BECCA WASN’T SURE WHAT MADE her ask—or she was; she wanted Nate. But she didn’t know what made that night different. She just knew that after talking and laughing and sharing dessert, it felt wrong to leave him. And then she’d kissed him in the elevator, and he’d held her, somehow managing to blend heat and tenderness in an impossible to resist cocktail. She wanted him and she didn’t want to wait. The case could take second place for one night. She could quit work at seven this one time and not risk burning down the village.

Nate’s hand never left her back as they walked down the hall to the elevator. He kept it in place, warm and strong through the fabric of her jacket as they rode to the lobby. He didn’t kiss her when the doors closed, as if he were trying to save them from themselves. At least that’s what it felt like to her. She knew without a doubt that if she kissed him again—now that they both knew where this was headed—she’d never be able to pull back. She wanted him so much. She couldn’t imagine ever getting her fill.

When they got outside, she shivered, a combination of the chill in the air and anticipation. Nate slid his hand around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned into the warmth from his body, breathing in the scent of his cologne. He’d parked in the lot next to the building. In moments, they were in the car and on their way across town to his apartment. His hands stayed on the steering wheel and hers stayed on her lap. The uncertainty of what they were about to do hit her, not because she didn’t want it—or him. She ached with wanting him. But she also knew being with Nate couldn’t be a casual thing. It meant something.

“Are you sure about this, Becca?” His words echoed her thoughts, his voice reassuring in the dark interior of the car as they drove.

“Yes,” she said, feeling the truth of her word.

Nate reached across the center console to take her hand in his. Bringing their joined hands to his lips, he brushed a kiss over her knuckles. Under any other circumstance, the gesture would’ve been completely chaste, but there was nothing innocent about his lips against her skin. That simplest of touches kicked up her pulse and made the breath catch in her throat, waking up parts of her body that had been dormant.

“I’ve wanted you since I held you in my arms at your sister’s wedding, and I had to figure out how to avoid groping you in front of your family.”

She smiled in the darkness at his words, loving the honesty of talking about what they were about to do instead of just getting swept away. She didn’t doubt that part would come later but talking created its own kind of intimacy and added to the anticipation.

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it was probably sooner.” Another brush of his lips, a barely there caress, and her pulse hitched.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” she said, reaching for the words as her body shifted focus to Nate and the way he made her feel.

“I thought it was you who couldn’t stand me.”

“I didn’t know you.” She smiled, remembering her irritation at having to find a way to get him released from custody the night they met. “I’m surprised you bothered to talk to me again after the way I treated you that night.”

“I wasn’t exactly at my best.”

“I’m glad we didn’t stay there.” She paused for moment, holding Nate’s warm, strong hand in the darkness. “When did it change?”

“As soon as I realized the same passion you had for work and for your family would probably translate to other areas of your life.” He turned her hand over and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist.

The warmth of his touch on her delicate skin should have been distracting. Instead, it tightened her focus to the connection between them and the impact of his words.

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NATE OPENED THE door to his apartment, more grateful than he could say that he hadn’t left his crap lying everywhere. He had no idea when he started the day that he’d be bringing Becca home with him at the end of it. It felt right, bringing her into his space. He wanted her to see him—to know him. He wanted to share all of that with her, but first he wanted both of them to lose themselves in each other.

After she asked him to take her home, he’d been so careful with how he touched her. He had to keep his hands on her. With the promise of making love with her stretched out in front of him, he couldn’t stand the separation, but he didn’t trust himself with more than a simple touch. Not until it was just them and they didn’t have to hold back anymore.

She walked inside, and he closed the door behind them, watching her as she took in his place. Now that they were alone, he felt nervous in a way he hadn’t since he was a teenager. This was important to him—as important as his first time, although he wasn’t willing to say why yet. She was important to him.

“It’s not much, but it’s comfortable for me,” he said, hating that it sounded like he was suddenly trying to justify things.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. And then she turned and stepped into his arms, fitting her body to his.

Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but Becca in his home, in his arms.

In his life.

For a moment, he cradled her against him, one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand cupping the back of her head, and they breathed together. She tipped her head up to him, her gaze finding his, and it was the easiest thing in the world to bend his head to kiss her. To press his lips to hers and taste her sweetness.

Pulling her closer, he urged her up onto her toes, stretching her body against his. He tightened his grip on her hair, not pulling, simply anchoring her in place because he needed her. She gasped, a sexy little sound that sent heat to his already thickening cock, and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her parted lips. Tasting and teasing before nipping gently at her bottom lip.

