Sweet Surrender

Sweet Surrender By Anna Leigh Keaton

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Sweet Surrender Copyright© 2008 Anna Leigh Keaton ISBN: 978-1-60088-253-1 Cover Artist: Sable Grey Editor: Barbara Louise All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Cobblestone Press, LLC www.cobblestone-press.com

Chapter One Celeste Kolowski sat in the bar and grill, watching the mating rituals of the young and horny. It wasn’t the patrons putting on the show, but two of the wait staff. Their display of preening, flirting, and those not-so-subtle body brushes that would eventually lead to two young people getting it on after the bar closed was rather amazing to watch. In a few hours, they’d be writhing, sweaty body against sweaty body beneath tangled sheets. She remembered what it had been like—once upon a time. Young lust, when hormones ran wild and nothing seemed as important as the slightest touch from a man who made her blood sizzle. When she couldn’t wait for her lover to sink into her creamy heat and take her on a journey of screaming orgasms and discovery of new and delightful sexual positions that would drum him deep into her core. Sighing, she propped her chin on her fist, pulling her attention from the young couple in heat to focus on the door. Sarah should show up soon. They met every first and third Thursday of the month for supper, always right here, and they always ate the same things. Chef salad with a light Italian dressing for Celeste; grilled chicken for Sarah. Lord, life had become...boring. Celeste’s gaze drifted back to the flirtatious couple as they giggled behind the bar. She bumped his arm with hers; he winked and whispered something that made her turn away with an embarrassed grin. What good was watching young lust on the move? The only raging hormones she’d experienced lately induced hot flashes and mood swings that made her two pregnancies over two decades ago look like a day at the circus. Her cell phone rang. She snatched her purse from the seat next to her and pulled out the phone. The caller ID said it was Sarah. ‚Let me guess. You’re running late,‛ Celeste said in greeting.

‚Celee. Oh, God. I’m sorry. I can’t meet you tonight. Josh called. His wife’s in labor, and they want me there.‛ Celeste smiled. Sarah’s first grandchild was on the way. ‚I think dinner can be postponed for a baby. Call me and tell me if it’s a boy or girl.‛ ‚I will. We’ll do dinner next week, okay?‛ ‚Don’t worry about it,‛ she said, her smile growing. Sarah had the biggest heart of anyone Celeste knew. To worry about missing a dinner date when her daughter-inlaw was in labor. ‚Give Joshy a hug for me.‛ ‚Thanks, Celee.‛ Sarah disconnected the call, and Celeste dropped the phone back in her purse. She sighed, and the smile slipped from her lips. Another night alone. She picked up her margarita and sipped, wondering if she should still order dinner or not. She wasn’t really hungry because she’d gotten lunch late at work that afternoon. Licking a bit of the salt from the rim of her glass, she took another swallow. Her gaze meandered back to the two bar employees and their flirtations. It had been so long since she... Why the heck was she thinking about that now? Eight years. Eight long, empty years since her good-for-nothing husband left her for a girl barely older than their daughters. In that time, she’d become an expert of quick, self-induced orgasms. From grabbing the vibrator she kept in the nightstand to curling up around her pillow, she had it down to ten minutes flat. But sometimes she’d give anything to curl up against a warm, living, breathing body after that orgasm. The bartender grabbed the waitress’ butt, and the girl’s eyes flared with heat. Oh, yeah. They’d be getting it on after work—if they lasted that long. If Celeste were that young woman, she’d probably drag the stud to the back and jump his bones. She rubbed the back of her neck and switched her attention to the men sitting at the bar. One she recognized. Well, she’d seen him at the hospital. Being an ER nurse in a small town, it seemed she’d seen everyone at least once in the fifteen years she’d worked there. Sitting by himself at the end of the bar was someone she didn’t recognize. He was distinguished-looking in a tailored suit, his shoes were Italian, and he had a light sprinkling of gray at his temples. She’d put him in his late forties or early fifties. Hmm. The waitress came to the table. ‚Are you ready to order, or are you still waiting for your friend?‛ Celeste cast a quick glance toward the man at the bar. His profile was...not exactly handsome, but he wasn’t cockroach ugly. She licked her lips and looked up at the waitress. ‚I’d like to buy the man in the black suit at the bar a drink. Please take him another of whatever he’s drinking, and let him know it’s from me.‛ The waitress grinned. ‚Sure. Anything else?‛

A little thrill flared through her at her courage. Maybe it was nothing, but she’d never had the guts to do something like that before. ‚Not yet. But we’ll see.‛ ***** Detective Paul Jensen walked into his apartment, kicked the door shut, and shrugged out of his leather bomber jacket. As he made his way to the bedroom, he pulled his handgun holster from his belt and unbuttoned his shirt. A jaw-popping yawn made his eyes water, and he yanked open the buttons on his Levi’s as he sat on the edge of his bed. His police issue Glock 9mm went on the nightstand, and he pulled off his cowboy boots. He ripped open the Velcro and removed his backup piece and ankle holster. Then he flopped back on the bed and closed his eyes as another yawn overtook him. What a day. He’d been on the move since four that morning when he got a call about a shooting in an upscale part of town. Now it was after nine at night, and he was done. Well done. He needed a shower and some food, but moving seemed beyond his ability at the moment. The cell phone in his front pocket vibrated. He considered not answering, but he had to. They had a guy in custody for the murder, but he and his partner, Liam Taggart, didn’t believe he was the right guy. He pulled it out and flipped it open. ‚Jensen.‛ ‚Hey, bro,‛ his sister, Beth, said in her too-cheerful voice that made him grind his teeth. ‚So, what’s up? I heard there was a murder at Baker Estates.‛ ‚You know I’m not at liberty to say.‛ He stood up, shrugged out of his shirt, shoved his jeans down his legs, and stepped out of them on his way to the kitchen. ‚Aww, come on, Paulie. Give me a nibble.‛ Jerking open the freezer, he said, ‚And lose my job because I gave the Cooper Valley Chronicle’s ace reporter information? Not likely.‛ He grabbed a TV dinner and ripped open the box while cradling the phone between ear and shoulder. ‚I didn’t see you at the scene. Were you off scooping the big sheep shearing contest at Hillory’s?‛ His sister blew a raspberry. ‚For your information, I was in Chicago all day interviewing for a position with WGN.‛ He paused in the process of punching in the time on the microwave. ‚You were what? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?‛ She sighed, but when she spoke, the excitement in her voice was more than apparent. ‚Because I didn’t want to jinx it. But I think I did great on the interview, so cross your fingers for me, okay, bro?‛ He hit the Start button and leaned back against the counter. ‚Of course, baby girl.‛ His little sister was growing up, spreading her wings. ‚Does Mom know?‛

‚No. I didn’t want to tell her unless I get it. She’ll be really upset if I move. And if I have to tell her, I need you there as a buffer.‛ He chuckled. ‚She’s gonna cry. She’s gonna ask you how you could do this to her.‛ ‚I know. But if her favorite is there, she won’t be so upset. We all know you’re not going anywhere.‛ ‚Nope. I’m not. I happen to like Cooper Valley.‛ But his baby sister was destined for something bigger. He’d always known that. The microwave beeped. ‚I love you, sis, but it’s been a bitch of a day. I’m starving and exhausted.‛ ‚I can take a hint. Love you, bro. We’re still on for supper tomorrow night with Mom?‛ ‚Yeah. Pick me up at seven. Your turn to drive.‛ She laughed. ‚Gotcha. See ya then.‛ She made kissy sounds before she disconnected the call. Paul laid the phone on the counter and pulled his Salisbury steak from the microwave. After grabbing a fork, he plopped down on the couch and dug in. Just as he reached for the television remote, he heard Celeste’s door open and close downstairs. He glanced at his watch, then at the calendar hanging on the wall. Ahh. Only two times a month she ever stayed out past seven. He always wondered where she went on those Thursday nights. After carefully setting his plastic dinner container on the coffee table, he went to the air vent on the floor in the corner and flipped it open. He wasn’t exactly a peeping tom, but he liked listening to her move around her apartment. She played soft music in the evenings that helped him relax. And when she baked, the scents came up through the vent and made his mouth water. ‚Home sweet home,‛ Celeste said, and he smiled as he went back to the couch and picked up his food. Sometimes she talked to herself, too, and he found it sweet and quirky. ‚I suppose it’s not what you’re used to.‛ ‚It’s very...homey.‛ The fork stopped halfway to his mouth. A man? In the five years she’d lived below him, he’d never heard a man in her apartment. A little spike of jealousy went through him before he squashed it. He had no rights over Celeste. In fact, she was never anything but polite. It was her daughters who shamelessly flirted with him when he happened to be coming or going at the same time they were. ‚I’ve been here five years,‛ Celeste said. ‚I’ve thought about buying a little house out on the lake, but I’m so close to the hospital here, I walk to work most days.‛ He hoped she didn’t move. He’d miss her. ‚I know an agent. I can give you her name, if you like,‛ the man said.

Paul sneered and finished off his food. I know an agent. The guy sounded like a douche bag. ‚Yeah? I’d like that,‛ Celeste said. ‚Thanks.‛ She had such a low, seductive voice. Like pure sex. He wanted to wring the guy’s neck just because he was in her apartment. ‚Have a seat,‛ she said, ‚and I’ll throw on a pot of coffee.‛ Paul pushed to his feet and went to the kitchen. He tossed his fork into the sink. The plastic container he rinsed out and threw in the recycle bag. As he opened the fridge to grab a beer, he heard Celeste yelp. ‚I didn’t hear you behind me,‛ she said. ‚The coffee’ll be done in a few minutes.‛ ‚Did you honestly invite me over for coffee, Celeste?‛ Silence. ‚I didn’t think so.‛ Jesus Christ. Paul headed back to shut the vent. He might take an obscene amount of pleasure listening to her—sometimes even hearing her masturbate late at night—but there was no fucking way he wanted to hear her get it on with some schmuck. ‚Wait,‛ she said, and Paul paused, fingers over the vent lever. ‚Come on,‛ the guy said. ‚I know why you picked me up. We both want the same thing. Let’s not play games.‛ Paul’s disgust kicked up a couple notches. Asshole. ‚No. No,‛ she said. ‚I think I made a mistake. I’m not ready—‛ Her words muffled into nothingness. His muscles tensed. Was she playing hard to get or... He got down on his knees and put his ear to the vent. He heard heavy breathing. The man’s. ‚Don’t.‛ Celeste’s voice was firm, demanding. Paul clenched his teeth. ‚Don’t fucking play games with me, bitch.‛ Before the fucker finished the sentence, Paul was on his feet and out the door. As he leaped down the stairs three at a time, he heard Celeste scream, ‚Get off me!‛ and his heart nearly stalled. He grabbed the knob to Celeste’s apartment, relieved to find it unlocked, and shoved the door open.

Chapter Two ‚Get off me!‛ Celeste brought up her knee as hard as she could when Zane grabbed the front of her blouse and ripped it open. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and he fell to his knees with a strangled sound and widened eyes. He hit the floor hard, curled up like a baby, and cradled his bruised testicles in his hands. Then she screamed and grabbed the fry pan off the back burner of the stove when the front door burst open. About to hurl it across the room at the man who rushed through the door, she stopped short when she realized it was her upstairs neighbor, Detective Paul Jensen. And he was...in a pair of leopard-print briefs and white tube socks. ‚Where’s the bastard?‛ Paul demanded. That was when she saw the way his dark eyes glittered like onyx, full of menace. And his muscles—all six-foot-four of them—were bunched with fury. ‚Where is he?‛ His voice was as cold and hard as ice. She glanced down at Zane whose face was as pale as rice paper. Lowering the fry pan to the counter, she pointed. ‚On the floor.‛ Paul came toward her and looked down when he rounded the breakfast bar. When he raised his eyes, he asked, ‚Permanent damage or just temporary?‛ She shrugged. ‚Probably temporary.‛ Her gaze fell from Paul’s eyes to his gorgeous chest and the whorls of silky-looking hair over his well-formed pecs. ‚Give me your phone.‛ She jerked her eyes back to his. ‚Excuse me?‛ ‚I’m arresting the asshole. I need to call it in.‛ His voice was harder than she’d ever heard it. His whole demeanor was. She wondered if he even realized he was almost naked. Stepping over Zane, she had to brush past Paul to get the phone from the end table in the living room. He smelled of musk and a subtle cologne that always triggered her arousal. Jeez, Celee, get a grip. You were almost raped.

At the thought, her stomach turned, and she sucked in a deep breath as she lifted the phone from its charging base. Her hand shook. She almost dropped the phone. Oh, Lord. She was almost raped. ‚Don’t fucking move,‛ Paul said, and she whirled around to see Zane trying to get up. ‚You have the right to remain silent...‛ Paul hauled her attacker to his feet and leaned him over the counter as he continued to Mirandize him. Celeste looked down and cringed as she gathered the tattered edges of her blouse together to cover herself. She took the phone back to the kitchen, set it down, and stared at Zane’s still pale face as Paul pressed it into the countertop. Anger. Fury. Disgust. Humiliation. The emotions tumbled through her, making her want to throw up. ‚Celeste. Celeste.‛ She looked into Paul’s dark eyes and realized he’d been calling her name for a while. ‚Why don’t you go change? Maybe take a shower. I’ll take care of things from here.‛ All she could do was nod. Her stomach clenched, and she turned away, rushing for the bathroom where she locked herself in and sank down on the edge of the tub, hanging her head over the toilet. Her forehead popped out in sweat, while a chill raced through her, bringing up goose bumps. She’d almost been raped. Raped. Raped. She swiped a shaky hand over her face. This was the stupidest thing she’d ever done. ***** ‚I’ll finish the rest of the paperwork in the morning.‛ Paul handed over the report he’d just written to Cal, one of the deputies who’d shown up because of the call he’d put in. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders against the frigid wind. Cal grinned. ‚Make sure Ms. Kolowski stops by the station and files an official report.‛ Paul nodded. He’d broken protocol by not having her answer the questions tonight, but being that a detective was witness to the crime, he and Cal decided she didn’t need to be bothered. Besides that, from the look on her face, she needed a little time to regroup. ‚You know you’re in for a ribbing, don’t you?‛ Paul rolled his eyes. As the only two detectives on the CVPD, he and Tagg took a lot of shit. Having every deputy on duty show up and find him in his skivvies... He sighed. ‚I’ve lived through worse.‛ Though at the moment, he couldn’t think of anything worse. He’d managed to throw on a pair of jeans, running shoes, and his

