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God, Jo, I could never, no, don’t cry again, darling. I know you’re feeling rejected; the bastard, I’d like to kill Justin,’ he said viciously. ‘You don’t need to indulge in casual sex to prove you’re desirable.’ She wanted to deny this analysis but he kissed the corner of her mouth, then the other corner. ‘I know you don’t believe me, but you’ll be better off without him.’
    She did shake her head in denial this time, and the next kiss hit dead centre. He pulled back, but only a fraction. Jo opened her eyes; she still had her eyes open when they moved forward simultaneously. Her lips parted and there was only a momentary delay before he accepted her offer.
     He didn’t just accept it, he took the initiative out of her hands in a big way. She’d never experienced anything that came close to the onslaught of his lips and tongue as his teeth tugged and nipped, his tongue tasted and explored. Her body was filled with a languorous heat, her senses swam, she ached !
    ‘This is crazy!’ The groaned words were wrenched from him. He might have acknowledged insanity, but that didn’t stop his lips from continuing to strain hungrily against hers. His hands slipped to her hips barely covered by the plain cotton nightshirt she wore. The contact made her body jerk.
    ‘That’s lovely, don’t stop,’ she begged throatily. Lovely, exciting, sizzlingly erotic, it was all that and more! Jo had never felt so primitively aroused in her life. As her feet left the floor she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. She arched her back and provocatively pressed her slim, lithe body as close to him as possible.
    ‘Your skin’s so soft, so smooth.’ His tongue strayed over the graceful curve of her collar-bone for a moment and she whimpered with delirious pleasure.
    Blindly, panting hard, Liam reached behind her for the door. More luck than judgement brought their erratic progress, interrupted as it was by gasps and moans as each new sensation was explored and enjoyed, to her narrow bed. He fell with her onto the bed, impressing her body into the soft mattress.
    Her trailing arm sent the bedside light crashing onto the floor. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said as he lifted his head. She didn’t want to illuminate the scene, she didn’t want anything to intrude on the unreal quality of this incredible episode. Dark was safer.
    If she paused long enough to think that it was Liam who
     was pulling her nightshirt over her head, and Liam whose tongue was tasting every inch of her aching breasts, it would spoil everything. She’d be left with the paradox of why she wanted—no, why she needed him to.
    His need was as great as hers, even through the layers of his clothes she could feel that. He was in the grip of a desire just as blind as the one which drove her to rip at his shirt and curse softly with frustration as her fingers fumbled over the buckle of his belt.
    When he took control of that problem she encouraged or very possibly distracted him with soft kisses pressed on the strong curve of his back. He lay back down and she eagerly insinuated herself closer to him, only to be momentarily thrown off her stride when he sat up again, laughing.
    ‘What?’ If he changed his mind now the consequences might well be fatal!
    ‘I’ve still got my boots on.’ Faint laughter still rumbled in the vault of his chest.
    Laughter was rapidly replaced by frantic murmurs when he returned to her. Imprisoned by his heavy, hair-roughened thighs, her nostrils filled with the warm, masculine, aroused scent of his body, she lost what little control she had and every inhibition that had ever restrained her.
    She wanted to taste him, touch him, and she did so with joyous abandon. The strength of his body and its eye-opening muscularity delighted her. He guided her forays with a firm hand, and in his turn touched her until her harsh gasps echoed in the dark room.
    Over the years, she knew, he’d had enough practice at such