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raspy, dueling, demanding and getting. Her body was on fire. She ceased to exist except for the flaming core that began deep in her woman’s center and blazed upward. Her nipples burned with desire. She wanted their clothes gone. She wanted Beck nude so she could run her hands over his body. She wanted her ridiculous sundress to disintegrate this minute so her nipples could brush against his chest. She moaned and he released her mouth, tearing his lips away with obvious reluctance. He was breathing hard. She liked that. He felt the same as she.
    “I swear if you stop this time,” she groaned, “I’ll put a spell on you.”
    “You already have,” he grunted, the sound of his voice guttural, primal.
    He swept her up in his arms and turned toward the stairs. Rhett Butler and Scarlet O’Hara she thought, then pushed it aside. Phil Spencer and Beck Crawford. Oh yeah, much better. At the top of the stairs, she pointed to her bedroom. He literally kicked the door open and carried her in and dumped her on the bed. She might have been offended but his hands went to her dress, pushing aside the fabric, smoothing over the flesh he exposed, captivating her. From her prone position, she managed to unfasten his jeans then his shirt. She was panting now, shamelessly, without restraint. The best part—so was he.
    They came together in a clash of bodies hungry for each other. How could that be, they’d only known each other a few days, she thought fleetingly, before all thought became impossible. His cock slid inside her as if they’d been made to fit. His movements were urgent, his stamina amazing, his control only good enough to last until she made her last gasp and tightened against him. She felt the powerful thrumming of his release and her answering response. Every fiber of her body was caught in a vise that she was certain wouldn’t release until she’d drawn her final breath.
    It took a long time to come down, to breathe normally again, for muscles to relax. She tasted his sweat. Every sensation she possessed was filled with Beck, his scent, the sound of his hoarse gasps, the feel of him. Their chests rose and fell together then the movement slowed and they lay as if barely breathing, as if they’d ceased to be. Then he stirred and raised his head. His blue eyes were dark, regretful.
    “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
    “Don’t be,” she said, rolling in on herself against his implied rejection. “I’m not.”
    “I should have taken my time with you,” he said. “A woman like you needs to be appreciated.”
    She brushed the hair from her face and looked at him. “I’m not complaining,” she said with a hint of smile. “Of course, if it wasn’t satisfactory, you could try again.”
    “I plan to,” he answered, “as soon as I recover.”
    “How long will that take?” she asked greedily.
    He laughed.
    “I thought you were sorry you’d made love to me,” she said, sobering.
    “I’m not, although I shouldn’t have,” he answered, turning away from her.
    “Why?” she demanded, leaning over him so he had to look at her. Her breasts rested against his side. His eyes darkened again, with desire, she realized.
    “At the moment, I can’t remember,” he said and reached for her again.
    She dodged aside. “I’m going to shower first,” she announced with a saucy glance over her shoulder.
    “Me, too,” he said, bounding after her. The shower was the most interesting, erotic one she’d ever experienced. Beck soaped her down then she washed his large body, paying particular attention to his hard, jutting erection. Her body ached for him, and he lifted her high so she wrapped her legs around his waist and settled on his cock. Pinned against the shower wall, with warm water cascading over them, she was helpless to move while he pumped against her until she came again, throwing back her head and screaming with every pulse of his culmination. They showered again, dried off and made their way back to