jacket once Cal took the would-be rapist into custody, but that was it. ‚I’ll see ya tomorrow,‛ he said and headed up the steps to the front door. ‚Later.‛ The warmth of the hallway enveloped him as he went up the few steps to Celeste’s apartment and knocked, but there was no answer. He turned the doorknob, and when he opened the door, he heard the shower still in use. She’d been in there for over a half hour. He stood just inside the door, wondering what he should do. He hated her being alone right now, but she was such an independent woman. Would she take offense to him hanging around to see if she was okay? He’d fix her something warm to drink and make sure she was calm and not in shock before he went up to his apartment. After searching most of her kitchen cupboards, he found a can of hot chocolate mix. She had to be the first woman he’d ever known who didn’t have some kind of herbal, flowery tea. She had five different flavors of instant coffee, but he didn’t think caffeine was something she needed right now. Just as he took the cup of steaming chocolate from the microwave, the bathroom door opened and Celeste, wrapped in a fluffy, pink robe, her shoulder-length blonde hair combed straight back, stepped into the living room. ‚You’re still here?‛ He nodded. There was no sign she’d been crying. Her eyes weren’t red, nor was her nose. Her skin had a healthy pink glow, probably from the hot shower. For having been manhandled, she didn’t look too much the worse for wear. But she was so tiny— she couldn’t be over five-three. The robe was belted at her waist, accentuating her lush, womanly curves. ‚I made you some hot chocolate,‛ he said as he carried the mug to her. Eyeing his open bomber jacket, she took the cup from him. ‚Thank you.‛ She sipped then licked her lips, her pink tongue sliding along her lower lip in a seductive motion that made him hotter than hell. He sucked in a breath but realized his mistake when the warm scent of roses inundated his senses. She always smelled good, but this just-out-of-the-shower aroma was enough to make his mouth water. Get your fucking head out of the gutter, Jensen. The woman has just been traumatized. The last thing on her brain is turning you on. Besides, he’d lived above her for five years. If she’d ever been interested in him, he would’ve clued in by now. She wasn’t. She was never anything but polite. Celeste took another sip from the mug, her gaze steady over the rim, then she turned to go to the sofa. Paul didn’t know what to do. She seemed fine. He should leave. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to... Well, he couldn’t do what he wanted to do, but he’d never been in her apartment before, had never seen her in a bathrobe. He wondered if she were really so calm and collected, or if it was a mask. He’d dealt with a whole lot of

women who’d just been attacked, but not a single one of them had ever looked so...unfazed. She sat on one end of the sofa, tucked her legs beneath her, and cradled the warm mug between her hands. As if reading his thoughts, she raised an eyebrow at him. ‚If you’re afraid I’m going to fall apart, you have nothing to worry about.‛ He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and grinned as he sauntered over to the other end of the couch. ‚That’s good to know.‛ He sat down and watched her face for any sign that he made her uncomfortable with his nearness. Delayed reaction to having a man in close quarters. Not even an eyelid flicker. But her gaze did zero back in on his chest where his jacket gapped open. He supposed he could have put on a shirt before coming back to her apartment, but he’d been in a hurry to get that asshole away from her. She licked her lips again, and his cock twitched. Damn, she was sexy when she did that. He should go. Obviously, she was fine. ‚Why do you keep staring at me?‛ She set the hot chocolate on the end table then folded her hands together in her lap. It was something else he’d always found so attractive about her. She was...ladylike. In everything she did. Even wearing her hospital scrubs—which was what he normally saw her in—she carried herself just so. He’d never heard her cuss, never heard her raise her voice. She cleared her throat, and he realized he’d been staring at the creamy length of her neck. Jerking his gaze up to hers, he covered with, ‚I was wondering if he hurt you when he ripped your blouse.‛ ‚I’m fine.‛ Beautiful is what she was. Her eyes were as blue and clear as tropical waters. ‚Do you want to talk about it?‛ Her long lashes swept down as she blinked in slow motion. A slight tinge of pink colored her cheeks, but she recovered quickly. ‚It was a momentary lapse in judgment that should have never happened. Thank you for coming to my rescue.‛ A smile tugged at his lips. ‚You had things under control rather well by the time I got here.‛ She didn’t smile. Didn’t show much of any reaction, except a slight twist to her upper lip—a look of disgust. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he turned sideways to face her better. ‚Celeste, you did good. I’m pretty sure that even if I hadn’t come in, he was in no shape to continue. You caused some serious damage.‛ She looked into his eyes for a long moment before she turned her head and stared off across the room. ‚I invited him here to have sex. He expected it. I’m the one who changed up the rules.‛ She shrugged. ‚Part of me can’t blame him for getting angry.‛

‚Whoa. Hold on now.‛ He reached over and touched her chin. She turned to look at him, and he said, ‚You of all people know that it is not your fault. It is never the woman’s fault. You’re perfectly allowed to change your mind.‛ ‚Me of all people?‛ She frowned. ‚What’s that mean?‛ He sighed and took her hand in his, unable to not touch her. She was so petite, so tiny. When he thought of that asshole manhandling her, he saw red. Her hands were soft, her nails trimmed short and neat. He skimmed his thumb over her knuckles, noting that she wore no jewelry. ‚You deal with rape victims in the ER. What do you tell them?‛ She sighed and tugged her hand from him. ‚I wasn’t raped. And I learned a lesson.‛ He narrowed his eyes. ‚What lesson?‛ Sounded to him as though she were blaming herself. Maybe she wasn’t as put together as she wanted him to think. ‚I’m too old to get laid.‛ With that pronouncement, she stood up, picked up her mug, and moved into the kitchen. ‚Wait a second.‛ He shoved up off the couch and followed her. ‚What exactly do you mean by that?‛ She was a vibrant woman, and he’d wanted to have sex with her for the last five years. Sure, she was a little older than him, but damn, she was fucking hot. After setting her cup in the sink, she tugged her lapels closer together and crossed her arms over her chest. She met his gaze straight on when she said, ‚It’s been eight years since my husband of twenty years left me for a girl barely older than our daughters. Sometimes I get lonely. I thought I could just have some casual sex and a little companionship for a night. But once he was here, this...this stranger, I couldn’t do it.‛ Paul’s heart melted. Completely. A puddle in his chest. But he didn’t expect the words that came out of his mouth. ‚If that’s what you wanted, you could have come upstairs anytime.‛ Celeste’s mouth dropped open, but then she snapped it shut so fast her teeth clicked. ‚Excuse me?‛ Open mouth. Insert foot. Well, now that he’d started it, he might as well finish it. ‚I’ve thought about you. I’ve thought about having sex with you. A lot.‛ ‚Oh, for crying out—‛ She shook her head. ‚You have young, gorgeous women in and out of your place constantly. As if you’d sit around thinking about your much older neighbor in a romantic way.‛ He did think about her in a romantic way. Constantly. And... He scowled. ‚I haven’t had a woman in my apartment in several months.‛ She tipped her head to the side, and the smile she gave was fake and...condescending. ‚Come on now, Paul. These apartments aren’t exactly soundproof. I know you have a healthy sex life.‛ ‚And because of the lack of soundproofing, I know you fly solo way too often.‛

Chapter Three Celeste’s face went hot. He’d heard her... Oh, Lord. She would not let him know how embarrassed she was. ‚What are you, some kind of pervert?‛ His left eyebrow rose in censure. He had a point. She’d said she heard him with women. There was no way she’d ever admit to getting turned on when she listened. Sometimes using her vibrator to finish right along with them. Wishing she were that woman under him—over him—getting taken hard and fast from behind. She’d spent hour upon hour fantasizing what Paul would be like in bed. Which was just one more reason to never, ever go there. No way in hell he’d ever live up to her dreams. ‚You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?‛ he asked, stepping closer. She shook her head in denial, but breathing became difficult. Her pussy throbbed, and her gaze dropped to that sexy chest and abdomen. Why hadn’t the man put on a shirt? ‚Yes, you are. Did it turn you on to listen to me have sex? Every time I hear your drawer open and the soft buzz of your toy, I get hard as a rock.‛ She really needed to oil that nightstand drawer. It made a horrible screech when opened. He stepped up close enough that his musky scent, mixed with the subtle scent of aged leather from his jacket, engulfed her. Her eyelids fluttered as she breathed in with appreciation. The man took care of himself. He was always clean, smelled like sin. And he wore snug, faded jeans that cupped everything just so and made her want to grab him and...take a bite. She licked her lips as she watched his rippled abs. She wanted to know what they felt like. So vibrantly alive. She looked up into his dark eyes. The only men she touched were in the ER. Injured, sick... Paul was... Her eyelids fluttered as he stepped even closer, until his chest was right there, and she had to tip her head way back to see into his face. ‚You have thought about it, haven’t you, Celeste?‛

She nodded. Why deny it? He’d know she was lying anyway. A small, sexy grin spread over his face, making his eyes sparkle. He leaned forward, and she held her breath, waiting for him to kiss her. Instead, his cheek brushed hers, and his lips tickled her ear when he said, ‚I’ve thought of coming down here and helping you out some nights.‛ She shivered, his warm breath tickling. ‚I’ve thought of taking that damn vibrator out of your hand and replacing it with my mouth, my tongue.‛ His tongue flicked out and traced the shell of her ear, yet he touched her nowhere else. She bit her lip to keep in a whimper. Her nipples tightened and ached. Her pussy clenched and heated as arousal spiked through her. He raised his hands, and she expected him to haul her up against him. Instead, he cupped her cheek with one and the back of her head with the other. So gentle. So...sweet. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. Still touching her cheek with one, his other hand came down to her neck. His skin was just the tiniest bit rough. It felt good. Too good. ‚You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Inside and out. I’ve wanted to be with you since the day you moved in and refused my help. You were so stubborn.‛ He grinned. ‚Box after box after box I watched you haul in from your car, but when I tried taking one from you, you almost bit my head off.‛ She dropped her gaze to his chest. She’d been embarrassed then that she found him so attractive. A guy who was at least a decade younger than her. She’d just wanted him to go away and stay away. She’d still been hurting so bad. He was still too young. ‚I’m almost forty-seven years old.‛ His smile was soft and sweet. ‚What’s your point?‛ She knew she should pull away, but his hands were so warm. Being touched was just too nice. It had been so long. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. ‚The point is, there is no point behind this. You should find one of your cute young women and have some fun.‛ Lord, the words hurt to say. She pulled away and brushed passed him, getting out from between him and the counter. She went back to the couch and curled into the corner. ‚I think you should go. Now.‛ As she stared at her hands folded in her lap, his thighs came into view as he stood over her. Thick, beautiful thighs she’d seen last summer in a pair of shorts, and she’d thought about licking them. She looked up a bit, and there was no mistaking the thick ridge trapped in his jeans. Good Lord, he was long. Her pussy pulsed as if begging. Please, please, please, Celee. Let me have him.

He went down on his knees in front of her. She wanted to touch his chest, dig her fingers into his pecs, learn if those whorls of hair were as silky soft as they looked. Instead, she fisted her hands and looked into his eyes. Mistake. She could drown there. They were as black as night, as deep as the ocean. ‚One kiss,‛ he said, his voice little more than a whisper. ‚Let me have one kiss, and if you still want me to go, I will, and we can forget all about this.‛ She wasn’t going to forget. Tonight’s encounter with Paul would fuel her fantasies for months—possibly years—to come. What more harm could one kiss do? She’d always wondered what he’d taste like, since he smelled like heaven. Wetting her lips with her tongue, she nodded. ‚One kiss.‛ His eyes focused on her mouth, and her nipples tingled. She wanted more than a kiss. She wanted to feel that thick, long cock inside her. She wanted to know how he made love. Fast and hard, or gentle and thorough? Did he know how to use those big hands? Was he even one-tenth as skilled as she’d made him in her mind? She waited for him to lean in, to take the kiss. Instead, he pulled her legs from beneath her and set her feet on the floor, straddling his knees. She grabbed the edges of the robe and held it together. She had nothing on beneath, and Lord knew she couldn’t let him know just how turned on she was. He grinned and adjusted the robe over her knees. ‚So prim and proper.‛ He winked when he looked up. ‚It’s a real turn-on for me.‛ No wonder he had as many women as he did. He was a charmer. She’d known that from the first, of course. But never had he focused on her this much. They usually passed each other in the hall, or grabbed a cup of coffee in the cafeteria if he had to be at the hospital for some reason. He was always friendly, but she’d kept her distance because she was too attracted to him. He laid his hands on her thighs, and she gritted her teeth to keep from moaning as her pelvic muscles clenched in response. ‚Ready?‛ His black eyes bored into her soul. She’d never been more ready. With a nod, she leaned forward. He moved in toward her. She expected he’d grab her, capture her mouth in a hard kiss, thrust his tongue into her mouth. She braced for it. A strangled sound escaped her when his soft lips brushed ever so lightly against hers. Heat rushed through her body. Her nipples beaded so hard they hurt, and her pussy grew warm and damp. He repeated the soft caress, and her breath whooshed out of her. This was nothing like she expected. It was so much better. He was so... Tipping his head to the side, he seated his lips with hers, creating just the tiniest bit of suction. Her eyes drifted closed, and she raised her hands to his shoulders. His jacket was supple and smooth.

Paul broke contact between their mouths and raised his head. ‚God, Celeste. You’re so sweet.‛ The breath seemed to stutter out of her lungs as she opened her eyes. His gaze was so steady, so filled with heat and promise. She licked her lips, tasting him. She traced his collar to the zipper of his jacket, held onto the lapels for a second, then laid her palms flat against his chest. He sucked in a quick breath as she spread her fingers wide and ran them down over his gorgeous pecs. His nipples hardened when she brushed over them. She looked him in the eye as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders. Without a word, he shrugged out of it, letting it fall behind him. Her mouth watered. She’d seen him shirtless before tonight. In the summer, he jogged in the mornings. He’d come in sweaty, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and running shoes. But up close, so close she could touch him, run her hands over those wide shoulders, his sculpted biceps, that amazing stomach, he was beyond perfection. ‚Celeste...‛ he said on a breath as she let her fingers follow the thin happy trail of hair from his naval down to the button of his low-rider jeans. She was warm all over. A little dizzy. She had to stop. Send him home. When he returned his hands to her thighs, they went beneath her robe. His palms were hot. She glanced down to see the terrycloth opened from the belt down. With her legs open, he had a view of her pelvis and mound. Oh, Lord. She jerked her hands from his waistband and pulled the robe together as she pushed his hands away. ‚No.‛ He was so beautiful. So young. So...so perfect. She was a middle-aged mother of two adult children. She had rolls where he was used to lithe, toned bodies. Cellulite where his women were smooth and sleek. ‚Celeste. Hey. I’m sorry.‛ She looked up into his face to see his brow furrowed, his eyes filled with worry. ‚I’m sorry,‛ he said again. ‚It’s too soon after... Shit.‛ He sat back on his heels and swiped his hand down his face. ‚I’m such a fucking idiot. Are you okay?‛ He thought it was because of Zane. She shook her head. ‚It’s not that.‛ She slumped against the armrest. ‚Paul. Go home. You don’t want to be here with me.‛ She covered her face with her hand as mortification swamped her. She had no right wanting him so much. His fingers closed around her wrist and pulled it away from her face. ‚What the hell? Why are you freaking out if it’s not because of what happened earlier? And if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.‛ She huffed a breath. ‚I’m old and fat, and...and you’re young and gorgeous. So leave me alone before I do something stupid.‛ ‚What would you do that’s stupid?‛ She clenched her teeth.