Her hands slid from the back of his neck to his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to get close enough. There was something so right about having Becca in his arms. It shifted the scale for everything he’d ever done before, aligning things into before Becca and after.

Slowly, deliberately, because now that he had her there, he couldn’t bear to rush, he pushed her jacket off her shoulders, tossing it on the chair before it could fall to the ground. Her skin was warm beneath the silk of her blouse, and he slid his hands up over her arms and down her back, losing himself for a few moments in the slide of silk and woman. Curves and heat. All her softness.

She reached for the buttons of his shirt, and he gazed down at her, watching as her fingers slipped one after another of the buttons open, baring his chest to her touch. Still cradled in his arms, she pressed her palm to his chest, her touch made visually more potent by her pale skin in contrast to his. She ran her hand up his chest, and the muscles of his stomach tightened. Over his pecs and up his throat to cup his jaw, her gaze searching his until she saw what she was looking for and pulled him down for another kiss.

He could lose himself in the feel and taste of her and not care as long as she had her hands on him. It was intoxicating and dangerous and so much more than he’d imagined. She pressed her palms to his bare skin, her hands moving up and over his shoulders, taking his shirt with them. He shrugged it the rest of the way off and watched her suck in a breath. Knowing the sight of his bare chest turned Becca on did something powerful to him.

“I want more of you,” he said, his voice rough with need. Gripping her chin with his fingers, he searched her gaze before kissing her again.

The silk of her blouse and the warm curves underneath pressed against his skin like a caress. Kissing this woman was so much and still not enough. He wanted time to figure it out. Time to learn her and what she liked.

“I want that too.” She sounded breathless.

He fucking loved that his touch—his kiss—did that to her.

Catching her hand with his, he led her down the hall to his bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind them before gathering her in his arms, her back pressed against his chest. He buried his face in the tender skin behind her ear and breathed in her scent. Roses and vanilla and something deeper. Richer. Specific to Becca. She tipped her head, offering him her neck, and he kissed and nibbled his way down her throat. He felt her slight trembling and held her tighter, acting as an anchor so she could let go.

His teeth scraped over the spot where her neck met her shoulders, and she arched her back, rocking her ass against his aching cock. This woman. This woman made him want things. Deliciously filthy things. Tender things. In ways he’d never wanted them before.

Keeping his lips pressed to her neck, he ran his hands up her rib cage, pausing for a moment just below her breasts. She arched again, ass back and tits forward, her head tipped back against his chest. He slid his hands higher, feeling the warmth of her body through the silk, the swell of her breasts filling his palms. The tight peaks of her nipples clear through the layers of fabric. He pinched gently with his fingertips, and she whimpered, pressing herself into his hands.

He stopped touching her, teasing her, just long enough to unbutton her blouse, eliminating one barrier between his hands and her flesh. Kissing his way along her shoulder, he pushed the silk away.

“Nate, please.” She arched against him and it was his turn to suck in a breath.

Everything about her felt so good. Her ass rocking against his cock, her breasts filling his palms, the way she responded to his touch. Like she was an instrument and his to play.

“Please what, beautiful?” he asked, needing to hear her say the words.

“Please touch me.”

“Gladly.” He slid her blouse the rest of the way off, setting it on the chair.

He kissed the spot beside the strap of her gray lace bra before sliding it over her shoulder and out of the way. He repeated the process with the other side, before turning her in his arms. Pushing the lace cups down, he bared her gorgeous breasts—full, with dark-pink nipples pulled tight.

“You are so beautiful, Becca.” His voice sounded reverent, caught somewhere between a prayer and a plea. And then he bent his head so he could draw one of the tight peaks into his mouth.

She curled around him, her hands moving restlessly from his shoulders to the back of his head. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he held her in place while he traced her nipple with his tongue, alternating between licking and flicking the tip and suckling her tender skin.

“God, Nate. More, please.” The words fell from her lips in a steady stream as he worked his way back and forth between her breasts.

He sucked her nipples to tight peaks before trailing the tip of his tongue around her areola. He loved the way her skin pebbled, the smooth slope of her breast shifting to tight flesh straining toward him. He could spend days worshiping her breasts.

He unclasped her bra, freeing her completely from the lace, and then took a step back while she unzipped her skirt. As he watched, she stepped out of the demure gray fabric until she stood in front of him in nothing but a pair of sheer lace panties and heels. She was so beautiful. So sure of herself but still somehow vulnerable. She took his breath away.

