I move my hips down lower, taking all of him inside me. “You were right,” I whisper. “It fits.” Barely.

  “Fuck yeah, it fits. Fits you perfectly. You were made for me.”

  His words send a secret thrill through my heart, like an electric current. I had no idea it was possible to adore someone and want to screw his brains out at the exact same time. Love and sex have never been intertwined for me before this moment. If I weren’t on the precipice of having a seriously amazing orgasm, I’d probably be freaking out about that right now. But there’s no time for that nonsense because I’m about to blow.

  I’m going up and down, riding him like I’m in a rodeo, and he’s meeting me thrust for thrust. He starts yelling out of control, and it makes me feel like a warrior badass, totally slaying his ass.

  And then something hits me from inside like a locomotive. It comes from somewhere deep in my center, something he pulls out of me that completely blindsides my conscious thinking mind.

  I start yelling because the feeling won’t be contained with silence and good manners. He’s hanging onto my hips and ramming himself up into me as I bounce down and hang onto his forearms. Then he’s yelling along with me and I’m suddenly flipped over onto my back without warning. My legs flop around behind his back as I go temporarily blind and just ride him from underneath. I sink my teeth in his shoulder and my nails in his back as the darkness rushes over me and I explode from the inside out.

  He goes stiff and jerks several times, yelling near my ear. I just hang on for dear life. I can’t feel my legs anymore and the sweat is pouring off us and pooling in the hollow of my stomach.

  And then his heavy body collapses on mine with a loud slap! I can feel the thrumming of his heart against mine and the pulsing artery going down the center of his stomach where we are pressed together. The sound of my own pulse fills my ears, and the hotel room that used to be filled with our shouts and growls is now dead silent but for my blood pounding away.

  “Fuck me,” he says in a near whisper, sounding exhausted. “Gold medal, babe. Gold medal.”

  I grin lazily because it’s all I can manage, even though I’m deliriously happy inside. “Did I just compete in the sex Olympics without knowing it?”

  “No. There’s no competition.” He leans up enough to kiss me square on the mouth before pulling out and flopping over onto his back next to me. “I need water. I need air,” he says.

  I turn over on my side and put my hand under my head, propping it up under my elbow. I suddenly have tons of happy energy surging through me. “What’s the matter? Too much for ya?”

  He shifts his head the slightest bit to look at me and lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t make me come over there,” he warns.

  A shiver runs from my hoo-hah up to my heart. “Why not?”

  He leans over and slides a thick finger into my swollen wet folds. “Because,” he says, putting his lips up to mine, “I’ll have to fuck you into submission.”

  I am not ashamed to say that I rode that finger all the way back to the point where I started screaming last time.

  I don’t know how many more minutes pass before I finally fall back onto my side of the bed, but I am considerably less sassy now than I was before. He’s a little scary with how easily he sends me over the edge. Is it possible to have a heart attack from orgasms? Maybe I should take an aspirin or something.

  He’s looming over me. “You like that?” His grin tells me he already knows the answer.

  “Don’t get cocky,” I say, lifting one eyebrow. It’s a pretty weak lift, but it’s enough. He knows I’m not playing.

  “Never. You’re too dangerous to get cocky with.” He kisses me on the nose.

  For some reason, that one simple move makes me go all gooey inside. Now I just want to marry his stupid ass and have his stupid babies too while I’m at it. I am really way too easy. I should probably leave, but instead, I wrap my leg around him.

  “What?” he asks, watching my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I say, reaching up to trace a line from his temple to his chin. “I just like you, I guess.”

  “You do?” He smiles, like I just gave him a present or something.

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “I like you too, you know.”

  My heart burns with happiness. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. That’s so.” He leans over so he’s lying on top of me, but he keeps his weight up on his forearms.

  “How much do you like me?” I ask, feeling silly but still wanting to know the answer. I feel like I’m in second grade again. Check yes or no, Mick.

  “A lot.” He nuzzles my shoulder.

  “A lot?”

  “Yeah. A lot, lot.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me.

  “I can’t breathe all that well,” he says, his voice muffled in my hair.

  “That’s okay,” I say, sighing with happiness. “You don’t need to breathe right now. You just need to lie here and kiss me some more.”

  “That’s going to be difficult if I suffocate,” he says. His hands move to tickle my ribs and I let him go immediately.

  “Ohhhh, ho hoooo, is someone ticklish?” he asks, sounding way too excited about the prospect. He’s on his side now, moving his fingers from one of my ribs to the other and then up into my armpit with a feather-light touch.

  I try to slap him away. “No. Stop. I’m not. I’m not.”

  He grabs one of my hands and puts it above my head. “Keep this one here,” he says, his voice going serious.

  I stare at him as he grabs my second hand. “And keep this one over here.”

  I’m lying with my arms above me, pretend handcuffs holding me fast. I start breathing heavier with anticipation, anxious to see what’s going to be next. My lady parts are tingling.

  “You have to keep your hands there until I give you permission to let them go.”