‚Tell me,‛ he demanded. ‚What do you want to do that’s stupid? And you are far from fat or old.‛ He seemed so sincere. Twisting her arm until he released her, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him against her as she leaned back into the sofa. When he landed against her, she speared her fingers through his cool, silky hair and planted her mouth against his. His body was so big, so hard, and felt so wonderful pressed against her. He wasn’t a child. If he wanted to get it on, why did she fight it? Maybe he needed to get off as badly as she did. When he tipped his head to the side and opened his lips over hers, she touched her tongue to his. That simple motion seemed to spur him on. He wrapped both arms around her, pulled her tight against him, and swept his tongue into her mouth. She moaned and clung to him. The skin of his back was warm and smooth. His scent surrounded her. He kissed her with skill, never overwhelming her. His tongue danced and dueled with hers, teased and flicked. He nipped at her bottom lip then soothed the bite with that tender suction. When she needed breath, she leaned her head back and gasped. He never stopped, though, as he trailed kisses and nibbles along the line of her jaw, to her ear, down her neck. Tingles raced ahead of his nips, making her moan and dig her nails into his shoulders. Paul grunted and slid one hand up the outside of her thigh, under the robe. His slightly callused palms made lightning arc through her. When he cupped her butt and squeezed, she knew she needed him. Eight long, lonely years. And above all, Paul was safe. She knew him. He was a decorated police detective. He’d just saved her from an attacker. She reached for the button on his jeans, but he pulled back slightly with a shake of his head. ‚Not yet, baby.‛ Baby. Good Lord, no one had called her that since...since forever. She ran her fingers over his rippling abs. He was too good looking and, after tonight, wouldn’t ever want to lay eyes on her again. But right now, none of that seemed to matter. All she knew was if she didn’t get a climax soon, she’d burst. And for once, a man would give it to her. Please, let him be good. He leaned forward again and kissed her as his other hand slid up under the robe. With both of her butt cheeks in his palms, he pulled her to the edge of the cushion. Then he brought one hand around and spread her legs wider. As his tongue sank into her mouth in a slow, sexy stroke, he lightly tugged on her pubic hair. He swallowed her soft cry of surprise at the intense sensations that shot through her. It felt nothing like when she touched herself. She tingled and ached and throbbed

and...and she couldn’t breathe. Tearing her mouth from his before she suffocated, she threw her head back and lifted her pussy against his fingers. ‚Need more, baby?‛ he whispered in her ear the instant before he took her lobe between his teeth. She whimpered and nodded, clinging to his shoulders. After tonight, she’d avoid him forever. She would pretend to not even know him. It would be best for both of them because she was positive he’d be embarrassed about what he did with the old lady downstairs. But right now, she wanted him to make her come. He nipped his way down her neck to the V opening of her robe. When he tried pulling it open, she grabbed the lapels and shook her head. ‚No,‛ she said as she panted. No way was he going to see her sagging breasts. ‚Don’t do that. Just...‛ She lifted her hips slightly. ‚Down there. Just do it. Please.‛ He frowned at her. She licked her parched lips. ‚Please, Paul.‛ ‚Okay, babe.‛ He brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. ‚Okay.‛ She yelped when he moved so fast. Before she could even think to protest, his face was buried in her pussy, and he lifted her legs over his shoulders. Oh, Lord. Oh, Lord. His tongue was so smooth as it stroked her, flicked her clit, tormented her. ‚Paul!‛ she cried as the orgasm grew deep in her core. And then his long fingers thrust into her with steady pressure, finding her G-spot without error. He suckled her clit between his lips, and she moaned. Pleasure crested and broke, sending bright lights flashing behind her eyes, and her muscles clenched around his fingers. He stroked inside her with those talented fingers as he suckled her clit, keeping the electric-like pulses shooting through her, making her quiver as she tried to breathe, tried to think. And then she came again, every muscle in her body tightening while her fingers and toes tingled, and her pussy pulsed and creamed around his fingers. Yes. Yes. This is what I needed. She sank, limp-limbed, into the sofa cushions, panting, dizzy. Paul slowly withdrew his fingers from inside her, but petted her pussy as if it were a kitten. He sat back on his heels and rested his cheek against her inner thigh, his five o’clock shadow tickling and extending the low-wattage electrical current buzzing through her body. She closed her eyes against the sight that made her yearn for more. More than a quick orgasm. She wanted to lead him into the bedroom and... Good Lord. She was an idiot. ‚You okay, baby?‛ She nodded and forced a smile. ‚Of course.‛ The biggest idiot ever. In nearly twenty years of marriage, she could count on one hand the number of times her husband had given her oral sex. And she’d never had an orgasm from it. Yet this man

did it as if it were an everyday occurrence. Heck, for him it might be, he was so good at it. He shifted, and she opened her eyes. He smiled at her and licked his lips as if she’d been the best thing he ever tasted. ‚I don’t suppose you have any rubbers?‛ She shook her head. He pushed to his feet, then leaned over her and brushed his lips against her cheek. ‚I’ll be right back then. Don’t move.‛ He winked, grabbed his jacket off the floor, and walked out the door. He was getting condoms. He wanted more. Panic set in, and she jumped to her feet, rushed to the door, and turned the deadbolt. She couldn’t. He’d want to see her naked. He’d expect her to be naked if he had sex with her. Especially after what he’d just done. She heard him walking around upstairs in his apartment, and then his door closing, him jogging down the stairs in the hall. Him turning the doorknob. She scrunched her eyes tight and fought the urge to let him in. ‚Celeste? Hey, baby...?‛ ‚Go home, Paul,‛ she said, keeping her voice firm. ‚I’m sorry. But you need to go home now. I...I can’t do this. With you.‛ Her entire body still shook from the amazing orgasms. She needed him so badly she ached all over. ‚Celeste. Don’t do this. Don’t... I don’t get it.‛ She knew he didn’t, and probably never would. He’d never be a middle-aged woman going through hormone surges. More like short circuits. ‚I’m sorry,‛ she said softly, but knew he’d be able to hear her. ‚I really am.‛ ‚Okay,‛ he replied, his tone just as quiet. ‚You know where to find me if you need me.‛ Her heart clenched. If she were ten years younger... ‚G’night, Celeste.‛ She bit her lip and laid her ear against the door, waiting until she heard him climb the stairs back to his apartment. ‚Goodnight,‛ she whispered, wishing she were in his arms. Wishing... What was the use in wishing? She pushed away from the door and headed for her bedroom. Wishes didn’t get her anything. If they did, she’d still be married—to a man who loved her—and she wouldn’t feel so empty inside.

Chapter Four The door buzzer woke Celeste. She frowned and rolled over, squinting at the clock. Two in the morning, and someone was outside? She pulled the covers to her chin, shut her eyes, and figured it was probably someone for Paul and they’d go away if she ignored it. It buzzed again, this time in an annoying rhythm, ending in a long one. The moron was out there holding down the button. Throwing back the covers, she grabbed her robe from the end of the bed, slipped her feet into her lambskin slippers, and headed for the door. ‚What?‛ she barked into the speaker. ‚Celee, it’s me. I’m a grandma!‛ She hit the button that would unlock the outside door and let in Sarah. ‚Come on up.‛ She stifled a yawn and opened her door. Sarah greeted her with a bear hug. ‚I’m a grandma. Can you believe it? Oh, God, Celee, he’s so precious.‛ Celeste returned the hug. ‚What’s his name, and how much does he weigh?‛ When Sarah released her, she shut the door and turned on the light. ‚Lance James. Six pounds, eight ounces.‛ She set a bottle of champagne on the counter and started to open it. ‚Get the glasses. You’ve got to have some champagne with me. I was so excited I couldn’t go home to sleep. Petra fell asleep, and Jason was dead on his feet, but I just...‛ She grinned and popped the cork. ‚I just had to share it with someone.‛ Celeste pulled two wine glasses from the cabinet. It was the best she could do. She never drank champagne at home. ‚I’m glad you did.‛ It was only a little lie. Truth be known, it had taken her forever to fall asleep, and she was dead on her feet, too. But no way would she begrudge her best friend her happiness. Sarah poured the sparkling wine then lifted her glass in salute. ‚To my new little grandson.‛ Her grin was wide, and her eyes sparkled. ‚Now it’s your turn.‛

Celeste smiled and clinked her glass against her friend’s. ‚I’d like the girls to wait until they’re married before they start procreating, thank you very much.‛ She took a couple sips of the champagne. ‚Everything went okay with the delivery then, I suppose?‛ Sarah downed her glass and poured another as she hopped up on a stool at the breakfast bar. ‚Yes. It was perfect. They didn’t even have to do an episiotomy. No stitches. Petra was made to have babies.‛ She laughed. ‚As soon as she had little Lance in her arms, she looked at Jason and asked when they could have another one.‛ ‚You were in the delivery room?‛ ‚Yes! She let me stay, and Jason even let me cut the cord. God, it was the most amazing thing...‛ She sighed and propped her chin on her fist. ‚I couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law.‛ Celeste took another sip of her champagne to hide her sadness. Sarah had a much better relationship with Jason and his wife than Celeste had with her two daughters. They were in their teens when her husband left her. Somehow, the girls got it in their heads that their dad left and married a bimbo a couple years older than them because of some fault on their mother’s part. To this day, the three of them had a strained relationship. Celeste wondered if, when they did get around to having children, they’d want her in the delivery room. She doubted it. ‚Hey,‛ Sarah said, her voice dropping in volume. ‚What’s wrong?‛ Celeste forced a smile and shook her head. ‚Nothing. I’m very happy for you and the kids.‛ Sarah’s gaze was too intense. ‚No. Something’s bothering you. What is it?‛ She sighed. She didn’t keep secrets from Sarah. They’d been best friends since high school. ‚I don’t want to bring you down off your baby high.‛ Her friend’s smile was gentle. ‚Celee. Talk to me. What’s wrong?‛ ‚I did something stupid tonight.‛ Sarah frowned. ‚Such as?‛ She slipped onto the stool next to Sarah. ‚You know how we’d been joking last time we met for dinner about getting laid? How it’s been so long for both of us?‛ ‚Uh huh.‛ ‚Well, when you canceled dinner, instead of going home like I should have, I picked up a guy at the bar.‛ Sarah’s eyes widened. ‚You what? Is he here?‛ She glanced toward the bedroom. ‚Is that what took you so long to answer the door?‛ ‚No.‛ Celeste folded her arms as the fury returned. ‚No. When we got here, I realized I couldn’t go through with it, but he didn’t want to take no for an answer.‛ ‚Oh, my God. Celeste. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?‛ Sarah grabbed her arm. ‚Did he rape you?‛ Again she shook her head. ‚No. Paul heard me yell, and he came to my rescue.‛

‚Oh.‛ Sarah sighed, loosened her grip, but didn’t let go. Instead, she ran her hand up and down Celeste’s arm in a comforting gesture. ‚You’re pretty shaken up then, aren’t you? You want me to stay with you tonight?‛ ‚No,‛ she whispered. ‚That’s not all.‛ Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‚There’s more?‛ Celeste nodded. ‚Go on.‛ ‚I almost slept with Paul.‛ ‚What? Detective Paul? The thirty-something stud-muffin? The one your kids want to get into bed?‛ Celeste nodded. ‚That would be him.‛ ‚Ohmygod. How? What? Talk, woman.‛ Sarah downed the champagne and poured yet another glass for herself. Celeste shrugged. ‚I’m not real sure how it happened. I told him how that guy wound up in my house, told him I just wanted some sex, and he told me I could have come upstairs for it.‛ Sarah’s mouth dropped open. ‚You’re shitting me.‛ ‚Nope.‛ ‚So, you said almost. You didn’t take him up on the offer?‛ She couldn’t tell Sarah what she’d allowed to happen, what she’d wanted to happen. ‚No.‛ ‚Why the hell not? I’d jump his bones in a heartbeat if he made that kind of offer. God, Celeste. He’s young, sexy as the devil himself, and that voice...‛ She fanned herself in a dramatic gesture. ‚You’re an idiot.‛ Sarah had a couple affairs in the five years since her husband’s untimely death. She was tall, willow thin, and had straight, black hair without a trace of gray in it. She was gorgeous. ‚I’m old and fat, and there’s no way in hell that man is going to see this body without clothing on it. No way in hell. He is too young and too handsome. Talk about morning-after regrets. I have visions of him running screaming from my bed at the crack of dawn when he gets a good look at the morning me.‛ ‚You are not old or fat, and I’d like nothing better than to wake up next to you in the morning.‛ Celeste almost fell off her stool at the sound of Paul’s voice echoing through her apartment. Sarah gasped. Celeste looked up toward the ceiling and narrowed her eyes at the air vent there. She hopped off the stool and moved under the vent near the wall in the living room. ‚You stop eavesdropping on me, Detective Jensen, or you’re going to find yourself in a heap of trouble.‛

He chuckled. Goose bumps popped out on her arms at the sexy sound, yet at the same time fury coursed through her. ‚Goodnight, Celeste. I’ll be thinking of you.‛ And then the vent closed with a snap. ‚Oh, shit,‛ Sarah whispered. Celeste turned and folded her arms. She wanted to stay mad. The man had no right listening to her private conversations. But... She sighed and flopped down on the couch. What she wanted was to wake up next to him. Sarah sat down next to her. Pulling Celeste into her arms, Sarah petted Celeste’s head as if she were a child. ‚It’s okay, you know,‛ Sarah whispered. ‚You’re allowed to have a fling. You’re not dead.‛ Those were the words Celeste said to Sarah almost four years ago when she felt guilty about finding a co-worker attractive only a year after her husband’s death. ‚He’s too young,‛ Celeste whispered in return. ‚If I’m going to have a fling, he has to be at least as old and flabby as I am.‛ Sarah chuckled. ‚I say do him. Get it out of your system. He’s gorgeous, and I bet he knows what he’s doing in bed. That’s the most important thing.‛ Celeste closed her eyes and relaxed against her friend’s shoulder. It wasn’t a man’s shoulder, but it was still human touch, and she craved it more than she’d realized. ‚He did a few things Thomas never did for me. And yeah, he knows how to use what God gave him. And I didn’t even get his pants open.‛ Sarah laughed. ‚You little slut.‛ Celeste found her first real smile of the night. She sighed. ‚If I was a slut, I’d be upstairs right now, begging him to do it again.‛ An easy silence fell over them, and Celeste began to really relax. ‚Do me a favor tomorrow,‛ Sarah said, her voice barely audible. ‚Hmm?‛ ‚Bake him a batch of your chocolate chip cookies. Take them to him when he gets home. And see where it goes.‛ ‚I can’t.‛ ‚Try it, honey,‛ Sarah said as she kept stroking Celeste’s head. ‚Give him a chance. You never know.‛ She knew, but maybe... Would it be so bad...? One night...? ‚I’ll think about it.‛ ***** Paul dashed up the stairs and into his apartment at six forty-five the next evening. He had fifteen minutes to shower and change before Beth came to pick him up. The girl was always punctual, damn it.

