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Gripping her hair in his fist, Shane reclined her head, opening the line of her throat to his worshipful lips and tongue. He trailed a path of liquid fire over her flesh that left her dizzy, totally awash in sensation. He tugged her hips in tighter, and Crystal moaned at the friction the movement created. He was deliciously hard and thick between her legs. Unable to resist, she rocked herself against him as he laid her back farther so he could kiss the small part of her chest the V-neck of the hoodie revealed. Slowly, he drew down the zipper, trailing kisses lower and lower until the heat of his breath fanned over her nipple through the thin fabric of her uniform.

Just as slow, Shane raised her back up, bringing their bodies together again. Crystal ran her hands over his chest and stomach, but what she most needed was to feel him, skin on skin. Pulling back from their kiss, she tugged at the hem of his shirt, silently asking for permission.

“Anything you want,” he whispered, taking her belly and her heart on a loop-the-loop.

Lifting his shirt just a little, she threaded her hands underneath, reveling in the feel of smooth, masculine skin over well-defined muscle. She traced her fingers over the ridges and through the soft trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans and led up to a light covering across his chest. Her arms further lifted his shirt until Shane finally reached over his head in that one-handed way men had and tugged the fabric free and clear. He dropped it to the floor of the truck beside them.

Shane sat back against the corner where the door met the seat and watched her look at him. Because she couldn’t not look. As cut as he appeared with the shirt on, it was nothing compared to his bare flesh. The man had a leanness to his definition Crystal found so damn sexy. His body possessed none of the fake, overblown musculature of Bruno’s steroid-built body but had every bit of the strength.

Her gaze and her fingers fell to a tattoo over his heart. She couldn’t quite make out the details in the dimness, but it appeared to be a dagger. “What’s this?” she asked, wishing she could see it better.

Shane grabbed her hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her open palm. “An old, sad memory.”

The sadness was apparent in his voice, too. It made Crystal want to hold him and protect him in return. “I’m sorry,” she said, wanting to know more, but not wanting to be asked anything else in return. So she figured it wasn’t fair to push him.

“Don’t be.” He tugged her in for another kiss, and now everywhere her hands landed, they encountered warm, hard flesh. She wanted to feel him against her breasts and her stomach, but she would never be able to bring herself to take off her tops. When Bruno took her from behind, even he had her keep on the shirt she wore. No, she could be satisfied with what she had, because getting to experience this stolen moment was absolutely intoxicating, particularly as Shane devoured her in another molten-hot, breath-stealing kiss. “You’re so damn beautiful, Crystal,” he murmured.

You wouldn’t think so if you saw my back, said a little voice.

His hands landed on her hips and rocked her once, twice, three times against his cock, chasing away the destructive thoughts and replacing them with pure erotic sensation. Somehow, his touch and his kiss and the way he moved against her managed to be both urgent and gentle. She loved the combination because it gave her the reassurance of his desire and the security that she was safe.

It was perfect for her. He was perfect for her.

Except he wasn’t.

Burying her face in his neck, Crystal concentrated on the heat and pressure building between her legs. It had been so long since she’d last orgasmed that she wasn’t sure she could, but damn did it feel absolutely amazing to try. She gasped and moaned as he rocked her harder, faster.

“I want you to come,” he whispered against her ear. “I want to hold you in my arms and feel you fall apart. Because of me.”

“Shane,” she rasped, as her fingers clenched the muscles of his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetness, hold on to me.” He kissed her neck and gripped her hips harder and met her rocks with thrusts of his own.

“Oh, my God,” she said. Sensation swirled through her belly and congregated more and more in her clit until she knew, she absolutely knew, that Shane was going to make her come.

The orgasm was like a bomb detonating underneath her, exploding her into a million pieces and throwing her to the stars. Crystal moaned and held her breath as wave after wave of bliss washed through. Shane claimed her mouth in a fiery kiss that stole what little breath she still had. When the intensity receded, she found herself wrapped so tightly around Shane’s body, she wasn’t sure they would ever again come apart.

And she was totally okay with that.

Because earlier in the night, she’d worried she was falling for Shane. And now she knew she’d been wrong. Not falling. Fallen.

Crystal collapsed against Shane, and his arms held her there like he didn’t want her to move any more than she did.

This warm, soaring pressure in her chest had to be love. Not that she had a lot of experience with the emotion. Not romantic love, anyway. But she couldn’t think of anything else that would leave her feeling so invincible and so vulnerable at the same time.

And it wasn’t just because of the orgasm, miraculous as that had been. It was Shane’s goodness and protectiveness and attentiveness. It was his sensitivity and decency. It was his gentle, comforting, arousing touch. The way he called her sweetness. That charming smile.

The fact that he was six-plus feet of gorgeous man was just the cherry on top.

She’d been so comfortable, so blissed out, that Crystal hadn’t become conscious of the wandering of his hands until after they’d slipped under her hoodie and the tank to her uniform and stroked upward, just lazy, massaging drags of his fingers against her bare skin.

Oh, no! She jerked back out of his arms so hard she had to brace on her hands to avoid falling flat on her back across the seat.

But Shane’s darkening expression told her she hadn’t moved fast enough. He’d felt the scars.

Crystal’s throat went tight as tears of humiliation and disappointment threatened. Of course this moment of happiness couldn’t last. Not for her. She swung her legs off him, slid across the seat, and went for the door.

“Crystal, wait,” Shane said, grasping her by the elbow.

“Let me go,” she said. Last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him, but the emotional roller coaster of this day had left her fragile and shaky. She had to get away.

“What the hell was that?” he asked in a disgusted tone. God, she didn’t want to see the expression that went with the voice.

The leather of the seat creaked like he was sliding closer.

It’s midnight, Cinderella. Your coach just turned into a pumpkin.

Shane’s hand landed gently on her back.

Without another thought, she yanked her elbow free, pushed open the door, and jumped out of the truck so fast she pitched forward and had to catch herself on her hands. Gravel and macadam bit into her palms, leaving them raw and burning.

“Crystal!”

She took off at a dead run. Up the sidewalk and across the street. And, as little rocks and other debris flayed the soles of her feet, she realized she’d left her flip-flops in Shane’s truck.

Lost her shoes. Just like Cinderella.

Except her life was no fairy tale. Not by a long shot.

“Crystal!” Shane’s voice—desperate, closer.

She wrenched open her truck door, scrabbled in, and shut and locked the door. Her hands were shaking so bad that it took three tries to get the key from her pocket and into the ignition. By then Shane was at her door and knocking on the window.