  I squirm. I can’t help it. I even giggle a little. “What are you going to do?” I ask as my blood pressure spikes up. The anticipation is killing me. My voice is almost all breath. The expression on his face is pure devilry. I want to eat him alive, he’s so sexy.

  He trails his finger around both of my nipples, first one and then the other. They stand at attention and beg to be sucked, but he just keeps moving his finger around. It goes up to my mouth where I suck it for a second before it trails downward. As he goes past my belly button and moves it lower into my folds again, he leans over and begins to lick my left nipple.

  I gasp with pleasure. He’s only touching me in two spots with barely any pressure, but I’m going insane. I moan. “Mick, please...”

  “Call me by my real name,” he says, whispering darkly before nipping me.

  I squeak with surprise and my face burns with passion and a feeling of real danger. This is insane, the way he’s making me react. I don’t even know who I am right now.

  “Mikhail,” I whisper. I can’t get the word out louder than that. God, why is his name so sexy? That’s so stupid! It’s just a name!

  “What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

  I can’t say it. I feel too vulnerable. He’s got his hands on me and I’m held captive with invisible strings. I move against his touch as his finger goes deeper inside me.

  “Say it,” he taunts, right next to my ear. His tongue flicks my earlobe before he goes over to my other breast. I can feel his chest on me a little and I strain to get closer to him.

  “What do you want?” he asks again. “Just say it and it’ll happen.”

  “I want … you. Mikhail, I want you...”

  “You want me to…?”

  He’s driving me insane. I know he knows what I want, but I also know that he won’t give it to me until he hears it. He is in complete control, and I should rebel against it and hate it but I don’t. I love it too much to play that game. I am totally digging this whole master and servant thing.

  I grit my teeth, take a big breath, and then just go
for it.

  “I want you to put that big goddamn dick inside me again and fuck me senseless.” A big whoosh of air leaves my lungs along with the stress of saying those words out loud. “Jesus. Did you have to make me say it?”

  He chuckles low in his throat as he climbs on top of me. “Your wish is my command,” he says, right before he slides into me.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  I’M NOT SURE IF WE slept. Maybe I caught a few winks here and there, cuddled up in Mick’s strong arms with my head on his chest, but when I see a few rays of sun coming through the window, I know it’s time to get going. Colin and Alissa are going to be getting up soon and they’re going to come over here and bang on the door and expect to see two messy beds. I don’t want to ride back in that car for seven hours with them knowing what we did. Talk about awko taco.

  I’m too vulnerable right now to deal with teasing or conversation about it. I need to know exactly where Mick’s head is first. I don’t want to be the only one mooning over our love affair, as brief as it might be. I’m not a total amateur at this stuff. Just because we fit together like puzzle pieces, it doesn’t mean we’re suddenly in a relationship. As much as I might want that to happen, it takes two to tango, and I don’t know if Mick ever does anything but the bump and grind on that dance floor.

  I get up in all my naked glory, feeling like the queen of sexy time, and go over to the bed that hasn’t been touched. I get busy pulling the top cover off and messing up the sheets.

  “What are you doing?” Mick asks in a sleep-roughened voice.

  I shake the top sheet out and then twist it all up. “Making it look like we didn’t go at it like sex-crazed rabbits last night.”

  He sits up on the side of the bed nearest me, rubbing his face.

  I look over and my heart stops beating for a few seconds. His hair is standing on end and his face is covered in patchy beard stubble, but he could not possibly be more adorable. I think I’m falling in love. My heart spasms painfully in my chest. Oh shit. This is going to hurt.

  “What?” he asks, rubbing his head and looking up at me. “Bad hair day?”

  I shake my head, holding back weirdo tears that threaten to ruin the moment. Be cool, Quin. Be casual. Do not go all needy on him. “Good hair day, actually.” My voice sounds all wispy, but I can’t help it.

  He lifts an eyebrow and stands. And then he makes his way slowly around the bed.

  Now I know what a small rabbit feels like when the eagle soars above and the shadow falls on the ground around him. Trapped. Danger.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, moving around the bed to get away from him, trying to act casual about it but probably failing.

  “You look good in the morning,” he says.

  A glance down at his waist tells me he’s got morning-wood-itis in a big way. It’s almost painful-looking. I should probably help him with that. No. Wait. Be cool. Colin and Alissa will be over any minute.

  “Go away, Mick. I have to take a shower.”

  “Not yet you don’t.” He’s almost at the end of the second bed and I’m up near its headboard. A strange fight or flight instinct comes over me and I debate which way to go.

  “Climb up on the bed for me,” he says, gesturing at the pillows.

  “What?” Confusion throws off my instincts and has me just standing there.

  “You heard me. Get up on the bed there. Might as well make this bed really look used, right?”

  He stops, his dick waving as its heavy weight continues to move. Back and forth. Back and forth. I get all tingly just looking at it.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart is beating like crazy.

  “Hands and knees,” is all he says.

  I’m shaking, but I am all-in on this game. Hell to the yeah, I am. Screw people figuring out what we did last night. Screw taking a shower. And screw fake-messing-up this bed. Let’s do this.