Shedding clothes as he went, he was naked by the time he reached the bathroom. The scent of something delicious made his mouth water. Celeste was baking again. With her schedule as it was, she worked Monday through Thursday, ten hour shifts, and had three-day weekends. He wished he could do that. After the day he’d had, he’d love the next three days off. The hot water eased his tense shoulders and upper back. He hadn’t slept worth a damn last night. Then, just as he’d drifted off, Celeste’s friend had come over. Since he hadn’t shut the vents, the door buzzer was almost as loud in his apartment as it would be hers. He should have kept his mouth shut and not let her know he’d been listening to their conversation, but he couldn’t. When she made the comment about being old and fat, his temper had risen. He was a pretty laid back guy, typically, but listening to her talk about herself that way pissed him off. She was gorgeous, sensual, and fat? God, he doubted he’d ever seen a woman who got his blood to pounding as fast as watching her walk. All round curves packed on that itty-bitty body. He growled in frustration and wrapped his hand around his stiffening cock. He’d managed to make it through the night without jacking off, but he couldn’t take it any longer. Now that he’d tasted her sweet cunt, had his fingers buried deep inside her tight core, how was he supposed to leave her alone? He stroked his dick, wishing it was her hand. Her small, soft hand sliding along his length. Her mouth. Those full, luscious lips. He groaned and dropped his forehead to the cold, tile wall. His balls drew up tight as he imagined her on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock and looking up at him with those startling blue eyes. He closed his eyes and let the image in his mind carry him away. He rubbed harder and faster, imagined bending her over the back of her sofa and pounding into that sweet, wet pussy. She’d clamp around him so tight. She’d be so slick and hot. Fuck! He came with a low groan. Panting, he pressed his palms to the wall to hold himself up. His thighs shook from the force of the orgasm. I’m going to have you, Celeste. If I have to spend next month’s salary wooing you, I’m going to get you into bed. And then I’m going to make it so that goddamned vibrator won’t do it for you anymore. Only me, lady. I’ll give you everything you need. He turned into the stinging spray and rinsed his body, hurried through a shampooing, and was just stepping out of the tub when he heard the front door open. ‚Hey, Paulie. You home?‛ Beth had a key to his place and was free to come and go as she wanted. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out into the living room. ‚Yeah, I’m here. Give me a couple more minutes.‛

Beth tisked. ‚I swear Mom’s right. You’ve never been on time anywhere. She said you were even born late.‛ ‚Yeah, yeah,‛ he grumbled as he went into his bedroom to get dressed. ‚It’s been a bitch of a day.‛ ‚How’s the case coming along? I can’t believe the woman murdered was in her eighties.‛ He didn’t want to think about the case. He and Tagg had been interviewing possible witnesses all day, and they still weren’t any closer to figuring out who did it. The guy who had been taken into custody was released that morning. They had no evidence against him other than he was seen in the general vicinity at the approximate time of the murder. But then, so had a dozen other people. ‚Come on, bro, give me a nibble. Something?‛ ‚No.‛ He jerked on his jeans and grabbed a pair of socks and a T-shirt out of the dresser before going into the living room. He plopped down on the sofa and jerked on the socks before strapping on his backup piece—his mom didn’t allow him to wear his sidearm in her house. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. ‚Come on, Paulie. All that’s been released to the press is her name, age, and that it was probably a robbery gone bad.‛ Being that was all he knew didn’t make him feel any better. ‚Drop it, Beth. I’m not talking about the case tonight.‛ Standing up, he pulled on his shirt and tucked it inside his still unbuttoned pants. ‚Hey. Are you okay?‛ she asked, her tone changing to one of concern. After buttoning his fly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. ‚Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just been a rough week. We should get going.‛ He released her and grabbed his jacket off the sofa. ‚Okay. Let me just go potty first.‛ He rolled his eyes as she headed for the bathroom. ‚You’re thirty, not ten.‛ She giggled and shut the door. Keys, wallet, badge... He checked his jacket pockets to make sure he had everything. The scent of Celeste’s baking made his stomach yowl in hunger. He couldn’t remember if he’d eaten any lunch. His mom was making roast tonight, and he wondered if he’d eat the whole thing and leave none for the women. A soft knock sounded on the door. His heart skipped a beat. It had to be Celeste. Anyone else would have to buzz in from outside. Shit, shit, shit. If she changed her mind about taking him up on his offer, she had lousy timing. He couldn’t stand his mom up. He pulled open the door to see sweet little Celeste standing on the landing, a look of insecurity in her eyes and a plate of cookies in her hand. ‚Hey, baby.‛ ‚H...‛ She licked her lips and swallowed hard. ‚Hi.‛

He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take away all that uncertainty, but he didn’t have the time. His mother hated tardiness worse than Beth. ‚You’re on your way out, aren’t you?‛ she asked, and there was no mistaking the disappointment in her expression. He nodded. ‚Hey, Paulie! You’re outta toilet paper.‛ Celeste’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. ‚Oh.‛ She turned away and was three steps down before he caught her. ‚Wait. Celeste.‛ Stepping down below her on the stairs, he looked up at her and effectively blocked her escape. She stared down at the plate of cookies in her hand. ‚I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I just—‛ ‚It’s my sister, not a date. We’re having dinner at our mother’s tonight.‛ Her gaze slowly rose to meet his, and he grinned. The poor baby. ‚Are the cookies for me?‛ She nodded. ‚Can I come over after I get back from Mom’s and have some?‛ She hesitated but then nodded. ‚Is there more to dessert than cookies?‛ She swallowed again. Stepping up next to her on the step where she stood, crowding her against the wall, he slipped the plate from her hand so she didn’t drop it, then pressed against her, letting her feel what she did to his body. Letting her know exactly what he wanted when he came over for dessert. And then he kissed her. Slowly, careful not to overwhelm her. He brushed his mouth against hers once, twice, three times until her lips parted on a sigh. Then he swept his tongue into her just once before easing back to look into her eyes. ‚I want you, Celeste. I want to finish what we started last night. Is that what you want?‛ She stared into his eyes, and he thought he could drown in the blue of hers. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb against her silky skin. ‚Say yes, Celeste.‛ ‚Yes,‛ she said on a soft sigh. He grinned as triumph arced through him. ‚I’ll be back by ten.‛ ‚Hey, moron,‛ Beth said from just inside his apartment. ‚You’re damn lucky I had some tissues in my pur— Oh. Hi.‛ Celeste glanced up toward his doorway. ‚Hi,‛ she said, her voice low and raspy. Her cheeks turned a beguiling shade of dark pink. ‚You remember my sister, Beth, don’t you, baby?‛ If possible, her color darkened a bit. She nodded. He leaned in and kissed her again before letting her go. ‚Take these,‛ he said, holding the plate for her.

She wrapped her hands around the edges, her fingers brushing his. A grin spread over his face when he realized she was shaking. He leaned forward and whispered, ‚Keep them—and yourself—warm for me.‛ Then he licked the shell of her ear, and she shivered. As soon as he pulled back, she sidled away and practically ran down the rest of the stairs. This was going to be one long-ass dinner with his mother.

Chapter Five ‚Okay, two hours twenty minutes,‛ Beth said as she drove him home—way too slow to his liking. ‚You know I’m not taking you home until you tell me what’s going on with you and your neighbor.‛ ‚None of your business.‛ Paul slouched in the passenger seat and willed her to actually press down on the accelerator. ‚How long has it been going on? I didn’t have a clue you two were so cozy.‛ She took a turn onto a street leading away from his apartment. He growled. ‚Not long. Turn around. I want to go home.‛ ‚How long is not long?‛ she asked, playing the innocent as she wove the car through a residential area. ‚Fuck, Beth, don’t do this.‛ He wasn’t ready to talk about Celeste. God willing, they’d start a real relationship, but it was too soon to know. She was too skittish. She’d admitted to just wanting to get laid. He was more than willing to oblige, but he wanted much more than one night. His sister slowed the car to a crawl. ‚What’s up, Paulie? What’s wrong?‛ ‚I finally get the chance to sleep with her, and you won’t take me home. That’s what’s wrong.‛ Beth slammed on the breaks and turned her head, eyes wide, and stared at him. He swiped his hand down his face. ‚Sorry, sis.‛ He sighed. He never yelled. ‚It’s complicated, and I’m not ready to talk about it yet, okay?‛ Beth laid her hand over his knee. ‚Okay. But I’m here...‛ He smiled, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. ‚I know, baby girl. I love you. But if you don’t take me home right now, I’m going to hijack your car.‛ She laughed and flipped a U-turn in the middle of the vacant street. ‚Okay, okay, I get it. You have plans to get laid tonight.‛ He licked his lips in anticipation. Hopefully, it was just the first of many nights with Celeste. Many, many, as in forever many, nights. He never thought it would

happen, but he couldn’t deny that over the past five years she’d lived beneath him, he’d slowly fallen in love. Now it was time to get her to do the same. When Beth pulled up in front of the Victorian house which had been converted into two apartments where he lived, he practically jumped from the car. ‚Hey,‛ Beth called as he jogged up the front steps. He slipped his key in the door and turned back toward the car. ‚What?‛ ‚Be careful, okay?‛ He smiled and waved, waited until she pulled off, then ran up the stairs to his apartment. ***** Celeste heard the car door slam out on the street, heard his sister call out to him, and then heard him pound up the stairs to his apartment. She sat on the sofa wrapped in her bathrobe, hugging a throw pillow and praying he’d forget what she’d done. Maybe he was tired after a long day at work. Dinner with his family could have made him forget. Right? Please? She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard him walking around above her. She’d offered dessert. He’d told her to keep the cookies and herself warm for him. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t do it. The loud snap made her jump, but she realized it was the air vent when Paul spoke. ‚Hey, baby. I have a bottle of wine or a six-pack of imported German beer Beth gave me. You interested?‛ Maybe if she didn’t say a word, he’d think she’d fallen asleep. Or left the house. She could have been called into work for an extra shift. ‚Okay, I’ll bring both down.‛ She sighed. Flopping over onto her side, she buried her face in the pillow. I can’t go through with this! He was at least ten years her junior, had the muscles of a twentyfive-year-old body builder, and oh, God, what he did with his tongue... She curled up in a ball as her heartbeat accelerated with anxiety and, to her chagrin, excitement. Her breathing grew shallow. She tingled all over but was terrified to let him see her, touch her. The knock on the door made her yelp. She hadn’t even heard him come down the stairs she’d been so caught up in her worries—in the hot, pulsating sensations running through her body. ‚Celeste? You okay?‛ No, she wasn’t okay. She was losing it. Had already lost it. How could she even consider letting him in? ‚I’m fine,‛ she said as she slowly sat up and stared at the door. ‚May I come in?‛ he asked, his voice so low, a little gravelly. Sarah was right; he had a voice to die for.

She swallowed hard and stood up. The robe covered her from neck to shin, but she still felt too exposed. She should have stayed in real clothes. But after her bubble bath, she’d felt a little daring and put on sexy underwear—or at least the sexiest she owned. Pale pink satin and lace, but nothing too revealing. It was the best she could do. If she were a real woman—someone like Sarah—she’d throw off the robe and answer the door in nothing but the scraps of material. But she couldn’t do that. No way. Heck, she wanted to run into her room and put on her flannel pajamas. Those would turn any man off. They were five years old, faded, tattered— ‚Baby? Come on. Let me in. We’ll just have a drink, and you can let me have a few cookies. Nothing more. Okay? No pressure.‛ A drink and cookies. Milk went better with cookies than alcohol, but she’d definitely thought about a few stiff drinks in the last hour since exiting the tub. She didn’t keep alcohol in the apartment, though. One of her daughters had a drinking problem, and it was safer to just not have anything around. She approached the door with silent, bare-footed steps and peered out the peephole. God, he was gorgeous. His gray T-shirt stretched across his mouth-watering pecs. His jeans were faded and...perfectly fit. His hair, a little too long, hanging just to his collar, was mussed and sexy. ‚Okay,‛ he said softly, but being so close to the door she heard his sigh. He stared at the door a moment, a dark bottle of wine in one hand, a cardboard six-pack carton in the other. Then he shook his head and turned toward the stairs. He was going to leave! She jerked open the door before her brain registered her actions. He spun around, and a big grin spread across his sexy lips. What had she done? She wasn’t supposed to let him in. Biting her bottom lip, she stared at him, overwhelmed by a sensation very much like being a deer caught in the headlights. She wanted to flee, but her feet just wouldn’t move. ‚Hi, Celeste,‛ Paul said, his voice so... She sighed. Perfect. That’s what he was. From the top of his head to his sexy, worn boots to the low, soothing voice, he was simply perfect. How could she do this? Yet, how could she turn him away? ‚Hi,‛ she managed, moving to the side to allow him entrance. He stepped around her, seeming careful not to touch her in any way. ‚Wine or beer?‛ he asked, setting the alcohol on the breakfast bar and turning to her with raised eyebrows. She licked her lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and his nostrils flared slightly as he sucked in a breath. Which would get her drunk faster? ‚Beer.‛ She could chug it faster than she could wine. He pulled a bottle from the carton and looked at the top. ‚Got an opener?‛ He grinned. ‚I’m not used to imported stuff. No twist top.‛