“Lay down, Becca.” He kissed her, nudging her until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. “I want to taste you.”

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BECCA HURRIED TO comply. The chance to have Nate’s hands on her—Nate’s mouth—wasn’t something she’d ever pass up on again. She loved the way he touched her with the perfect mix of tenderness and control. She scooted over the duvet until her back hit the pillows stacked against the headboard.

Nate watched her, looking every bit the predator, wearing nothing but his black dress slacks sitting low on his hips. The muscles were clearly etched across his abdomen, and the lines of his V carved either side before disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. She wanted to trace the lines with her tongue, not stopping until she took him in her mouth. She could clearly see the outline of his erection under the fabric, and it made her lick her lips, which made his dark eyes widen and his nostrils flare. All of which made her want to do it all over again.

Kneeling on the bed, he took one of her high heel-clad feet in his hand, stroking his palm over her calf before tugging the shoe free. He ran his thumb up her arch and her toes curled in response.

“God, that feels so good,” she said as he’d repeated the movement with her other foot.

“We’re just getting started.”

The promise of his words made her breath hitch and then he gripped her ankles with his strong hands, pulling her toward him, and she exhaled in a rush. She loved the contrast of his dark hands on her pale skin. Loved the way he pinned her with his gaze, as if her pleasure were the most important thing in his world.

He pressed his lips against the hollow of her ankle, teasing and tasting his way up her leg with gentle nips and kisses until he reached the juncture of her thigh. Her body tensed in anticipation, and she stroked her fingers over the back of his head. There wasn’t anything she wanted more in that moment than Nate’s mouth on her. Nate taking her higher and holding her there until she flew.

He settled himself, his bare shoulders wedged between her legs, his face close enough she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lace-covered sex. Gazing up her body at her, he scraped his teeth over her mound with just enough pressure to wake up every nerve ending she possessed. Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers digging into his muscles as he licked and nipped her through the lace.

It was so much, the feelings so intense, and she still wasn’t naked for him.

Hooking his fingers under the lace, he tugged her panties to the side, baring her sex to him, and then he licked into her and her world fractured under his mouth. He drove her on, teasing her with his tongue, kissing her like he couldn’t get enough.

She couldn’t get her bearings, couldn’t find anything to hold on to against the onslaught of his mouth, giving her so much pleasure, breathing seemed just out of her grasp. Alternating between gripping his shoulder and tangling her fingers in his hair, she rode wave after wave of pleasure until they crested and broke in rhythmic pulses as the climax crashed over her.

“That’s it, beautiful.” Nate murmured the words with his lips pressed to her inner thigh. “Give me everything.”

He traced a fingertip through her swollen folds, and she arched into his touch.

“I want you inside me. Please, Nate.”

His gaze went molten, hot, burning her from the inside. Rocking back onto his knees, he climbed off the bed long enough to strip out of his pants while she tugged off her damp lace panties. Nate shed his boxer briefs, freeing his long, thick cock. Becca licked her lips, and felt his gaze locked on her. Giving her fingers a quick squeeze, he reached into the nightstand drawer for a condom. He tore the foil packet and rolled the condom down his length and then he was back between her legs, poised over her. His cock notched at the entrance of her sex.

Holding onto his arms, she raised herself up so she could meet his gaze. Nate maintained eye contact as he pushed inside her in a move that stole her breath and locked them in place, two pieces wedded together. And then he started to move, and her world shifted, realigning itself to the feeling of Nate over her. Nate inside her.

The rightness of it caught her off guard. Staring into his dark eyes as he moved inside her was too intense and she had to look away or risk becoming one of those women who cried during sex. She’d never understood that before. With Nate filling her, driving her up again with his body, she finally did.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, he leaned back, taking her with him until she was cradled against his chest, straddling him. The angle was too deep, too intense, too much, and exactly what she hadn’t known she needed.

“Please. God. Nate.” Her voice broke on the words and he held her tighter, anchoring her to him so she could let go.

“That’s it, Becca.” He reached between them, his fingers playing over her clit in steady strokes that made her body tighten in anticipation.

She needed. God. She needed.

“Come for me.”

His words cracked something open and the climax took her, back bowed, body arching in release.

“You are so beautiful. So much,” he said, picking up the pace, chasing his own orgasm.

His fingertips gripped her tight, hard enough to leave marks. She’d wear them happily to feel this man lose himself in her body. Sliding his hand up to cup her head, he thrust up into her, holding her as the climax took him and left both of them breathless.