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while she climbed on top and rode him straight on ‘til morning.
    Dear Lord!
    Fighting hard to gain control of her hormones and her drooling, she flipped the light switch and led her unexpected visitor into her web—er, her living room.
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    She liked her apartment, which was probably why she intended to renew her lease when it came up next month. After a couple of years in the place, she thought she’d succeeded in making it cozy with large, overstuffed furnishings in warm, earthy shades and golden wood floors sparsely covered by colorful area rugs. She had been aiming for comfort and durability, but now fluffy pillows and ScotchGuard were the last things on her mind. All she could think about was how the sofa cushions would sink beneath her knees if she pushed him down, opened his faded black jeans and impaled herself on what she suspected had to be a truly impressive cock. Judging by the fit of those jeans, it looked like a pretty good bet.
    Clearing her throat, Corinne shut the door behind them and shoved her hands into her pockets, instead of down his pants. What had gotten into her?
    “So,” she said, mostly to distract herself from the subject of his pants, and what waited inside, “you were lurking outside of my apartment for a reason, huh?”
    He smiled, a small, restrained smile that made her desperate to nibble on something, like his earlobe. Or his cock.
    She swore silently. She had to get control of those thoughts!
    “I was going to stop by your office,” he explained, “but by the time I called, they told me you’d left for the night. So I decided to see if I could catch you at home.” He could catch her anytime, and she’d probably thank him for it. Maybe even ask for more. Sheesh, she reflected, striding to the sofa and sitting down so she could cross her legs and press her thighs together without the move being quite so conspicuous. If anyone deserved to be named after history’s most famous fallen angel, it was this Lucifer. She could picture him arguing with an irate deity. She could almost picture him winning. But she couldn’t picture him harboring any jealousy toward mortals. Why should perfection get jealous? Besides which, if he had the same effect on all women that he had on her, the man clearly didn’t need to see anyone as competition.
    She forced herself to respond casually. “Now why did Reggie give you my name? Are you a friend of hers? Because she’s never mentioned you.” Trust me, I’d remember if she had.
    “Well, I need a favor.” He took a seat on the other end of the sofa and watched her through ridiculously green eyes. “But I’m more of a friend of Dmitri’s, actually. I only met Regina last night. I’ve been…out of town.”
    Corinne felt her libido screech to a halt. She pried her gaze away from his crotch, where it had wandered completely without her knowledge. Honest. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath. “All the good ones are married, gay or another species. Shit.”
    “What was that?”
    Her cheeks flushed, and she shook her head quickly, trying to hide her disappointment as she uncrossed her legs. “Uh, I was just wondering how long you’ve known Dmitri.”
    “Not as long as you’re thinking, I assure you.” His mouth remained unsmiling, but he was clearly amused. She wondered how he managed to do that, express things so clearly when his expression rarely changed. “I am about the furthest thing from a vampire you can get. This tan is the real thing.
    Sun-induced.” He paused and leaned conspiratorially closer. “I don’t suffer from the furry form of PMS, Page 19

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    either. I promise.”
    Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, even as she felt herself begin to relax. Her libido certainly wasted no time in revving back up. She re-crossed her legs, the move inching her a tiny bit