To get him the bottle opener, she had to go into the kitchen and dig through her utensil drawer. That meant getting close to him. Her fingers tightened around the doorknob, and she realized she still stood with the door wide open. ‚I’m not going to jump you, Celeste. You’re safe with me.‛ She jerked her gaze from kitchen drawers to his eyes. ‚I didn’t think you would.‛ The words rushed out on a breath. ‚I mean...I’m just... Oh, heck.‛ She shoved the door closed and crossed her arms over her chest, wishing like hell she hadn’t worn her old, terrycloth robe. Paul eased down onto one of the stools by the counter and turned his head so he wasn’t looking at her. As if he knew she couldn’t handle the scrutiny right now. They’d always had such an easy relationship before. He’d helped her move her sofa. She’d made him chicken soup when he had the flu last year. They saw each other in the hall and said hello. If he was at the hospital for work-related reasons when she was on shift, sometimes they had coffee together. She’d always thought him incredibly sexy but very much off limits. Everyone had been off limits until last night. What had changed in her life that she had one man ready to rape her and another who wanted to...wake up next to her in the morning? Easing away from the door, she slowly walked into the kitchen and opened the drawer to scrounge for the bottle opener. Sharing a beer in her kitchen seemed so much different than having coffee in the doctor’s lounge or cafeteria. She located the opener and turned to the counter. Paul sat there, a devil in disguise. She knew what that mouth could do. He had the darkest, most intense eyes she’d ever seen, yet most of the time they sparkled with humor. They were lit with a different brightness tonight. She wasn’t sure why, or even how, but he truly found her... He obviously wanted... She licked her lips again as she met that intense gaze. ‚I haven’t been with a man since my husband, and we divorced eight years ago.‛ He gave a slow nod. ‚You pretty much told me that last night.‛ He held out his hand for the opener. When she laid it on his palm, he popped the top on two bottles of beer and pushed one across the counter to her. ‚It’s not as if I’m going to judge on technique or accuracy.‛ Her face heated. That was a load of crap. Everyone judged. Hell, even though it’d been so damn long, she was going to—already had on what happened the night before. He got a solid ten. She might be a four. Damn it, probably a two. College was the last time she’d been with anyone besides her cheating ex-husband, and in twenty years of marriage, there had been only a handful of amazing sex. No wonder he left her for a— ‚You need to stop that.‛ She met his eyes again. ‚Stop what?‛ ‚Stop comparing. Stop worrying. Stop driving yourself insane because of what your bastard of an ex did to you. You’re single, you’re beautiful, and you have sexual

needs just as any woman. You’ve obviously got issues with your ex, with what he did, but that has nothing to do with us.‛ ‚Us?‛ Sounded awful serious for a one-night stand. ‚You. Me. Spending the night together—or not.‛ He shrugged, lifted his beer, and took a long swig. ‚We can play cards or Monopoly, or you could teach me how to bake.‛ She raised her eyebrows. ‚Yeah. Let me just grab my recipe book.‛ He grinned. ‚You did promise me some cookies.‛ Oh. She’d forgotten. Turning to the stove, she grabbed the oven mitt from the hook on the wall, then reached into the oven and pulled out a stoneware plate with a half dozen cookies. ‚And here they are.‛ She laid the plate on the counter. ‚Oh. Damn.‛ He reached for one. ‚You really did keep them warm.‛ The look of sheer rapture on his face as he bit into it made her mouth water and her nipples tingle. He closed his eyes and chewed in slow motion, a soft moan rumbling from his chest. Her pussy clenched. She picked up her beer and tossed back a third of it in one long swallow. ‚I thought your chicken noodle was amazing,‛ he said as he reached for a second cookie, ‚but these are heaven.‛ ‚My mom’s recipe,‛ she said, then rolled her eyes. Like he cared. He finished off the second cookie, his tongue peeking out of his mouth to lick the crumbs from the corner of his lips, and her knees nearly buckled. She wanted that tongue on her again. In her mouth, teasing her clit, lapping up— ‚A couple weeks ago, I almost went nuts. I kept smelling some kind of spice cake or something. I almost broke down your door and commandeered it.‛ He was talking about cake, and all she could think about was his talented, seductive tongue. She forced her thoughts from the gutter. ‚Pumpkin bread. I took it to work for the New Year’s party. I had some leftover pumpkin in the freezer from Thanksgiving. And if you wanted some, all you had to do was ask.‛ His eyes changed in an instant—darkened, blazed with heat—and her cheeks burned under his concentrated regard. Those were the same words he’d said to her about sex. She spun away, needing to break the tension sparking between them, and turned off the oven. Paul cleared his throat. ‚Well, I’ll be sure to come knocking the next time you have something I want to...taste.‛ She closed her eyes and leaned on the counter. Her entire body zinged with excitement at the double entendre.

A soft chuckle from him broke the spell. Dropping her head forward, she groaned. She either needed to get him out of her apartment, or they needed to get on with it and get it over with. ‚Celeste?‛ ‚Hmm?‛ She refused to turn around just yet, fearful he’d see the need in her eyes. The silence stretched until she had to look. When she did, she found him watching her, but his brow was furrowed in concern. ‚What?‛ She fidgeted with the lapels of her robe, tucking them closer together. Covering more of herself. He slowly stood up and rounded the end of the breakfast bar until he stood right next to her. Laying his hands gently on her shoulders, he turned her body to face his. He stared into her eyes. His face was rugged. Not a bit boyish. A curl of his dark-brown hair hung over his forehead, making him look a little piratical. Dangerous in a purely sexual way. That and the tiny hoop earring in his left ear. A five o’clock shadow darkened his cheeks and chin just a bit, and she wondered how it would feel against the tender flesh of her breasts. He moved his left hand to cup the side of her face, and her eyelids drooped. The touch was tender, sweet. ‚As much as I want you—have wanted you for so long—I’m not willing to throw away the friendship we’ve built over the years of living here.‛ His thumb swept along the line of her jaw, then over her bottom lip. ‚You’re obviously not interested in me the way I am you. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.‛ Her heart thudded. She was interested. Oh, heaven above, she was interested. Every nerve ending in her body screamed for his touch. He leaned forward, and she was sure he would kiss her, but his lips just barely grazed her forehead. ‚Goodnight, Celeste.‛ His hands dropped from her, and he turned away. ‚No,‛ she whispered, the single word slipping between her lips without her consent. He turned back, one hand on the countertop, his brows wrinkled in an adorably confused frown. ‚No?‛ She sucked in a deep breath for courage, laid one of her hands over his, then reached up and wrapped her other behind his neck, pulling him forward. ‚No. Don’t go. I’m interested.‛ She went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his.

Chapter Six The kiss was so sweet because of its innocence. Closed mouth, lips against lips, her eyes squeezed tight. Celeste made him feel like he was back in junior high. A thrill went through him that she didn’t let him leave, but he worried she wasn’t ready for what he wanted. Sure, she might want to get laid, but he didn’t want that to be the only thing tonight was about. He raised his hand to her neck, tipped his head slightly, and opened his mouth just a bit to soften the pressure of the kiss. She followed suit, and he captured her bottom lip between his. She sighed, and her muscles relaxed a little. His cock pressed against his fly, and he wanted nothing more than to press against her, take her right here against the counter. But he held himself in check. He hadn’t been with a woman in a couple of months, so he had to take it slow or he might scare her. She needed tenderness. Besides it being a long time since she’d been with a man, he seriously wondered what kind of experience she’d had with her ex, and wondered, too, if her ex had been her only other lover. From the way she’d reacted to a little foreplay the night before, he doubted it had all been fireworks. He was dying to get her out of the damn bathrobe. She flicked her tongue against his bottom lip, and his knees almost buckled. He couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as his dick turned rock hard and throbbed for release from the confines of too tight denim. When she repeated the provocative little lick, he wrapped his other arm around her, pulled her tight against him, and pressed against the softness of her belly. ‚Oh,‛ she said on a soft gasp, jerking her head back to look up at him. He grinned. ‚Surprise.‛ She licked her lips, and her big blue eyes were wide and filled with a look of wonder. As if she had no clue what she did to him. She swallowed hard, the sound audible in the silent room.

‚Do you want to stop?‛ he asked, though the question nearly killed him to vocalize. She shook her head. ‚Do you?‛ He chuckled. ‚Ah, no. If you hadn’t noticed...‛ He rocked his hips, rubbing against her. ‚I’m ready for much more.‛ ‚You...‛ She glanced over his shoulder before her gaze zeroed in on his neck where it stayed. ‚...want to go to the bedroom?‛ Instead of answering, he swept his hand through her hair, letting his fingers tangle in the silky waves. Then he leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers. Once, twice, until she parted her lips. And then he settled in for a real kiss. Deep, damp, filled with all the things he wanted to share with her. She tasted of beer and honey. Bittersweet. Her scent was a mixture of flowers and musk. Warm and alluring. He swept his tongue into her again and again, reveling in her softness, in the natural sensuality she probably had no idea she possessed. When she whimpered, he pulled back and was pleasantly surprised when she imitated his action with her own tongue, sinking it into his mouth and teasing his. They broke the kiss simultaneously, needing oxygen, but he didn’t release her. He trailed kisses along her jaw, up to that sensitive spot behind her ear, then down her neck to the soft curve of her shoulder as he tugged the ugly robe a bit for better access. She moaned and clung to him with one hand on his shoulder, the other gripping the fabric of his T-shirt at his side. ‚Damn, baby, you taste good.‛ She shivered, and her fingers tightened on his shoulder. He suckled the soft skin of her neck and, while she was distracted, tugged the bow of her belt until it fell open. When he slipped his hand into the robe at her waist, she sucked in a quick breath and tried pulling away. ‚No, baby. Shh.‛ He sucked her earlobe between his teeth. ‚You’re so soft and warm.‛ Splaying his hand over the gentle dip of her waist, he turned her slightly and pinned her against the counter with his body. Her quick pants fanned against his cheek as he nibbled on her ear, licking the shell, scraping his teeth over the lobe. ‚Paul...‛ Dipping his head, he kissed her shoulder and tugged the robe a bit farther open, revealing the milky white curve of her shoulder. He nipped it then kissed a path lower, to the swell of her breast and the pale pink lace covering her berry-colored areola. ‚You’re gorgeous.‛ She whimpered and raised her hand to his hair. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, she cried out and fisted his hair.

He suckled her through the lace as he pushed the robe out of his way so he could get both hands on her flesh. Groaning, he gripped her waist and scraped his teeth over the tip of her breast. A soft sob of pleasure came out of her, and his dick pulsed in pain as it fought its confines. He had to get out of his pants and into her. He pulled back, bent his knees, and scooped her into his arms. She let out a little yelp and clung to his neck, burying her face against his shoulder. Her innocence amazed him. She’d been married for twenty years! Hadn’t her husband ever— Fuck that. Tonight he’d make her forget her damn, good-for-nothing ex. ‚Please tell me you want to continue this.‛ She nodded against his shoulder, her arms tightening around his neck until she nearly choked him. ‚Thank God.‛ He headed for the bedroom. ‚Paul?‛ ‚Hmm?‛ he asked as he set her on the queen-sized bed and reached for the bedside lamp. ‚I still don’t have any condoms, and leave the light off, please.‛ He grinned at her, wanting to argue, wanting to feast his eyes on her sweet body, but he could see her well enough in the light pouring through the door from the living room. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the strip of three rubbers he’d grabbed when he went upstairs to get the beer. ‚All taken care of.‛ Her eyebrows rose. ‚That sure of yourself?‛ He toed off his boots, dropped his pants, and sat on the edge of the bed to remove his socks and ankle holster. ‚I might have to go up and get more sometime in the middle of the night.‛ As he jerked his shirt over his head, she cleared her throat. He dropped the shirt onto his jeans and rolled toward her, throwing his leg over hers. ‚You doubt me?‛ ‚You might be young, but I don’t think you’re that young. I’m in the medical profession, remember? As far as I know, only teenagers can get it up that many times in one night.‛ He sighed and shook his head as he traced the swell of her breasts above the bra. She’d pulled the edges of her robe back together and kept them clamped in one hand, but her cleavage was still visible. ‚I offer you a night of hot sex, and before we even get started, you question my manhood. I’m hurt.‛ A tiny smile flitted over her lips. ‚I’m just saying that I think your expectations are a bit high for yourself.‛ Her teasing warmed him, even if she did try to bash his ego into tiny bits. He’d simply have to prove her wrong. He’d wanted her for so long, he was fairly sure he could go until dawn. Dipping his head, he tugged her bra out of the way with his teeth

then licked her nipple. It beaded under his tongue, and he repeated the motion, drawing a soft sigh from her. ‚I’m going to make you eat your words, pretty lady. I’m going to do you until you can’t walk.‛ ‚Promises, promises,‛ she murmured as she arched her back, pressing her breast deeper into his mouth. ‚Oh, baby... I promise.‛ He pulled her hand away from the robe and pinned it above her head. She sucked in a fast breath, and her eyes widened. They sparkled in the dim light, and he saw her insecurity return. ‚Don’t,‛ he whispered as he leaned up and brushed his lips against hers. ‚Don’t hide. Don’t worry. Just let go and...feel.‛ ‚What...what happened to your leopard-print undies?‛ she asked, obviously trying to distract him while she tried to tug her wrist from his grip. He laughed and dropped his forehead to hers, holding tight and not letting her pull away. ‚Plain black not good enough for you?‛ ‚They were...cute.‛ He groaned and kissed the side of her neck. ‚I have tiger stripes, too.‛ ‚Hmm.‛ He nipped the sweet skin behind her ear, and she wiggled beneath him with a groan. ‚I’ll wear them next time...just for you.‛ ‚Paul...‛ ‚Shh. You just lie there and let me make you feel good, okay?‛ Releasing her hand, he ran his palm down her arm and cupped her breast. She arched into his caress as he teased her neck with lips and teeth. Just lie there... Celeste wasn’t sure, but she was fairly certain that a woman wasn’t supposed to just lie there. It was something her ex had complained about. He’d wanted her to do...something. But what? Then again, if tonight was the one and only time to have this gorgeous young detective in her bed, part of her did want to be still and let him make everything wonderful. Another part of her, though, wanted to participate. Wanted to taste and touch and experience everything she could. Maybe it would be better with another man later, when she found someone more...appropriate. Paul lifted her slightly, and his hands snuck under her back. Next thing she knew, her bra was unsnapped, and he pushed it up. She cringed. Old, saggy, fortyseven-year-old breasts when he was used to young twenty-somethings. Even as his mouth closed over her nipple, and she felt the hard tug all the way to her core, she wanted to cover herself and hide. She saw the women he brought home. Not often lately, but there’d been a lot in the past years. Tall, buxom, slim. They wore tight tops and short skirts, high heels, and a lot of makeup.

