“You’ve read your press, right? You know they call you a hard-ass.” She lifted her hand and touched his face. “But they’re wrong.” She pressed her face to his throat and inhaled him...”

“Mark.” She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers, her entire world anchored on his finger. When it slid inside her, she thunked her head back against the door and panted. Then his thumb brushed her in a slow circle.She cried out against his lips, arching into him, yanking his hair. She couldn’t help it. She was going up in flames. He merely pressed her hard to the door, locking her in place. Continuing the torture, he added another finger. She came hard and fast, the power of it sweeping over her like a tidal wave.”

“Let's start with where you are,' he said. 'You're here.' Taking her hand, he pressed it to his chest above his heart.”

“He didn't see anything."She rolled to her feet. "I was in your bed! We could have scarred him for life!""Grace, we weren't doing anything. Well, I wasn't. You were snoring.""I don't--" She smoothed her dress down and searched out her sandals, shoving her feet into them. She glanced at herself in the mirror over his dresser and groaned. Hair, wild. Lips, swollen. Face, flushed. Nipples, hard."Dammit!" She clapped her hands over them. "It's like they're broken!”

“With a smug smirk, he kissed her again, then slid into her. Pleasure flooded her, so intense it arched her back and had her crying out, clutching at him. The teasing and fun vanished in a blink, replaced by something so intense she could hardly breathe. Mark’s eyes were dark and sultry, and she reared up to press her mouth to his. He took control of the kiss, making her melt into him all the more as he buried himself in her over and over, deeper, harder, faster, the entire time holding her gaze with his, letting her see everything she did to him.”

“Give me,” she said.“Don’t you mean please give me?”“You want me to beg?”That smile spread slightly. “Nah. I just heard you beg plenty.”“I did not beg.” But she had. She so had. Still grinning, still naked, he pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to her shoulder. “My panties, Mark.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Let me drop the belt-"“No.” She held on when he would have pulled away. “Don’t. I like it.” Again, he lifted her face, and he smiled. “The tool belt turns you on.” “No.” She closed her eyes and thunked her forehead to his chest. “Little bit.”