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“Is that true?” she whispered, finally finding her voice again. “You can’t keep your hands off me?”

“Not unless you tell me no. You understand what I’m saying? You can always tell me no and I’ll leave you the hell alone.”

Pushing the covers back, she scrambled onto her knees. “No. I mean . . . that’s not what I want. I don’t want you to leave me alone.”

“Be sure, Lily. Because it isn’t going to be nice and easy. I’ve waited too long for it. And the same rules apply.” His hands flexed at his sides, his breathing getting deeper as he dragged that intensely erotic gaze down her body, then slowly up to her face again. His expression was raw-honed and deliciously male, full of primitive hunger and intent. “Just sex. That’s all I can give you.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t what she wanted, but when it came to this man she’d take what she could get.

His gaze got a little sharper. “You even know what that means?”

Her laugh was husky. “I’m not a starry-eyed virgin, Scott. I understand just sex.”

She could have sworn he’d flinched when she said the word virgin. “I don’t want to talk about . . . that,” he practically croaked, sounding like a boulder had lodged in his throat.

“Why?” she asked, her own gaze starting to get a little narrow. “You think I’m . . . what? Tarnished? A slut? Because after some of the things I heard Mike say about your reputation today, that would be pretty freaking rich coming from you.”

“I hardly expected you to live like a nun,” he growled, making a cutting motion with his hand as he stepped closer. “I left. You had every right to sleep with whatever guys you wanted. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill them.”

“Then I’ll be sure to keep the names to myself,” she offered with a quiet snort.

Something hard and male flashed in his eyes, his voice little more than a throaty whisper. “I could always fuck them out of you, Lil.”

Her pulse quickened. “You can certainly try.”

“Maybe I will,” he said, undoing the top button on his jeans.

Lily bit her lip, stunned by how freaking sexy he looked standing there glowering at her, his muscles bunched beneath his golden skin, his abs rippling as he came another step closer . . . and then another. His jeans were hanging even lower on his hips, the soft denim pulled taut by the massive erection it was trying to contain. He was right at the foot of the bed now, but she held out her hands, stopping him from coming any closer. “Wait!”

He’d started to undo the next button on his jeans, but his fingers stilled, his dark gaze locked hard on hers, waiting for her to speak.

Bracing herself for his answer, she asked, “Are you here because of Mike?”

His head jerked back, his straight brows drawn together in confusion. “What? Why the hell would you ask me that?”

“Because you were jealous,” she said daringly, searching his expression. “Is that why you’re here? Are you trying to rub it in his face that we’re together? To prove a point?”

He took a few hard, deep breaths, keeping her locked in his glittering stare. Then he growled, “I’m here because I couldn’t stay away. I don’t give a fuck about Mike. I just give a fuck about you.”

“Good. Then get rid of those jeans,” she said breathlessly, eyeing him hungrily as she moved her legs out from under her and whipped her tank off over her head.

He did just that, and the sight damn near stopped her heart. He swiftly shoved his jeans down, kicking them away, then turned to face her. With his hands fisted at his sides, he let her get a good long look. And, God, did she look. His erection sprang up against his ridged abs, hard and brutal and beautiful, with black hair curling at the base and two heavy testicles hanging low that were in perfect proportion to the rest of him.

It took her a moment to get her tongue working, but she finally managed to say, “Holy hell, you’re gorgeous.”

He immediately scowled. “Christ, Lily. You don’t have to lie.”

She shot him a stunned look. “You think I’m lying?”

“I’m no fucking oil painting,” he muttered, working his jaw. “I’m scarred inside and out.”

“You think I care about your scars? I hate that you were hurt, but they don’t change how I see you.”

He grunted, obviously deciding he was done talking. He crawled onto the foot of the bed, yanked her ankles between his knees and reached for her panties, ripping them down her legs and tossing them over the side of the bed. Then he ran his big hands down the insides of her trembling thighs, curved them around her knees, and shoved her legs apart, holding them that way as he knelt between them. And after that he just stopped . . . and stared, his chest rising and falling with the jagged rhythm of his breaths.

Resting back on her elbows, her face flushed with embarrassment to be so exposed, she finally asked, “What are you doing?”

He didn’t bother looking up as he answered the question, his heavy-lidded gaze fastened on the glistening pink folds of her sex. “I didn’t take the time to get a good long look at your pussy at the motel,” he said tightly. “Been regretting that ever since.”

She swallowed, her face burning even hotter as she felt her body respond to his sexy admission with a warm rush of moisture. She was swelling and softening like a ripe piece of fruit, her insides aching and empty, desperate for him to get on with it and take her. “Oh, God, hurry. Please. I can’t wait.”

“I know, baby. I’m desperate, too. But I have to get you ready.” He let go of one of her knees and slipped two fingers through her drenched slit, separating the puffy folds, then swirled the callused tips of his fingers around her clit.

“Now,” she snapped, falling to her back. “I mean it, Scott. I need you now!”

A low, gritty laugh rumbled in his chest as he came down over her, working those two big fingers into her opening. He gave a hard, wet suck to each of her nipples, then lifted higher. “Go on, Lil. Screech at me some more,” he whispered in her ear, nipping at the lobe. “Tell me you want me to fuck your tight little pussy.”

“I do,” she moaned, running her hands down his sleek, muscular back. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Say it.” He licked the side of her throat, pumping his fingers into her, then rubbing the moisture on them around her opening. “Say it exactly how I said it.”

She writhed, wanting him inside her so badly she was ready to scream. “Fine! I want you to fuck my tight little pussy. Now, damn it!”

He gave another one of those low, sexy laughs, and the instant she felt his broad, hot cockhead touching her vulva, her hips jerked up to take him in. But he held himself back, not letting her have it. “Do I need a condom?” he whispered in her ear, bracing himself on his elbows.

“What?”

“I’m clean. I get checked regularly, and I always, always use latex. But you said you were on the Pill. So I’m asking if you want me to wear a condom.”

“No. No condom. I want to feel you inside me, skin on skin. Every hard, thick inch of you.”