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Matt had to close his eyes for a moment as Lindsay touched her lips to the skin of his neck. Had he really thought she was uptight? Shy? Her tongue tasted the hollow below his ear and a dart of fire went straight to his crotch—not that he needed any help in that department. All it had taken was a single touch of her fingers on his shirt and the sound of her surprisingly sultry voice to have him standing at almost painful attention.

It was exhilarating to find that beneath the white lab coat and professional demeanor there was also a sensual, sexual woman. One who was currently in his arms and fully clothed. He’d have to remedy that. Soon.

He put her down on the bed and didn’t give her a chance to get away, instead sliding over the top of her and bracing up on his hands. She felt so good pressed agai

nst his body. “You going to change your mind?” he asked, giving her an out if she needed it. He really, really hoped she didn’t need it, but he also got the feeling she wasn’t the kind of woman who did this sort of thing often. He could ask why now or why him, but he didn’t really care. What he cared about was feeling alive and less angry than he’d felt an hour ago while pounding the living shit out of his heavy bag.

“You getting all serious on me now?” she asked lightly, but there was a look of warning in her eyes. For whatever reason, Lindsay was as determined to keep this as light as he was. Just the way he liked it.

“Of course not. I just like you.” He let his gaze slid down past her breasts and back up. “Yeah,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I like you a lot.”

He pushed himself up and sat astride her hips just long enough to reach for her T-shirt and pull it up over her head. Her caramel-colored hair spread across the pillow and he swallowed as he looked down at the pink lace-edged bra. The gentle swell of her breasts curved above the edge, forming a delicious line of cleavage. Matt thought about removing the bra but curiosity got the better of him. “Is that part of a matching set?” he asked, sliding his gaze up to meet hers.

“Maybe you should find out,” she answered, giving her hips a little lift.

His erection was straining against his jeans now, but he didn’t want this to go too fast. He slid down her body and worked the rivet of her jeans through the buttonhole, then inched the zipper down over her flat stomach. Slowly, he peeled the denim away. Mercy, it was a matching set, a delicate shell-pink bikini that was nothing more than a scrap of fabric.

“Dr. Swan, you are full of surprises tonight,” he said richly, bending his head to lick along the edge of the lace at her hip. She jerked and gasped and then laughed, a throaty exhalation of breath that was sexy as hell.

“I’m ticklish,” she warned.

“Where?”

She braced up on her elbows and her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back. “Everywhere,” she admitted.

He grinned. “Everywhere? I think I might have to test that theory. No one can be ticklish everywhere.”

He tested his theory by kissing her belly button. She squirmed and gave a breathy giggle.

“Okay, so you are ticklish there.” He licked the curve of her waist and she twisted beneath him, trying to escape his tongue as she fell back on the soft pillows. His smile widened. Maybe she wasn’t lying, but he was sure having fun finding out. Next he tasted the inside of her elbow, the hollow of her shoulder. There was less twitching now, and the heat in the room seemed to climb with each laboured breath. The soft giggle was replaced by a gasp that sounded far more like pleasure than sheer sensitivity. “Hmm,” he murmured, letting his lips hum against her skin. Slowly, he slid down, inch by inch, until his mouth was at her breast. Through the fabric of the bra, he sucked on the pointed tip.

“Matt,” she breathed.

“I found one place you’re not ticklish. Are there more?”

The bra fastened in the back, so he slid his hand between her body and the bedspread and flicked open the clasps. The moment the elastic went slack in his hands, he pulled it away from her body, leaving her with only the scrap of her panties remaining. Before he looked for any more sensitive spots he was going to enjoy this part completely.

The skin of her breasts tasted like sugar and vanilla, and before long she arched against him with a familiar rhythm, seeking a partner in the dance he’d begun. He tangled his fingers with the material of her panties and slid beneath it to find her hot and wet. She cried out as he touched her, and he nearly went up in flames. Screw taking it slow. There was a new urgency now pounding through his veins. A need to seek and possess. He slid from the bed and hurried out of his jeans. It was an odd sort of relief, being out of the confines of his clothing, but it was short lived as the demands of his body took over. He wanted her. He wanted her so much it physically hurt.

He reached into a drawer of his bedside table, grabbed a condom and tore the packet open with his teeth. He smoothed it on and then turned his attention to Lindsay. God bless her, she’d hooked her thumbs around the tiny strings at her hips and was wriggling out of the last barrier that stood between them. She was as anxious as he was, and it only increased his urgency.

He joined her on the bed again and spread her knees wide before taking his place between them. She bit down on her lip and met his gaze, her blue eyes on fire with passion and challenge. The fire inside him suddenly blazed out of control. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this badly. Or the last time a woman had looked at him with that naked desire in her eyes.

The invitation was all he needed. He didn’t worry about finesse. Didn’t think about wooing or impressing. He only heard the heavy beat of his pounding need as he pushed inside her, felt her muscles tighten around him as her eyes slammed shut and a low, sexy growl tore from her throat.

He lost his mind completely then, all thoughts crowded out by the intoxicating pleasure of his hips grinding against hers. He loved her strength and how she pistoned her hips upward, meeting each stroke until she had to reach back and grip the bars of the headboard for stability. Sweat slicked both their bodies, and Matt put his hands on the bars next to hers for extra leverage.

God, he was so close, but he didn’t want to go yet. Not without her. The hoarse cries from her throat only urged him on and he pressed his face to her breast and latched on to her taut nipple as he fought to hold on a minute longer.

He didn’t need a whole minute. As he swirled his tongue around the pink tip she let go of the headboard and gripped his ass with strong fingers, pressing upward with surprising strength as she ground against him, coming apart with a long, low growl.

He lost the thin grip of his control and pounded mercilessly until everything tightened and exploded, stars exploding behind his eyelids. Release pulsed through him until he was finally aware of the sound of their harsh breathing, and a soft, sexy laugh that reached in and twisted his heart.

Shit. What had he just done?

Lindsay looked over at the red numbers on the alarm clock and blinked. It was just past five in the morning and by her count she’d had six hours sleep. The first two had come immediately following round one. And it had been quite like a boxing round—they’d pummelled each other, no holds barred, until both of them got their bell rung. Matt had pulled a blanket over them saying they should just catch their breath. Next thing she’d known it was ten o’clock and she woke up curled next to his warm, naked self.

They’d only eaten about half their dinner, so she’d pulled on one of his T-shirts and they’d gone to the kitchen and reheated the takeout. By the time they’d finished they were hungry for each other again, and they’d discovered the convenient height of his bar stools.


Tags: Donna Alward First Responders Romance