“It is. Are you cold?”
“A little. But only because it’s freezing.”
He laughed, then shocked the hell out of her by moving behind her and wrapping her in his arms. “Better?”
“Much.” She could barely get the word out. He was warm and solid and sexy, and he was never going to be hers.
“Think you’ll stay in Milwaukee forever, Marie?”
She shrugged, taken aback by the question. “I have no plans to leave. Why, what about you?”
“I’d like to retire somewhere warmer.”
“Like?”
“The darkest jungles of Africa.”
She twisted to see his face, which she could, but only barely in the dim light. “Are you serious?”
“Nope.” He grinned and she managed to grin back. “I’m thinking North Carolina in the mountains. Maybe Colorado in the mountains. Or Washington State—”
“In the mountains.”
“How did you know?” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Do you like mountains, Marie?”
“I love them.”
“Good.”
“Why, I get to come visit?”
His arms tightened around her. “Something like that.”
“Sure. I’d love that.” She’d hate it. After tonight, she was—
“Do you want to sleep alone tonight, Marie?”
She stopped breathing, had to run his question through her brain again. Did she want to sleep alone? A buzz of pleasure and excitement chased around her body. She had to make sure there was nothing she could misunderstand, that he really meant…
Oh, Quinn.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”
“Thank God.” His arms turned her in a willing circle, and he kissed her, not platonically, not sweetly, not like he’d ever kissed her before. Not like anyone had ever kissed her before. Passion. Intensity. Fierce desire.
For her.
He backed her into the room; she nearly tripped on the threshold; they laughed like old friends, which they were, and about to become new lovers. The mattress hit the back of her thighs and she fell onto the bed. He wasn’t far behind her, covered her imperfect female body, with his magnificently male one, and she was lost in a haze of lust so strong she could barely take in what was happening.
Her hands were all over him; his were all over her. Her shirt was off. His shirt was off; she caught her breath at the sight of his chest and abdomen, still youthful and muscular.
“Marie, you are so beautiful.” He unhooked her bra, lowered his mouth to her breast, groaning with pleasure.
He thought she was beautiful.
His pants were off. Her skirt was off. His briefs. Her underpants.
He was hard, smooth and beautiful, hard for her.
She stretched out long on the bed, wanting to minimize her stomach, thinking she should start a serious gym regimen if she was going to be competing with—
“I have wanted this for so long.” He kissed down her stomach. “So long, Marie. For months I’ve been wanting this, wanting you. You’ve been leading me in this completely sadistic dance and I’ve been doing everything I could think of to get you into my life, into my bed.”
She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. “Sadistic? Me?”
He was silent. Silent because he was kissing her in the most intimate way possible and she was so wildly aroused she could only lie back and let out helpless moans of pleasure. His tongue was so warm and she hadn’t been touched there in so long. She was out of her mind. She wasn’t going to last. He had to stop or she’d—
She clutched the bedspread and let out a sharp cry as an orgasm took her by surprise, coming on so swiftly and strong that she didn’t have time to take control, to save it to share with him.
“Quinn…” She struggled to lift her head, feeling as if her body had weights on every inch. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
He laughed, all previous tension gone. “That felt like a mistake?”
“No.” She laughed with him, stretching her arms luxuriously. “No, not at—”
A sudden knocking shocked her to sitting up in half a second. Quinn’s curse shocked her into more giggles.
“Stay there.” He lunged off the side of the bed, grabbed his pants and had them on in an instant, though he had some trouble getting the zipper up over his divinely wonderful erection. An erection she was going to be able to get to know intimately.