  I climb up on the bed and get on my hands and knees.

  Mick gets up behind me and turns me around so I have my head up near the pillows.

  After a five-second condom pause, the tip of his dick is up against my folds, pressing in, sliding up and down to get slippery, and then pressing into me again.

  I can’t see him. All I can see are pillows and the headboard. I’m already sweating and trembling, just over the idea of him taking me this way. I love that he just grabs control and tells me what’s going to happen. I’ve never been with a guy like that. Every other experience has been fumbling around in the dark with a guy I could care less about and me calling way too many of the shots.

  A feeling of my body stretching uncomfortably pulls me back into the moment.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say, my mind going a little la-la. I am no longer in control of my mouth.

  “Why not? You like it, right?” He pushes into me a little more. I know there’s a lot more to go, though, and I’m already panting like a damn dog.

  “Yes, I do like it.” I moan louder as he goes in a little bit farther.

  He’s got his hands on my hips, and he’s using his thumbs to pull me open wider. He slides in more and I push against him, trying to hurry the process. My breasts swing below me in the rhythm that he sets from behind.

  He pulls away. “Uh, uh, uh … just be patient.”

  I reach up with one hand and hold onto the headboard. “I’m not a patient person,” I say, almost growling.

  He leans over and pushes more of himself into me while his hand reaches around and his fingers go to my clit. My body’s response is instantaneous, surprising me. I buck and push back into him hard, taking him into me as my insides spasm with the beginnings of an orgasm. Already? What the …

  He’s pounding into me now, somehow figuring out that it’s exactly what I need.

  I scream. Over and over, and yeah, it’s not a cute sound, either. It’s possible the cops will be called out for a suspected murder, but right now all I care about is getting this orgasm monster out of me.

  Mick is yelling like a man gone wild right along with me.

  When I lose all sensation in my legs, I collapse into the bed on my stomach. He lands on top of me, never missing a stroke. His hand is under me, still touching me down there while he pounds into me from behind. I lift my ass as high as I can to feel it all and take him into me completely, and then five seconds later it’s game over. Exactly twelve strokes more and I am a puddle of goo under a man who feels like he weighs eight hundred pounds.

  I try to breathe around the pillow. “Hello. Hello? Gah, trying to breathe here.”

  He reaches up and yanks the pillow out of my mouth. My hair moves over to cover my face.

  “Thanks. I think,” I say, trying to blow a hole into the hair-curtain that is making it almost as hard to breathe as the pillow was.

  Mick hears me and comes to my rescue, which is great because I seem to be suffering from some sort of temporary paralysis. I can’t move anything but my mouth.

  “Better?” he asks me, after moving my hair gently over to the other side of my head.

  I smile, my eyes closed. “Yes. Better. Thank you.”

  He pulls out of me and lands on his back next to me.

  “You are something else,” he says, breathing out long and loud.

  I open my eyes, and the first thing I see is him lying there staring at the ceiling.

  “If you say so.” I do a push up, my arms finally working again. “I’m going to get in the shower.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he says, sitting up on the side of the bed.

  I stand next to my side of the bed, looking at his back. “Can I go first?”

  “No.” He stands up and walks into the bathroom without another word.

  I’m left in the room with my mouth hanging open. This does not compute. Did we or did we not just have about six hours of solidly awesome sexual moments? Where’s the tenderness? The smiles? The cute teasing? The conversations about what we’re going to n
ame our future babies?

  Half a second before string of cuss words fly out of my mouth, Mick’s head appears from around the corner. “Are you coming or what?”

  “I thought you said …”

  “I said you can’t go first. You have to go at the same time. Come on. Chop chop. We have a road trip to finish and I’m starving.”

  The silly crooked smile that appears on my face stays there through pretty much the whole shower, only slipping away temporarily when I gasp, shout, scream, or otherwise react to Mick putting his hands, tongue, and home run hitter all over my body. God, I love this guy.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  WE’RE IN THE CAR HEADED back south and I can’t stand that Mick is on the other side of the car as me. I’m trying really hard to play it cool, but I can’t help but sneak glance after glance at him. He’s dead gorgeous and I’m completely infatuated with him.

  Maybe I’m wrong or just dreaming, but he seems to be suffering the same sickness as I am. He catches me looking at him about twenty times, but only because he’s doing the same thing. If the goofy grin on his face looks anything like the one I think I’m wearing, there’s no way we’re fooling anyone.

  “So what’s the deal?” Colin asks. “What did you find out last night?”

  I blink a few times, getting all that sexy stuff out of my head so we can focus.

  “Well … a couple of those girls worked in places that didn’t really have a whole lot of contact with Teagan’s dad. But one of them was his assistant, so that was good.”

  I grab his arm and squeeze it. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I’m serious.” His shit-eating grin is enough to send me through the roof.

  “Why didn’t you say anything last night?!” I shout. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. I scramble around in my purse looking for my phone.

  “I was kind of otherwise occupied if you recall,” he says, giving me the look.