“As her skin sizzled under the delicious heat, she supposed she should’ve been giving serious thought to the lunacy of what she was doing playing with a vampire, who was, for all his charm, as lethal as a stiletto across the throat. But then again, most of her friends already thought she was half a nut short of a fruitcake. Why disappoint?”

“She was his and he was hers. They had under-the-skin privileges.”

“It was, she had to admit, some kind of wonderful to be kissed so deliciously by the only mand who had dared play with her cat with the intention of winning.”

“A hand in her hair, wrenching back her head. "What's my name?"She scratched trails down his back. He didn't even wince. "My name, kitty. Say my name.""Mr. Mud Stick, Muddie for short," she said, even as she rubbed herself against the hard thrust of his denim-covered erection, the roughness of the fabric an exquisite sensation. She would've liked naked skin even more, but he wasn't budging."Say it, or no cock for you today."Her mouth fell open. "Fuck you.""You'll be doing that shortly.”

“She jumped. "You walk like a cat!""I am a cat, sweetheart." He wanted to tease her again, so he let a low growl rumble up from his chest. "See?"Streaks of vibrant color stained her cheeks once more. But she didn't back down. "Are you planning to move?""No." He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. "You smell good. Can I taste you?" It was a half-serious question. "Just a little?""Mr. Quinn!" She took a step around him and headed off. But he'd already caught the tart bite of arousal in her scent. Satisfied, he followed, on his best behavior now. It wouldn't do to scare Annie away. Not when he planned to keep her. ”

“Make me forget." A whisper, a plea.Not giving her what she wanted wasn't even an option. He switched their positions so she was under him. "Aren't you afraid I'll take advantage?"She wiped away her tears. "Please do.""Ask nice.""Why don't I make you angry instead? That gets me kissed a lot.”

“Smiling, she went for his throat and almost had him, when—using a move that was all sorts of illegal—he flipped her again so her front pressed into the leaf-laden ground, her wrists still locked in his iron grip and pinned above her head. “Cheater.” “So says the woman who tried to kick my balls into my throat,” he pointed out, even as he licked the salt off the skin of her neck in a lazy and highly provocative move.”