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eating at hers, tongue tasting her deeply.
    It was overwhelming, she could hardly breathe, hardly think. Pleasure swamped her as she panted.
    Suddenly Nick lifted his head and she could see the changes the kiss had made in him. His dark hair stood up and the half-smile had gone. His eyes were narrowed, serious; the skin over his cheekbones flushed. His mouth was dark red, swollen, wet. He looked dangerous.
    Now he looked as if he was having trouble carrying her, but it wasn’t that. He was aroused. His breath came in and out in short pants and she could feel him trembling.
    She’d done that. Oh yeah. She’d smile at the thought, but it wasn’t a moment for smiling. It was too big and too serious.
    “You do that again and I’m having you right on the stairs,” he said, voice low and dark.
    For a second she didn’t understand what he was saying and then she did. Her thighs clenched at the image his words conveyed, both of them naked and writhing on the stairs.
    “Uncomfortable,” she gasped. “Bed.”
    His head jerked in a nod. “Right.”
    And then he flew. In a second they were in her bedroom and he was setting her down on her feet, though her legs would barely hold her.
    Elle held on to Nick as if she were holding on to a log in a raging river. He bent on one knee, as a knight does to his lady. She was immensely touched, reaching out to lay her hand on his head, fingers digging into his scalp. His hair was so dark the warmth came as a shock.
    From this angle, looking down at him, he was foreshortened, like an art manual on perspective. He was all dark lashes, high cheekbones, sexy stubble. Insanely broad shoulders and huge hands, which were— oh— she smiled to herself, at her whimsy that he’d fallen to his knees before her. Nope. He was unlacing her boots and sliding them off, first the left then the right. She braced herself on his shoulders as he lifted her feet, fingers digging into the solid muscle. Even this was thrilling.
    Boots off, Nick rose, so close to her she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. With the thrill of possession, she held his rib cage while he swiftly unbuttoned her thin sweater. With a swipe of his big hands, it fell off her shoulders. He reached around and unhooked her bra and she leaned into him, just to feel those heavenly muscles against her.
    “Let go of me,” he muttered as he worked her pants and panties down off her backside. Let go of him? Never! She’d just found him again, so why—
    Oh.
    Elle let go of Nick and the sweater and bra simply slid to the floor, as did pants and panties. He lifted her effortlessly and she kicked her clothes off and away. He held her around the waist with one strong arm and reached down to pull her wool socks off. There was a hole in one sock, but he wasn’t looking at her feet—he was looking at her face.
    And now she was naked. The first time she’d ever been naked with a man. There was no heat on; she should be cold, but there was no question of feeling cold with Nick looking at her like that.
    “God.” His jaw muscles clenched as he looked her up and down, slowly. “You’re beautiful.”
    She didn’t look down at herself; she knew what she looked like. “Am I, Nick?” she asked softly, watching his eyes.
    “Oh, yeah.” He nodded his head in a quick jerk. “Get under the covers. It’s cold in here.”
    Standing so close to him was like standing next to a man-high radiator, but under the covers meant the bed, and getting in bed meant they were going to make love, so she obediently pulled back the bedclothes and slid in.
    And, oh, he was stripping fast and he was just so beautiful, he seemed unreal. She couldn’t even tell what clothes he had on, really. Whatever he was wearing was dark and it all drifted to the ground, and then he turned and she had a view of him, full on, so heartbreakingly beautiful she nearly closed her eyes.
    He’d grown a few inches and had put on a lot of pounds, and it was all muscle. He