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kind of guy he was. A gentleman to the core.
    For now, he lazily explored, walking his fingertips over the lower rungs of the ladder of her ribs, seeking and finding the hairline scar he’d noted earlier. From a knife wound, he figured.
    She shifted under his hand, restless, and he stilled, waiting for her to settle before continuing his gentle exploration of sweet, satin skin.
    Her palm slid over the back of his hand, and he paused again. But instead of stopping him, she guided his hand higher under the T-shirt, until he felt the ticklish stab of nipple against his palm. Holy mother of God. She was encouraging him.
    He closed his eyes as he cupped her breast for the first time, fascinated by the soft, warm weight in his hand. When his thumb dragged over her nipple, teasing it into a firmer erection, she shifted her head back against his shoulder and moaned low in her throat. She wiggled a little, brushing her butt up against him in erotic invitation. She turned her head slightly, bringing her lips within inches of his, her breath cool against his cheek. “Is that what I think it is?”
    Something was off here. Seriously off. This was not the same woman he’d had to pick up off the floor. Not that he was complaining. Oh, hell , no.
    She shifted in his arms so that she faced him, showing no signs of discomfort, and one finger bumped over his top lip and trailed tantalizingly along his bottom lip. “It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”
    Before he could respond, she pressed soft, warm lips to his and kissed him. Gentle at first, tentative, but growing in depth and aggression until her tongue swept into his mouth. Every cell of his body focused on her mouth devouring his. She kissed like she looked—intense and deadly and . . . and . . . why was he still thinking?
    When she pulled slightly away, coming up for air, he brushed the hair back from her face with one hand. He loved the way it felt between his fingers. Silky. Everything about her was like that. Satiny and smooth yet with an underlying layer of muscle and danger. She could fuck him or snap him in two in a heartbeat—
    She straddled him in one efficient move, leaning over him for another slow but thorough, openmouthed kiss that left him gasping and harder than he’d ever been. Chriiiiiiiiist.
    He put his hands on her arms to slow her down. “Careful,” he croaked. “Your shoulder.”
    “It’s all better, thanks to you,” she murmured against his lips as she circled his wrists with strong, slim fingers and flattened them to the bed, her midnight hair falling forward. The ends swayed over his face in soft, feathery caresses. “Be still,” she ordered, her storm-blue eyes dark with intent. “Don’t move.”
    He obeyed because he couldn’t believe how incredible this was . . . how . . . unlikely . . .
    Working his shirt up to his neck, she began kissing her way across his chest. Her tongue wrapped around his left nipple, and he arched his head back into the pillow. Oh, God, oh, God.
    He had to touch her, had to, but the minute his palms skimmed over her arms, she stopped and pierced him with narrowed eyes. “I told you to be still.”
    God, that voice . Every time she spoke, a chill of excitement thrilled through him. He imagined her reading a book on tape, something sultry and erotic . . . any man listening would end up helplessly and painfully aroused.
    As though she’d read his mind, she repositioned herself and curled cool fingers around his cock. She began a firm, masterful stroke that had the air gusting out of him. Holy . . . holy . . .
    And then, just when he thought he’d embarrass himself and explode into her hand, she took his rigid cock into her mouth. Her magical tongue swirled and massaged and licked like she’d never get enough, a low, approving hum in the back of her throat. He wrapped his hand in her hair to help guide her and closed his eyes. Wow, just . . . wow . . .
     
    Sam started awake, panting and disoriented, her heart