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“I feel safe with you,” she offered. And it was true. Was that the same as trust? Trust was such a big word.

“I think it’s a good place to start.”

He reached for the end of the towel that was tucked around her breasts. She stiffened and very nearly raised her hands to stop him, but at the last moment, she lowered them slowly back to her sides.

He didn’t simply tear the towel away. Watching her all the while, he carefully unwound it until it was loose and barely covering her flesh. Then with a gentle tug, it drifted to the floor and she stood naked and painfully vulnerable to his gaze.

She lowered her gaze and closed her eyes, unsure of what to do next. Never had sex come with such unsettling emotions. She was in control. She drove the action. She played, she taunted. Everything was by her rules.

But now she found herself at a complete and utter disadvantage, and panic welled from deep within, threatening to overwhelm her.

“Do you know what I see?” he asked in a husky, deep voice that slid over her skin like soul-deep comfort.

He nudged her chin up until she was forced to look back at him. Such honesty was reflected in his gaze. Frank appraisal like he’d judged her and deemed her worthy. What did it matter what he thought? Why was she so torn up over the idea that somehow he’d find her undesirable or lacking and back away? Backing away was what she did.

“What?” she asked in barely a whisper, drawn to the earnest blaze in his eyes.

“I see a beautiful woman who’s soft in all the right places. Who would be beautiful now or six sizes larger. I see a woman who tries very hard to hide from the world and perhaps herself. But you can’t hide from me, Lyric. I’m learning you. I want to learn more.”

She inhaled sharply. His words hit her in the gut, driving the air from her lungs. She stared at him, baffled by his assessment. Baffled by the warmth in his eyes and how his gaze stroked over her body as though she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

It was a silly thought. There were certainly women more beautiful, but in this moment, standing in front of him, she felt like she somehow stood above all the rest.

No one talked to her when they had sex with her. It was just . . . sex. Hot, sweaty and fast. Get it over with; move on; don’t dwell on emotion.

But with this man, she had the feeling that it would never be just sex, and that idea unsettled her. It frightened her. Making love was for people who were in love, who used sex as an intimate expression of that love. It wasn’t for people like her, to whom love was an ugly, gray thing.

“Nothing to say to that?”

She shook her head again.

He chuckled. “I’ve never seen you without anything to say. I like it.”

Before she could respond, he pressed in close, cupped her shoulders in his strong hands and bent to kiss her.

She loved his kisses. They unraveled her.

Her breasts pushed again his chest. His body cupped around hers, flush, so warm and solid. A restless, itchy sensation prickled over her skin. She wanted to feel his flesh against hers. She wanted no barrier between their bodies.

Before she realized she had, she raised her hands and pushed underneath his T-shirt until her hands slid over his taut belly.

He immediately froze. His tongue stilled over hers and she could feel the huff of his breath over her face.

Thinking she’d jumped the gun, she immediately withdrew and clenched her fists at her sides. She wasn’t used to withstanding seduction. She was usually the aggressor. Playing by someone else’s rules was alien.

Connor eased back just a step and then he reached for the hem of his shirt. Giving it an impatient yank, he hauled it over his head and dropped it to the floor.

Then he stepped back to her and circled her wrists with his fingers. He raised her hands and placed them against his chest, holding them there against the solid wall of his muscle.

“I love you touching me.”

He brought one hand to his mouth and kissed each fingertip before finally sucking her pinkie into his mouth. Hot and moist. It sent a thrill down her spine.

“Take my pants off, Lyric. I want you to touch me. I don’t think I’ll be able to get enough.”

She licked her lips as he lowered her hands to his waist. She shook so bad that she fumbled clumsily with the button of his fly. The sound of the zipper was loud. It broke through the heavy silence and made her flinch as she eased it all the way down.

Slowly she peeled the denim over his hips and down his legs until it gathered around his ankles. He stepped free and stood before her, the burning question at last answered.

She laughed softly and raised her gaze to Connor, a smile twisting her lips.

He arched an eyebrow. “What’s so funny? I have to tell you, laughing when you’ve got a guy down to his underwear is never a good thing.”

“I was right,” she teased.

“About?”

“You’re a boxer brief guy.”

He grinned smugly and mischief lit his eyes. “So you have been thinking about me.”

Damn. “I may have wondered. But that was it.”

“Uh-huh. Admit it, Lyric. You’ve been thinking about me every bit as much as I’ve been thinking about you.”

She hooked her fingers in the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulled him closer to her. “Maybe.”

“I got a hard-on for you the very first time we met. You and that sassy mouth of yours had me so hard, and I was desperate for you not to know.”

One corner of her mouth went up and she reached gently to caress the very noticeable bulge between his legs. His cock strained against the cotton material, a hard ridge trapped against his body.

What would he expect? Would he want her to take the lead now? He’d seemed to cede control when he’d asked her to undress him. Then she frowned. Or maybe he expected to direct her through it all. Was he in control or was she?

He tipped a finger underneath her chin and nudged it upward until once again his heated gaze bored into her. “Why the frown?”

“Who’s in control?” she blurted. “I’m not sure . . . I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

“Does it matter?” he asked lazily. “Why do either of us have to control everything? Why can’t we just enjoy each other for a while? You tell me what you like, what feels good to you. I’ll tell you what I like.”

She smiled and sent her hand seeking into his underwear until her fingers wrapped around his rigid erection. His breath caught and he went completely still.

“Does that feel good?” she asked innocently.

“It’ll feel a hell of a lot better when you get your mouth wrapped around it,” he drawled.

When she would have gone to her knees, he caught her by the elbows and hauled her up against him.

“I don’t expect you to service me before I’ve made you feel good, sweetheart.”

Then his mouth closed over hers, so hot and wicked. She melted, let herself go limp against him as he picked her up and walked her to the edge of the bed.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him down with her when he would have laid her on the mattress.

“You’re like a feast and I have no idea where to start,” he said in a low voice. “So much to savor. I don’t want to miss a single taste of your sweetness.”

“You’re lethal,” she said helplessly. “How can I possibly resist you when you say such pretty words?”

He grinned. “I think the point is that you’re not supposed to resist me.”

His mouth brushed across her shoulder and he stopped to nibble a path to the column of her neck. Then he retraced back to her shoulder and he sank his teeth into her flesh.

“Mmmm.”

“You like that?” he husked against her skin.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

He chuckled and then licked the spot where he’d bitten her. As he wandered down her body with his oh-so-delectable mouth, she wondered if she’d have a mark where he’d bitten her. The completely irrational part of her hoped so. She wanted a tangible reminder of his possession.