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Karla with so much enthusiasm—he stood up and
walked into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself up, then
returned to the bedroom. He pulled from the dresser a clean pair of
sweats and a USMC t-shirt.
    Between having sex and being out of bed for
the first time in more than two weeks, he felt as weak as a
kitten.
    Kitten .
    He’d called her kitten. Where the hell had
that pet name come from? Oh, yeah . Her friend, Cassie, had
called her Kitty as they were hiking down the mountain looking for
Angelina. He’d wondered all those years ago in the Chicago bus
station what nickname she hadn’t wanted to reveal to him.
Kitty.
    He preferred kitten. His kitten.
    Aw, fuck that shit.
    Hell, he needed to check on her. He crossed
the hallway and knocked softly on her door. Was Cassie still
sleeping next door? He hadn’t ventured out of his bedroom since
he’d gotten home from the hospital. Karla’s best friend would find
out soon enough what he’d done, but he wasn’t ready to face the
accusations of being a pervert yet. He needed to regain more of his
strength first.
    “Karla.” He hoped his voice carried through
the room's solid, vintage door.
    No response. He should just go back to bed
and leave her alone. Or maybe he should get Cassie up. Karla might
be more comfortable talking with a woman at a time like this. Then
the sound of sobs coming from Karla’s room undid him, twisting his
gut into knots tighter than the ones he used in rope suspension. Aw, hell . He’d made her cry. He opened the door and found
her lying across the bed wrapped in a towel. Her long bare legs
stirred his dick back to life.
    Fuck it all to hell, old man. Can’t you
control your head anymore?
    “Karla?” Her body tensed and she rubbed her
hands against her eyes, but didn’t turn to face him. “Hon, we need
to talk.”
    “Not now, Adam. Please, just don’t say
anything more.”
    More? What had he said? He tried to think
back, but came up blank. Damned pills. “Hon, I can’t tell you how
sorry I…”
    She rolled over and glared at him, dashing
more tears away from her cheeks. The towel loosened to expose her
beautiful breasts. His dick throbbed harder. Until she came along,
he could go months without having sex, and now he was eager to go
at it again in what, less than an hour? What the fuck was the
matter with him?
    Judging by the glare in Karla’s eyes, having
sex with him was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. Good girl . At least one of them was thinking clearly.
    “Adam Montague, I don’t want to hear another
word about your regrets.”
    She sat up, ignoring her bared breasts. Well, he certainly couldn’t ignore them. Their dusky pink areolas
begged to be touched. Sucked. Bitten.
    Whoa! He wouldn’t be having rough
sex—scratch that. He wouldn’t be having any kind of sex with
Karla ever again.
    “What happened in your bed this morning was
the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me, and I won’t
let you cheapen it or make me feel dirty because I didn’t stop you
when I should have.”
    When she should have? Hell, he was the
one on top. Wasn’t he?
    Karla stood and came closer to him, first
stabbing him with her angry gaze, then stabbing his chest with her
finger. At least she finally pulled the towel up to cover her
breasts. “I’ve wanted you to make love to me for months. Now all I
want is for you to get the hell out of my room.”
    Shit, he’d not only hurt her physically, he’d
hurt her emotionally. Total clusterfuck.
    Adam reached out and pulled her closer,
rubbing his hands up and down her bare arms. “Karla, I never wanted
to hurt you. If I hadn’t been on all those meds…” The flash of pain
in her eyes told him he’d just hurt her again. Okay, he needed to
steer clear of that tack. “Hon, your first time should have been
with someone who can make a commitment to you…” Shit . Now
tears. A woman's waterworks always wrenched his gut, but he'd
rarely seen Karla cry. He reached out