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away, and suddenly she couldn’t bear to not be touching him. She
took a step forward, ready to put her hands on him. It didn’t matter where.
    He drew her up
short by lifting his right arm and holding out a bouquet of long-stemmed red
roses. She blinked and missed a step, more puzzled than anything. It actually
took her a moment to understand what she was seeing.
    Roses. He was
offering her roses.
    As if to answer
the unspoken question, he said, “These are for you.”
    Her hands moved
to take them of their own volition. They were beautiful, she noted almost
absently. They were also unnecessary. He’d never brought her flowers before. He
didn’t need to. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.
    How...weird.
    She looked up to
see him gauging her reaction, expectation in his eyes. “Thank you,” she said,
the words coming automatically on their own. “You shouldn’t have.” Really,
really shouldn’t have.
    “Not a big deal.
I wanted to.”
    This was a very
strange conversation. She was standing there, aching to touch him, aching to
have him touch her, and they were talking about roses.
    He was right in
front of her. And she wasn’t touching him.
    A spike of
desire pierced the cloud of confusion in her mind, filling her with a
single-minded sense of purpose.
    “And this is
what I want,” she said.
    Flinging the
forgotten roses aside, she launched herself into his arms.

 
    Chapter Two
     
     
    Bobby caught her
in midair. The force of her body rocked him back on his heels, but he held his
ground. It had been too damn long since he’d had a woman in his arms—had this woman in his arms—and suddenly they were full of the warm, soft feel of her.
The onslaught of touches and feels and smells came crashing over him like a
wave, filling his head with her. All he could do was hold on tight and never
let go.
    Then there was
the taste of her. She grabbed his head in both hands and pulled it down to her,
as demanding as ever. He couldn’t hold back the smile even as their mouths met.
The woman loved to kiss. He used to think he liked it to, but until he’d met
her he’d never known just how good it could be. Their lips meshed, frantically
nipping and suckling, both wanting as much from the kiss as they could get.
Months of frustration burst forward, desperate to be satisfied. They’d both
waited so long for this.
    He flicked his
tongue forward, ready to plunge it into the moist heat of her mouth. Hers was
already waiting at the entrance, all set to do the same into his. The tips of
their tongues met, then leapt back. A spark of pure electricity passed between
them. He felt it all the way down to his cock, and followed the tremor that
quaked through her body as he held her in his arms. She teased him, darting her
tongue out, sliding it along the length of his, urging him forward. He chased,
she retreated.
    Her whole body
seemed to surround him. Her arms found their way around his shoulders, her
fingers rubbing into his hair. Her legs wound around his and she dug her heels
into the back of his thighs. He already had a raging hard-on, and she ground
her pelvis against him. His length fit snug against the soft, yielding flesh at
the core of her body, and the feel of it there sent a jolt straight to his
brain, obliterating all thought for a moment. All that was left was instinct.
The growl that emerged from low in his throat came of its own will, deep from
some primal place inside him. All he wanted was to slam her up against the
nearest vertical surface and drive himself into her all the way to the hilt. Just
like that first night. It didn’t matter if she was wearing panties. Through
them or around them, he’d get there.
    Somehow he had
the presence of mind to lurch forward into the apartment and kick the door shut
with the heel of his foot. They’d given her neighbors enough of a show. What
happened next was strictly between them.
    The sound of the
door slamming shut seemed to draw her attention. She dragged