As he took her higher and higher, her world was reduced to nothing more or less than the point where their bodies joined. Her breath caught in her throat and she clenched her muscles tight around him. And finally he took her over the edge. Her entire body shook as she came, feelings and emotions colliding with physical sensations that she thought would never end.
Aftershocks shook her body but eventually the world around Micki came into focus. Her head was buried in Damian's neck and he held on to her waist, still deep inside her.
She tipped her head back and met his gaze. Heavy-lidded and breathing raggedly, he managed to treat her to a sexy smile. "Very nice."
She felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks and tried to stand but he held on tight. "In a rush?" he asked.
"No. It's just-"
"You're not used to anything like this." One arm swept around the kitchen, encompassing the table and their chair.
She laughed. "You could say that."
"It's not a habit of mine, either." His voice was gruff, his gaze deep and serious as he smoothed his hands over her unruly curls. "You just make me crazy."
She swallowed hard. So he'd said, but she couldn't wrap her mind around this man wanting her so badly. "It was definitely good sex," she said, deliberately belittling what had just occurred.
Damian shook his head. "There's sex and then there's sex."
Which meant what? she wondered. What did he want from her? Right now she was off balance, shaken b
y the intensity of the encounter and the feelings she was developing for him. She wanted to put her clothes back on and gain some sort of leverage at least in her own mind.
He'd have to step up first, Micki decided. If there was more to this for him than a quick lay, he'd have to admit as much to her. "And which kind of sex did we just have?” she asked casually. She hoped.
The phone rang, cutting off any answer he might have had. She jumped off him, grabbed her clothes and scrambled for the bathroom, leaving Damian to answer the call naked.
Damian figured he'd never again look at the kitchen table or any meal he ate there the same way. He hung up the phone and pulled on his jeans, then picked up the rest of his clothes and headed for the shower. Anything to avoid telling Micki that it had been Coach Donovan on the phone. The doctor had filled management in on his condition and he had to regain control, convince them he was fine. He'd promised to return in twenty-four hours.
Which meant one more day with Micki.
He waited for her to shower and met her in the hallway. "Want to go for a drive?"
She met his gaze. "Sure. Care to tell me where we're going?"
He grabbed her hand, but not before taking the time to ogle her legs and amazing body in the ruffled black miniskirt and tie-dyed tank top she wore. "You really ought to dress up more often. It brings out the real you."
She tipped her head to one side, the damp curls hitting her shoulders. "How so?"
"This skirt is lively and fun. Like you. The top is flirty and sexy. Also like you."
He braced his hand on the wall over her head and leaned close, inhaling the fresh, fragrant scent of her shampoo and savoring the excitement pulsing through his veins at the thought of spending another day alone with her. They might only have twenty-four hours but he intended to enjoy each one with no thought or pressure of his real life intruding.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you see what you want to see?" she asked through glossy lips.
He studied her for a moment. "I see what the problem is."
She narrowed her gaze. "I didn't know there was one."
"Just because you've outwardly made a transformation in how you dress, and just because my sisters' choice in clothing helps you along, doesn't mean you're used to it in here." He tapped the left side of her chest, above her heart.
She swallowed hard. "Am I that easy to read?"
"Only because I'm looking. I want to know all about you and I'm glad you're making it simple."
She squared her shoulders.
Obviously that notion bugged her.