She could only imagine what he thought of her. The lonely, old divorcee who hadn’t had a date in eight years. Could she be any more pathetic? His hand snuck down her side, and his mouth closed over her other nipple, drawing it deep into the warm softness of his mouth. Her thoughts scattered as her pussy clenched, and sizzling heat radiated through her body. When he moaned as if she were the best thing he’d ever tasted, she arched her back, willing to give him more, give him anything he wanted. He licked and sucked and kissed her breasts. She could almost pretend he liked what he saw. Dear Lord, she loved what he did to her. Moisture dampened her panties as his fingers toyed with the inside of her thigh, so close to her center, so close to where she wanted—needed—his touch. She spread her fingers through his thick, soft hair and reveled in the warmth of his scalp, the heated, musky scent of his cologne mixed with the heady scent that could only be Paul. She closed her eyes, her hips undulating with each strong pull of his mouth on her nipple, and let herself go. Let herself feel. It was one night with Paul. One night in the arms of a man with whom she’d been honest and who knew exactly what she needed. Not for one minute did she think he’d let her down. Too bad pity was the only thing that landed her in his arms. He traced the crotch of her panties with his thumb as he gently squeezed her inner thigh, and she nearly came off the bed with a soft cry, her body shuddering. Tingles raced from her pussy to her toes, and she thrust her hips, silently begging for another stroke. He didn’t disappoint. Again he touched her through her satin underwear; a press to her clit, a stroke over her sensitive lips. ‚Yes,‛ she whispered. She grazed his scalp with her fingernails, and he growled. A grin pulled at her lips. But then he released her nipple with a soft pop and nipped the tender flesh over her rib cage. Then lower...her stomach. Lower still...his tongue dipped into her belly button, and her eyes popped open as a gush of lust and heat rushed through her. ‚Like that?‛ he asked, his voice low, raspy. And he repeated the motion, dipping his tongue in. She sucked in a breath and stifled the cry of shock that clawed at her throat. ‚Don’t keep it inside,‛ he whispered. ‚Let me hear you. Let me know you like what I do to you.‛ She groaned and raised her head to look at him. His dark eyes sparkled with humor and blazed with lust. She licked her lips and let her hands slide from his hair to cup his handsome, rugged face. The urge to thank him for this nearly overwhelmed, but she held her tongue in check. Instead, she whispered, ‚More.‛ A grin spread across his talented lips. ‚My pleasure.‛

Then he was between her legs, spreading her wide, and his hot mouth was over her, on top of her panties. His heated breath, blown through the satin, was too much. She did cry out then, unable to stop the noise from escaping. ‚You don’t have to,‛ she said, even as her head dropped back onto the pillow and her hips rose in demand for more. He’d given her oral last night. It was more than she’d ever expected. No way had she thought he’d do it a second time. ‚Oh, yes I do. You taste better than those cookies.‛ She might have actually laughed, if his mouth hadn’t stolen her breath. His teeth scraped over the crotch of her underwear, and the sensation was like nothing she’d ever before experienced. Spreading her legs wide, she lifted her knees, giving him full access to her. What the hell? Who was she to tell him he couldn’t have what he wanted? He did it again, from her vagina all the way up to her clit. She jerked and groaned, the orgasm growing inside her at an alarming rate. Never before had she been so sensitive, sensitized. Never had a man turned her on, lit her up, got her ready to come so fast. ‚Let’s get these off you,‛ he said, his voice little more than a raspy whisper. He tugged her underwear, and she lifted her legs so he could pull them off. ‚Oh, yeah,‛ he said on a sigh as he placed her feet on the bed, knees up, and spread her wide. ‚That is the most gorgeous cunt I’ve ever seen.‛ Her face heated. It was such a dirty word. Such a bad word. Yet when he said it with reverence as he stared at her, it excited her even more. She closed her eyes again, unable to look at him, at what he was doing. With his fingers, he spread her pussy lips. ‚All pink and pretty, glistening. Is this all for me?‛ She whimpered as her muscles tightened. Moisture pooled, and she knew he could see it. Part of her thought this should feel like a gynecological exam with him staring at her, but even as she tried to keep herself from growing ever closer to the edge of oblivion, she couldn’t stop the inevitable. He liked what he saw. He sounded so sincere. A cool breeze blew over her heated flesh, and she nearly yelped at the odd, tantalizing sensation. Then, just as she thought she might die from the waiting, he stroked his warm, soft tongue right into her core. Her hips bucked without her consent, smashing his face against her. His five o’clock shadow abraded her tender flesh, and she grabbed the bedspread in her fists to keep from shouting. He moaned against her as his tongue stroked in and out. She lifted against him with each thrust of his tongue, trying to fuck his face. Then the world shattered into a million sizzling colors as he simultaneously jabbed two thick, long fingers into her and sucked her clit between his lips.

She yowled and pressed herself down on his fingers, into his mouth, unable to stop or even slow the orgasm as it slammed into her so hard she thought she might die of the exquisite pleasure. As the first tidal wave moved on, Paul was over her, braced on his hands, and he slammed his cock into her. He grunted. She whimpered. ‚You want it hard, Celeste?‛ he said as he pummeled into her. She couldn’t answer. Wasn’t sure she was even breathing. All she could do was grab his arms for leverage so she didn’t wind up banging her head into the headboard and wrap her legs around his lean waist as his hard, driving thrusts stroked her G-spot. Heat infused her body. A sheen of sweat burst out all over her. She looked up into Paul’s face and saw the caged lust there, the control he held over his body, and soon her own grunts matched his. Wild. Untamed. Dirty. Hard. Sweaty. She’d never experienced anything like it. It was so good. He was so good. She pulled her knees up, locking her ankles behind his back so her pelvis tilted toward him a bit. ‚Oh, yeah,‛ he growled as his strokes grew even more frantic. She couldn’t breathe! The pleasure was too much. The sensations too strong. Every muscle in her body clenched. She lifted her hips off the bed, using her legs around him to pull her up, and the next stroke went so deep, so hard, she felt him all the way to her soul. She screamed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down onto her, needing his weight against her, grounding her. His body went taut, and he thrust once more before holding himself deep inside her. Her core pulsed around him. His cock throbbed inside her. ‚Oh, God,‛ he shouted, his face against her shoulder. ‚Celeste...‛

Chapter Seven Paul rolled off of Celeste and sucked in deep breaths of oxygen. Holy shit. Holy crap. That had been the most amazing sexual experience of his life. Beside him, Celeste panted. He reached over and laced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand. ‚Wow,‛ she said on a puff. ‚Uh huh,‛ was all he could manage in response. She’d shorted out his brain. He licked his dry lips and tasted her. God, she was good. Turning his head, he gazed at her. She stared at the ceiling, her free hand resting on her heaving chest. He grinned. If that didn’t convince her they belonged together, he wasn’t sure anything would. No two people who genuinely liked each other—and he was fairly confident she liked him as much as he liked her—who also had that kind of explosive sexual chemistry could possibly go through life apart. The fact that he loved her, had loved her for some time, had to count for something. He just needed to convince her. When the lightheadedness faded, he rolled onto his side and nuzzled her neck. ‚Damn, baby.‛ ‚Damn...‛ she agreed with a nod, which made him chuckle. Little Miss Prim and Proper said damn. ‚I’ll be right back.‛ He rolled off the bed to his feet and made his way out the bedroom door and into the bathroom. He disposed of the condom and turned on the water faucet. Leaning on the vanity, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Damn. He’d known she was hot, but he hadn’t expected her to blow his mind that way. When the water heated, he splashed his face and chest, washing away the cooling sheen of perspiration. Then he cleaned his cock and balls. When she came at his slightest touch, even faster than the night before, he’d nearly come right then on her mattress. It had taken everything he had to hold off. But it had definitely been worth it. He grabbed a pink, flower-print hand cloth from the rack on the wall and dried himself. As his bicep flexed, he saw red marks on his arms in the reflection. On closer examination, he saw four crescent indents where her nails had dug into him. With a

chuckle, he dropped the towel into the white, wicker laundry hamper and headed out of the bathroom to the kitchen. He grabbed the two open beers and the plate of cookies from the counter then went back to the bedroom. This time he turned on the wall light switch as he entered. His heart took a little tumble. She’d put on a T-shirt—or nightshirt—and was under the covers. Hiding. God, he was a lucky bastard. He planned to show her, before the night was through, just how much he loved her. Age sure as hell didn’t matter to him. Setting the cookie plate on the nightstand, he held out her beer for her. ‚Thirsty?‛ She nodded and took the bottle. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, nor would she really look in his direction. If she was embarrassed by his nudity, she’d just have to get used to it. He sure as hell wanted to get used to hers—if he could get her to let him see it. Tipping back the bottle, she took a long swallow then covered her mouth as the tiniest burp came out. God, he was a goner. Even that was cute. What a sick man he was. He took a drink from his bottle then grabbed a cookie. When she glanced at him as he bit into it, he grinned. After swallowing, he winked and said, ‚Gotta replenish my energy.‛ She blushed and stared at the bottle in her hand. ‚Bite?‛ He held the cookie to her lips, but she shook her head. ‚No, thanks.‛ She was trying to shut down again. Close him off. Not gonna happen, pretty lady. He drank down his beer, set the bottle next to the cookie plate, then stretched out next to her and laid his head on her abdomen, wrapping his arm around her. She sucked in a breath so quick, she coughed. Then she downed the rest of her beer. He waited to see what she’d do, what she’d say to him. If she tried to send him packing, he knew he could convince her otherwise. He loved how she melted under his kisses. She set her beer bottle next to his and, after a long pause, her fingers flitted through his hair at his nape. Sighing, he closed his eyes. It was a step in the right direction. ‚Aren’t you cold?‛ she asked, her voice a little hoarse. Probably from all her screams. He grinned. ‚No. I’m fine.‛ Silence, but her fingers feathered against his scalp as she stroked his head. Such a simple caress, but so profound.

He’d wasted so many years chasing women. His reputation was in the shitter because of his past transgressions. He’d moved from one woman to another to another for so many years until something just snapped a few months back. He wasn’t even sure what had caused it. His partner getting married. His sister turning thirty and talking about settling down and having kids. His mother’s health not what it used to be. He looked around one day and realized, though he’d had a lot of really great sexual experiences, he had no heart connections. The women still called him. Some stopped by unannounced. But for months now, all he thought about was Celeste. Alone, just like him. Beautiful Celeste who was so gentle and kind. How many Friday nights had he thought of knocking on her door and asking her to dinner? To a movie? To beg her for whatever tasty treat she’d spent the day baking? He could have killed that bastard last night for manhandling her. Wanted to maim the fucker. But that one slip in her judgment had landed him here in the end. And he knew that he had only this one night to convince her, because she still thought of this as a one-night thing. ‚Are you sure you’re not cold?‛ she asked, her voice little more than a whisper. He smiled and tipped his head back to look into her face. ‚I’m fine. Aren’t you too warm under all those blankets?‛ She shook her head, her brow wrinkling. ‚No. I always sleep under all these blankets.‛ He chuckled and scooted up the bed, threw his leg over hers. ‚But...we’re not sleeping.‛ She covered her mouth with a dainty hand and stifled a yawn—which couldn’t have been more fake. ‚Don’t you think it’s time?‛ He raised an eyebrow then glanced at the clock on the nightstand. ‚It’s not even midnight. And neither of us have to work tomorrow. And...I told you I was going to do you all night.‛ Using his index finger, he tugged the blanket down to her waist. She grabbed for it, tried to pull it up to her neck, but he caught her wrists and held them at her sides as he knelt over her, straddling her legs. Her nipples hardened beneath the thin T-shirt material. The picture on the front of it was of a kitten yawning. The innocence of it fit her perfectly. She struggled a bit, half-heartedly, and stared at something over his shoulder. Her cheeks were pink, and she tucked her bottom lip between her straight, white teeth. ‚One word is all it will take, my beautiful Celeste,‛ he whispered, leaning down so his mouth was just a breath from hers. ‚Tell me stop, and I will. But somehow...‛ He pointedly glanced down at her breasts. ‚...I don’t think you really want me to.‛ She licked her lips. The little peek of pink stoked his lust, and his cock stirred against her belly. Her eyes widened, and she glanced down.

‚That’s right, my little doubter,‛ he taunted in a playful tone. ‚I’m revving up for round two. You ready?‛ A shiver went through her, a sure signal that she was. ‚Well, then. You have way too many clothes on.‛ So fast he knew she wouldn’t have a chance to fight him, he grabbed the shirt and jerked it up. Reflex had her raising her arms, and he tossed it to the floor. ‚When you sleep with me, love, you sleep naked.‛ She crossed her arms, covering her breasts, and stared off over his shoulder again. He sat back slightly and rested his hands on his bare thighs. Pressing his lips tight, he glared. Finally, she turned her gaze on him. ‚What?‛ she asked, her brow furrowing into the cutest little frown. ‚You’re starting to piss me off with this.‛ The frown got a little fierce. ‚Sounds like a personal problem you have since I don’t know what you’re talking about.‛ He grabbed her arms and spread them wide, which took a little effort since she was pretty strong for being such a little thing. ‚You hiding from me. Acting like you’re ashamed of your body. That’s what’s pissing me off. You invite me to your bed then cover up. What’s that about? I want to see you. You don’t see me hiding under the covers do you?‛ She scoffed and stared at his chest. ‚You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. You’ve got a perfect body.‛ ‚So do you.‛ This time she snorted. ‚Did you lose your eyesight in the last twenty-four hours?‛ She jerked one hand away and covered her breasts with that arm. He pressed the hand he still held against his cock. ‚Does this feel like I’m making it up?‛ Her face, her neck, all the way down to the upper swells of her breasts, turned beet red. But her fingers curled around him, so smooth and soft and cool on his heated skin. He shuddered, and his eyelids drooped slightly. ‚Maybe you just have an older woman fantasy you needed fulfilled.‛ He burst out laughing. ‚Babe, I’ve been with women older than you. And that was when I was a lot younger.‛ He shook his head. ‚Age has nothing to do with anything between us. You’re beautiful, sexy, sensual, and—‛ He almost said so innocent I want to bundle you up and keep you safe, but figured that wouldn’t go over well. ‚—I want you to see yourself the way I do.‛ She stroked his cock with her fingertips, but it was an absentminded motion, as if she didn’t realize what she was doing while she scowled at him. ‚If you have eyes, I’m pretty sure we see me the same way. Saggy breasts, roly-poly tummy, wide hips, big ass, and thighs that jiggle when I walk. I do have mirrors in this apartment.‛

