slick choices, didn’t depend on his charm, but…did the work. He was sincere…and careful with people.

“Maybe,” she said, grudgingly. “Yes, all right. I do trust you.”

He rewarded her for her honesty with a kiss. Such a great kiss. Firm, seductive lips turning so hungry and demanding that her senses spun.

She curled her uninjured arm around his shoulder and felt his back muscles flex as he braced himself on one hand and covered her breast with the other. His palm was still slick with the massage oil…and as he teased her nipple, her skin began to tingle and warm.

“What?” She wiggled. “What’s in that stuff?”

“Just something for fun.” He rubbed his nose against hers and kissed her again. “It’s good for sore muscles—and for other areas, as well. Like lady-bits.”

He ran his fingers around her other nipple, tugging it to a point. When he bent and blew air across the jutting peaks, the sensation of heat and the cool air made her toes curl. He cupped a breast in each hand, then squeezed, tightening the skin, so when he circled a nipple with his tongue and suckled, pleasure shocked through her.

“Bull…”

Never slowing, he moved back and forth between her breasts, sucking, teasing, tugging.

Madonna, she might die of pleasure. Moaning, she ran her fingers down his back, over rippling muscles beneath velvet-smooth skin, down the deep furrow of his spine, to his tight buttocks. Mmm. Twisting slightly, she slid a hand between them and under the waistband of his jeans. He was so hard, so thick that there wasn’t any room in there at all. “That must be very uncomfortable.”

He broke out laughing. “Woman, you have no idea.” He sat up and tucked his fingers under the waistband of her briefs and paused to give her a chance to object.

Object? Not hardly. Her whole body wanted those skilled hands on her pussy. She lifted her hips. His smile flashed, and then her briefs were off and tossed onto the coffee table.

He sat back, studying her body with an open appreciation that sent a flush over her skin. “You look delicious in that position.” He ran a finger from her breast, down her stomach, and…down her right thigh.

She glared. Stronzo. Whatever happened to a man going straight for the target? For a change, it was what she really wanted and…he was going to play?

She grabbed his big-boned wrist—her fingers couldn’t even close around it—and moved his hand to her pussy. “There.”

Oh, bad Frankie. Some men felt threatened by—

“There, hmm?” His mouth quirked.