He looked down to her belly, where his dick rested against her porcelain skin, and shook his head. She was rounded and soft. So fucking soft. He decided to go for honesty. ‚Would you rather be stick-thin and bony? Let me tell you, I’ve been with women like that. They leave bruises.‛ She rolled her eyes. ‚I’m not kidding! It hurts to fuck them. Ever been gouged by a hip bone?‛ Her lips twitched, almost forming into a smile. ‚I’ve seen your women, Paul. They’re not all stick-thin, as you put it, but they’re young, and tall, and pretty, with perfect skin and...big breasts.‛ She shook her head and dropped her gaze back to his chest. With a sigh, she moved her arm from her breasts, cupped the right one in her palm, and said, ‚You can’t tell me that perky twenty-something breasts don’t do more for you than these old, used-up things.‛ Her hand on his cock had stopped its stroking. There was no mistaking the sadness behind her words. He cupped her chin and lifted her head so she had to look at him. ‚Your ex-husband was a moron,‛ he said, taking a shot in the dark. ‚How can you be attracted to me when he, who was older than me, left me for someone twenty years younger? Someone you should be spending your Friday night with.‛ ‚I don’t want to be anywhere else, Celeste. I don’t want to be with anyone else.‛ Ever. But he kept the last part to himself. He had to make her believe in him, and that could take time. Baby steps were needed where she was concerned. He had time. Neither of them were going anywhere. She’d dropped her hand from her breast, and he lifted it, kissed her palm, then used her own fingertips to stroke against her nipple. It puckered at the light touch. ‚Here’s another secret, something a nurse should know.‛ He let go of her hand and stroked her nipple with the backs of his own fingers. Her eye glazed a bit, and he repeated the motion. ‚Women with those perky, perfect breasts? They’re fake, nine times out of ten. And once they’ve had that crap put in their bodies, they never respond like this.‛ She sighed, and her fingers tightened around his dick once again. He flexed his hips, stroking his cock between her hand and her belly. ‚You’re soft, sensitive, you respond to my touch faster and with more passion than any twentysomething I’ve ever been with. You are the perfect woman, Celeste.‛ He leaned down and nuzzled her other breasts with his nose and lips. ‚You are perfect in every way.‛ ‚Paul...‛ she whispered on a sigh. A shiver went down his spine. His penis pulsed. But this time, there was no hurry. This time, he would show her just how perfect it was between them. ‚Kiss me,‛ she murmured.

Bracing one hand on the headboard, he used the other to cup her breast, to abrade her nipple against his palm. Then he leaned in and brushed his mouth against her full, soft lips. ‚Like that?‛ She shook her head. He caught her bottom lip between his and suckled it gently before releasing it. ‚Like that?‛ Again, she shook her head. ‚Then show me.‛ With her free hand, she reached up, threaded her fingers through his hair at the back of his head, and pulled him against her as she buried her tongue into his mouth. He groaned, and his hips rocked as she fucked his mouth with her tongue. She squeezed his cock, tugged it a little, then stroked him from tip to balls. ‚Yes,‛ he said on a pant when she pulled away from his mouth. But then she let go of his dick, brought her other hand up to his head, and bit his neck. ‚Fuck,‛ he hissed as his body jolted in response to the feel of her teeth scoring over his flesh. ‚Like that?‛ she asked. ‚Oh, yeah, baby.‛ He wound his arms around her and rolled, bringing her over him, giving her all the access to his body she could want. She straddled his hips, her moist, hot cunt kissing his puckered balls. He moaned at the sensation and the tingles that raced down his spine with each little, hungry nip of her teeth along his neck, his shoulder, then down to his chest. He nearly came off the bed when her teeth abraded his nipple. ‚Holy shit, woman. I think I released a tiger.‛

Chapter Eight She’d never smelled anything as enticing as Paul’s musky scent. Heat radiated off his body as if he were a furnace. Repeating the light scrape of her teeth over his puckered, hardened nipple, she reveled in the groan he released. He said she was perfect. Damn her, she believed him. He was so sincere, looking her right in the eye as he made that declaration. She needed to let go, just for tonight, and experience everything she’d missed out on during twenty years of a ho-hum sex life with her ex. She swirled her tongue over his rippled abdomen as she slowly scooted down his body. Being a nurse, she saw all kinds of male bodies in the ER, but never had she touched one this perfect, let alone in this way. Never, ever, had she buried her face against the six-pack perfection and breathed in the musky, sexy scent of hot, vibrant male. His chest hair was dark whorls around his pecs. She ran her fingers through it even as she scooted lower, straddled one of his perfect legs, and licked the tip of his long, thick, rock-solid penis. ‚Ahh,‛ he said on a sigh, his hips lifting slightly. Her pussy pulsed and creamed. This was so different from her quick, selfinduced orgasms. This was what it was supposed to have been like all those years she was married. Good Lord, she’d missed out on too much. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and took the soft, velvety tip between her lips. Tangy, salty, delicious. Paul tangled his fingers in her hair, and she feared he’d force her down on him, but he simply held her head in a gentle embrace. She sucked. He groaned, and his hips thrust up a bit, forcing his cock a little farther into her mouth.

Her excitement grew when she realized just how turned on he was. How much he enjoyed her touch, her mouth. She rubbed her pussy against the leg she straddled, and her own moan worked its way up her throat. ‚That’s it, love,‛ he said, his voice as rough as gravel. Then he raised his knee slightly, causing more friction against her clit, and she shivered as yet another climax grew within her. More daring than she thought she’d ever be, she tipped her head forward and took as much of him into her mouth as she could, all the way to the back of her throat. She swirled her tongue against the silky underside, loving the feel of the thick veins. A strangled sound came out of Paul, and she glanced up to see him watching her. And then she moved her head, up and down, pressing her tongue against the underside of his shaft. His eyelids lowered to half-mast, he clenched his teeth, but he never took his gaze from her, never tightened the grip in her hair. With her other hand, she reached between his legs and cupped his testicles. They drew up tight at the touch, and he sucked in his breath, his nostrils flaring slightly. A drip of pre-cum slipped from the tip onto her tongue, hot and tangy. She moaned and swallowed it down then pulled back and licked the slit on the head, searching for more. ‚You’re killing me,‛ he murmured. She wanted to make him come. Wanted to drink his essence. Wanted to be a bad girl for just once in her life. She knew, if ever there was a man who would let her experiment, it was Paul. Taking him deep again and again, she rolled his balls in her palm. Though he was hard, his breathing hadn’t changed. He wasn’t going to come. She released his cock with a slight pop, sat back, and frowned, pulling away from his big, gentle hands. ‚What’s the matter?‛ he asked, taking his penis in his own hand and slowly stroking it. Darn it if that didn’t make her want to ride his leg even harder. ‚What was I doing wrong? Why aren’t you coming?‛ He grinned, and it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. ‚You did nothing wrong. In fact, that was the best head I’ve ever gotten. But I’m not coming because I don’t want to, yet.‛ She scowled. ‚Why not? Isn’t that the point of all this?‛ With a chuckle, he released his cock, sat up, and grabbed her around the waist to settle her over his abdomen again before lying back down. ‚No. It’s not, my feisty little tigress. Tonight is about making you come.‛ Her cheeks heated, and she wanted to cover herself again. Her stupid husband... She stopped herself and closed her eyes. She really needed to leave him out of her

bedroom. He was nothing to her now. All that should matter right now was Paul. Only Paul. ‚For a nurse, you don’t seem very knowledgeable in the male anatomy.‛ He clucked his tongue and shook his head. ‚After that mind-altering sex we had, I’m primed and ready to stay hard all night.‛ He winked again, and that devilish grin made her pussy clench. Then he flexed his hips, and his cock rubbed against her clit where she straddled him. ‚Ohh...‛ She closed her eyes and thrust her hips forward, repeating the sensation. ‚Raise up, love,‛ he said, his voice little more than a whisper. She went up on her knees, and he lifted his cock away from his stomach to flick that silky tip against her clit. Her muscles tightened, and she leaned forward, bracing her hands against his chest, and looked down between their bodies to see his length, his grip around the shaft. ‚Like that?‛ he murmured. She nodded. He repeated the caress several times, making the tension grow within her. Her breathing grew shallow, and she moaned when he pressed slightly at her entrance, gathering her creamy juices, then flicked backed over her clit. With his other hand, he feathered the backs of his fingers across her nipples, and she hissed as her entire body drew tight, the climax growing and growing within her. She watched his hand on her, so gently stroking her breasts, his cock as he guided it with such skill over her clit. Her vision narrowed to those two spots as she gripped her fingers into his chest and held perfectly still, never wanting the exquisite torture to end. ‚You like watching, don’t you, baby?‛ She nodded, unable to form a single word. ‚I love seeing you flush with pleasure. Love knowing I’m giving it to you.‛ Stroke, stroke, stroke, cock and fingers in perfect harmony. She whimpered as her muscles clenched. And then he thrust deep into her, pinched her clit between two fingers, and tweaked her right nipple. She sprang up straight, arched her back, clamped her eyes shut, and wailed as the orgasm slammed into her, shattering her. ‚Yesss,‛ he hissed as her inner muscles contracted around his cock. He raised his knees behind her and thrust up into her, so deep, so hard, another wave of sensation washed over her, through her. She cried out as both of his hands pressed her back against his thighs, massaging her breasts. Panting, impaled on his still-solid penis, she opened her eyes and looked down into his face to see a satisfied smile curving his lips.

‚Beautiful,‛ he muttered, his hands still caressing her breasts, plumping them, abrading her nipples with his slightly rough palms. For the first time in years, she felt beautiful. ‚Where’s your vibrator?‛ ‚What?‛ He chuckled. ‚I’m just getting started here, love.‛ He kept calling her love, and for just a moment, she wanted to believe it. Believe in it. She wanted to be loved by him for just this one night. If he wanted her vibrator, who was she to argue? Slowly, carefully, she leaned forward, resting one hand on the pillow above his shoulder, and slid off his cock. Even that slow glide made her insides clench. It wouldn’t take much to push her over that precipice again. Braced on one hand, she reached over to the nightstand, pulled open the top drawer that squealed, and withdrew her small, pink Mini Rocket. She should be embarrassed, showing him what she normally used to bring herself pleasure, but she was beyond that now. All she could think—wonder—was what he might do with it. Whatever it was, she was sure it would be good. He took it from her hand, grabbed a condom from next to the cookies, and ripped open the little package. ‚I thought you could go all night,‛ she said, surprised by her own boldness. He rolled on the rubber. ‚Well, here’s the thing,‛ he said as he twisted the base of the vibrator and tested the speeds. ‚If you come as hard the next time as you just did...‛ He looked up at her and smirked. ‚...and I’m inside you, I’m going to lose it.‛ A thrill shot through her at his admission. It gave her an odd sense of power. She could make him lose some of that steely control. ‚Come here,‛ he said, his voice dropping to a growl. He guided her up his body a bit, until her breasts hung above his face. Just as the embarrassment grabbed hold of her, he rose up and buried his face between them. His whiskers abraded her skin, sending a shiver of pleasure down her sides. Goose bumps popped out on her arms and thighs, and she moaned. Turning his head, he licked first one nipple, then the other. They tightened, making her pussy clench. ‚God, they react nicely,‛ he murmured before he captured the left nipple between his lips and sucked hard. ‚Oh!‛ She felt the pull all the way to her center. He moved to the other and drew it just as tightly into the warm softness of his mouth. ‚Sit on my dick, baby. Let me feel that hot glide of your cunt again.‛ His dirty words made her hot. Her breathing sped as she scooted back down his body. He held his cock for her, and she slowly lowered herself until his balls met her butt cheeks. Her core clenched around him in time with her heavy heartbeat.

‚Oh, yeah,‛ he said on a sigh. ‚God, that’s amazing. You’re so tight and hot and slick.‛ She rotated her hips, deliberately clenched her pussy muscles, and reveled in the soft hiss of his breath as he sucked it in. His stomach muscles tightened, making his abs ripple. He dropped his legs flat on the bed. ‚Do that again.‛ She repeated the motion, the tightening. ‚Fuck, you’re hot.‛ He pinched her nipple with one hand and grabbed the vibrator off the mattress with the other. ‚I’m going to make you come so hard.‛ She nodded and licked her lips in anticipation. She believed him. He’d already proven himself several times. ‚Lean back a little,‛ he instructed. ‚Put your hands on my legs behind you.‛ She did, which thrust her breasts out. ‚Oh, yeah,‛ he growled. ‚I like the way that looks.‛ Her breaths turned to pants, and he hadn’t even touched her, yet. ‚Clench those cunt muscles around me, baby. Clench them hard.‛ Her body obeyed before her brain told her to do it. It almost scared her how fast the climax approached. She thought she could come just sitting here with his cock inside of her, even if neither of them ever moved. Her breaths became more labored, and she gripped his legs like a lifeline. ‚That’s it,‛ he said, his voice soft, hoarse. ‚More. Keep doing it. Feels good?‛ She nodded as she flexed her muscles around him. It was better than good. It was amazing. He was so long, she could swear she could feel the tip rubbing every part of her that needed it with every pulse of her muscles. He flicked on the vibrator, and she whimpered in anticipation. Watching his hands, waiting for him to put it against her, she clamped down harder and faster on his penis. Then he moved one hand around her, first palming her butt cheek, which made her moan. Then the gentle press of one finger against her anus. Her pussy throbbed. Her arms shook as they held her still. ‚Like that?‛ he whispered. She bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning again and nodded. ‚Little more, okay?‛ Her head bobbed. No one had ever touched her there. She had no idea it would feel so good. He pressed the tip of his finger into her, and she yelped in surprise, but not in pain. A sensation unlike anything she’d ever experienced shot through her, and she was so close to coming, but she desperately held it off. She wanted to feel more. ‚More,‛ she begged aloud.

Simultaneously, he pressed his finger deeper into her anus and pressed the vibrator against her clit. She screamed and her hips bucked against him. His cock bumped her G-spot, and her mind shut off. She called his name, and her hips jerked as she rode him; his cock, his finger, the vibrator. She couldn’t draw a breath. Couldn’t see anything but his rugged, gorgeous face as he watched her undulate from his ministrations. Then he pressed his head into the pillow, thrust up into her so deep she felt him in her soul, and came with a shout. She fell forward onto his chest as his cock pulsed within her, drawing out yet another small wave of pleasure from her. The vibrator lay on the bed next to them, still buzzing. He wrapped his arms around her and held her in the warmest, tightest, most perfect embrace. She never wanted it to end.

Chapter Nine Paul came awake with a start, his eyelids snapping open as a sense of displacement rolled through him. Then the soft warmth pressed against his side, the gentle breath ruffling his chest hair, made him sigh and relax. He was in Celeste’s bed. With Celeste. He looked down at the top of her head tucked against his shoulder, her silky blonde hair tousled and mussed, and smiled. As hard as it was to admit, after that last round of life-altering sex, neither had the energy to continue. She’d fallen asleep sprawled over him, in his arms. It had felt better than anything he’d ever imagined. His woman, he’d thought with a surge of possession he’d never before felt for anyone. His stomach rumbled in hunger, and he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost nine. Careful not to wake her, he scooted out from beneath her and almost fell off the bed, he was so close to the edge. He grinned as he pulled the covers up over her naked body. She sighed, sprawled out on her stomach, and gave a cute little snort before settling. Could it be more obvious she was used to sleeping alone? But she hadn’t turned away from him in the night. She’d stayed tucked against his side the entire time, and the thought warmed him. He’d get her around to his way of thinking. And he didn’t expect it to take long, either. Not after last night. He lightly ran his hand over her hair then headed for the bathroom. He grabbed a quick shower, chuckling over smelling like her flowery shampoo, then wrapped a fluffy pink towel around his waist and headed for the fridge with his stomach growling. Shit. Cookies, cake, some kind of sweet bread, salad or fruit. That was it. He pulled grapes, an orange, apple, and two kiwis from the crisper, ignoring the celery and carrot sticks. That was a bit too much health for breakfast. There were no eggs or bread or anything else in there except the door shelves loaded with condiments. Then he saw the reason why. Two empty egg cartons sat on top of the garbage in the corner. She’d baked them all into her cookies and cakes. As much as he loved baked food, it wasn’t exactly breakfast, either. He wasn’t that much of a bachelor. He did eat real food. Fruit would suffice until later. He tucked most of the fruits in his one arm and

bit into the apple as he made his way back to the bedroom. They’d go out for supper tonight. Maybe that little Italian place everyone raved about. He’d never been there, but Tagg was a big fan of it. He usually just took his dates to Darby’s. Cold beer and sizzling burgers. What more could a guy ask for? But Celeste needed some pampering. She obviously was lacking in that department. After setting the rest of the fruits on the plate with the one remaining cookie from last night, he crawled into bed. Or rather, reclined on the very edge where there was a bit of space, and bit another chunk out of the apple. Celeste murmured something and rolled onto her back. He grinned as he watched her slowly wake up. Her hair was a tangled mess over her face. She lay diagonal on the bed, her head several inches below the pillows, and those breasts—the ones he thought were about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and she thought were old and used up—were beautifully bare. He wanted to lean over and lick the nipples just to see them pucker from their soft state. She swiped the hair from her face and yawned, stretched like a contented cat, growled as her muscles tensed, then yelped and almost rolled off the bed when she opened her eyes and saw him there. He laughed and grabbed her thigh, hauling her against him. ‚Mornin’, babe.‛ She stared at him with wide eyes. Wide, confused, still half-asleep-glazed eyes. God, she was gorgeous. ‚Remember me?‛ he asked, teasing her. ‚Paul. From upstairs.‛ There came the color. Bright pink bordering on flame red. It started at her cute little ears and worked its way down to the top of her breasts. He kissed her then, lightly, just a press of lips against hers. ‚I see you remember.‛ She pulled back. ‚I remember,‛ she muttered as she crawled over him. ‚I have to use the restroom.‛ Grabbing her kitty yawning nightshirt from the floor, she made a dash out of the bedroom. Still shy after last night? He finished off the apple and grabbed a kiwi. She really had to get over that shit. He loved her innocence, but didn’t she realize—remember— how great it was when she finally let herself go? He glanced out the window at the brilliant blue sky and wondered if, in the bright light of day, she’d crawl completely back into her shell and stay there with her head tucked in. He tore the kiwi in half and squished one side, the green insides oozing out. He was just sucking it into his mouth with a noisy slurp when Celeste stepped back into the bedroom and scowled at him. She wore that silly nightshirt, but it fell short of her upper thighs. He very much enjoyed the view of her sexy, shapely legs.

‚What?‛ he asked, wiping the back of his hand across his chin where the juice had dribbled. ‚Knife, spoon...you know...eating utensils?‛ She sounded a little...aggravated. He laid the two halves on the plate and sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. ‚I’m sorry. I was hungry.‛ Yep, shell firmly in place. Now, how exactly did he burrow through it in a way that wouldn’t push her farther away? She pressed her lips tight and glanced down his body. Then her mouth twitched as if she suppressed a smile. He quirked an eyebrow. ‚Something funny?‛ She nodded. ‚Care to share?‛ ‚You. In pink.‛ He stood and whipped off the towel, dropping it to the floor. Her face turned red. Maybe her shell wasn’t all that thick. Perhaps it was more of morning-after awkwardness she felt rather than morning-after regret. God, he hoped she didn’t regret anything that happened last night. He sure as fuck didn’t. He stalked up to her. ‚Better?‛ She cleared her throat and kept her gaze firmly pinned on his face. ‚The towel was fine.‛ He grinned. ‚One of us has too many clothes on.‛ He grabbed the hem of her shirt, but she clutched the front and tried holding it in place. ‚Don’t.‛ He tugged harder, but not enough to budge it. ‚Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.‛ ‚It’s morning.‛ ‚And...?‛ ‚It’s morning,‛ she said again, her arms held straight so the shirt stayed down. ‚Morning nakedness isn’t allowed in your apartment?‛ He wrapped his arms around her and palmed her ass. She sucked in a quick breath. He smelled mint on her breath. ‚Paul...‛ ‚That’s my name, baby.‛ He slipped his right hand lower, between her legs, and brushed her pubic hair. She shivered. ‚This isn’t right.‛ ‚You seem to say that quite a bit, but frankly, I don’t believe you anymore.‛ He pulled her tight against his chest, grabbed the hem of her shirt that still hung over her butt, and whipped it up, out of her grasp, until her bare, soft breasts pressed against his chest. ‚Arms up.‛ She shook her head and stared at his collarbone. ‚Arms up.‛

‚No,‛ she whispered. ‚Don’t make me handcuff you.‛ Her gaze shot up to his, her eyes wide and the color of the Caribbean Sea. ‚You wouldn’t—‛ ‚Don’t say it. Don’t dare me, love.‛ His lips curved into a grin as he lowered his head to nuzzle her cheek. ‚Or maybe that’s what you want? You want me to cuff you and make you fall to your knees at my command?‛ The idea had merit. He got half hard just thinking about her on her knees servicing him. She raised her arms, and he laughed as he tugged the shirt over head. Then he bent, wrapped his arms behind her thighs, and lifted her. With a squeal, she gripped his shoulders. He dumped her on the bed and came down over her before she could get away. Then he captured her mouth in a kiss that stole his thoughts and finished the job of sending most of his blood to his cock. Her tongue twisted with his, thrust into his mouth. Her fingers forked through his hair and held him against her. God, yes. What a way to start the day. Trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, he zeroed in on her breasts. So soft, a little plump, the perfect handful. He cupped one as he suckled the other. He moaned his approval when she arched her back and thrust deeper between his lips. Slowly, he pulled back. ‚You’re gorgeous,‛ he whispered as he gazed into her deep blue eyes. As if she fought it, the smile spread over her lips. Her eyes sparkled. It was as though she’d never been told that before—or hadn’t believed it. Her stomach rumbled, and he laughed. ‚Hungry?‛ She nodded. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the orange, started peeling it. ‚I would have cooked you breakfast in bed, but unless you wanted stir fry, this is what we’ve got.‛ He shook his head. ‚You used up all your eggs with the baking.‛ ‚There’s oatmeal in the cupboard.‛ His lip curled. ‚Uh...yuck.‛ After tossing the peels onto the cookie plate, he split the orange in two before tearing off one slice. Then he held it to her lips. She opened her mouth and took it in, chewed slowly, all the while gazing up at him. He wondered what was in her head. What she thought of him. He’d obviously overwhelmed her a bit, but this morning she was a lot more relaxed than last night. He smiled at her and peeled off another slice after she swallowed. He fed it to her, then tore off another, bit it in half, then used the juicy side to paint a wet path around her left nipple. She jerked in surprise and coughed.

‚Sorry. Don’t choke.‛ ‚I know the Heimlich.‛ He laughed. ‚To do on yourself?‛ She nodded. ‚Over the back of a chair.‛ He fed her the other half of the slice then leaned down and suckled her wet nipple into his mouth. ‚Oh...‛ Her hands went back to his hair, and he reveled in her gentle touch. He tore off another piece, held it over her chest, and squeezed, the juice squirting over her from between his fingers. Goose bumps popped out on the upper slopes of her breasts where the cold liquid ran down toward her neck. Leaning forward, he licked the drop before it dribbled off of her body onto the bed. Then he cleaned up the rest of it, swirling his tongue around her nipples, but not touching their tips. She moaned and arched again, silently begging for more attention. After he’d lapped up the juice, he sat back and ate the smashed piece of fruit before feeding her another slice. ‚That was mean,‛ she said after she swallowed. He put another piece in her mouth. ‚What was mean?‛ She chewed fast then swallowed. ‚Doing all that then just stopping.‛ He grinned and fed her the last piece. ‚You like that, huh?‛ She scowled as she ate, which drew another chuckle from him. He reached over to the pile of fruit and grabbed a handful of grapes. First he popped a few in his mouth then looked back at her breasts. Her nipples were puckered hard, standing at attention. She had red patches on her skin, on the upper swells, from his stubble. He liked that he’d marked her, even if it was only temporary. He fed her a couple of grapes. Then he bit one in half. Using his bottom teeth, he scooped out the insides, and then set it over her nipple, the dark red fruit fitting like a little cap. She grinned. ‚What are you doing?‛ He repeated the process with another grape and placed it over the other one. ‚Edible pasties,‛ he said as he leaned down to eat them. She burst out laughing, which stopped him. He looked into her face as the grapes jiggled free of her nipples and rolled to the bed. She sucked in a breath then laughed some more, her whole body vibrating with her hilarity. All he could do was stare. His heart, which he was sure had been hers for months, was suddenly filled with a calming peace he never knew possible. ‚What?‛ she asked, swiping a tear from her eye. ‚I’m not the one who’s lost his mind.‛ She chuckled.

He licked his lips, cupped her cheeks in his palms, and kissed her. Softly. Wanting to taste her happiness. ‚I’ve never heard that sound before,‛ he murmured as he gazed into her sparkling eyes. ‚I’ve never heard you laugh before. It’s...beautiful.‛ Her smile slowly faded, and it hurt to see it go. ‚No. Don’t stop.‛ Her brow wrinkled into a slight frown. ‚Tell me why I’ve never heard it before.‛ He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip. ‚Never really saw you smile until this morning. Why do you keep yourself so closed off?‛ Laying her hands over his, she nudged them away from her face. ‚It’s safer that way.‛ He shook his head. ‚What do you mean?‛ She stared at him for a few long moments then sighed. ‚If I don’t let myself feel, then...I won’t get hurt.‛ His heart cracked a little at that statement. He rolled to her side and gathered her into his arms, the teasing over. ‚Babe. You have to feel. It’s part of life. A good part.‛ She shook her head. Her chest was sticky against his. ‚When was the last time you cried?‛ he whispered, almost afraid to know. She dropped her gaze. ‚Three days after my divorce was finalized.‛ She’d told him she’d been divorced eight years. That was a hell of a long time. ‚That’s not right. Why then?‛ She swallowed hard, the sound loud in the silent room. ‚I received the papers from the court on a Wednesday, saying it was settled. That Saturday, my newly exed husband called, wanting to take the girls for the day even though it wasn’t his weekend, because he wanted them at his wedding.‛ ‚Oh, babe...‛ He cupped the back of her head and held her tight. ‚I cried so hard, I never thought I’d stop. But when I did, I swore to never do it again. It’s helped me through working in the ER. If I stay detached, I’m fine.‛ ‚But you’ve detached yourself from life. You can’t do that. It’s not healthy. You have to laugh, and cry, and experience life.‛ She pulled back and scowled at him. ‚Just when was the last time you cried? Hmm?‛ ‚Three days ago.‛ Her mouth dropped open. ‚I’m not ashamed. Maybe I didn’t boo-hoo slobber cry, but I shed some tears, something you’ve probably not let yourself do.‛ ‚Why?‛ she asked in a whisper. He cupped her cheek. ‚The case I’m on. The murder in Baker Estates. The victim was an eighty-three year old woman who reminded me of my grandmother. The fucker broke into her place, took less than a hundred dollars worth of stuff, and killed her

when she tried defending her home.‛ He choked up just thinking about it. ‚She was a widow. Lived alone. Had very little. And some asshole took her life.‛ Celeste turned her head and kissed his palm. ‚I’m sorry.‛ He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. ‚I see death every day,‛ she said, her voice tight. ‚I can’t let every one in. We live in such a small town, you probably don’t see that much, but I do. If I let myself react to every car wreck victim, every heart attack, I’d never survive.‛ ‚But you don’t let yourself react to anything. Good or bad. Do you?‛ She didn’t respond, but it was as good as a confirmation. He was sorry he stopped her laughter, but she’d shed a lot of light on herself just now. ‚Come on. You’re sticking to me. Let’s go grab a shower, and I’ll take you out for brunch.‛ She leaned back and looked at him with a strange expression. ‚What?‛ he asked. She shrugged and smiled, a real smile, and it warmed his heart that she at least let him into her life a little. ‚A big tough guy like you...using the word brunch.‛ He stood up and then lifted her into his arms. This time, she didn’t seem surprised by the action and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‚I’m not so tough,‛ he said with a grin. ‚I just admitted to crying.‛ She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed as he carried her toward the door. ‚Yeah.‛ As he cleared the threshold, though, he came to a dead stop as two pairs of wide eyes stared at him from across the living room. Two pairs of accusing eyes that were the exact color of their mother’s. ‚Mom!‛ one girl exclaimed. ‚Oh, God, she’s naked,‛ the other said in horror.

Chapter Ten Seeing her daughters standing in the living room was more effective than a bucket of ice water for getting her attention. Trapped in Paul’s arms with him standing there, both of them naked and him looking a lot like a deer trapped in the headlights, didn’t help matters one bit. ‚Fuck,‛ he said, coming out of his stupor. He turned on his heel and slammed the bedroom door closed behind them. ‚Would you put me down?‛ she demanded as she wiggled, trying to free herself from his steely grip. He let go of her legs, and she slid down his body. As soon as her feet touched floor, she shoved him away, grabbed his pile of clothes off the floor, and thrust them into his arms. ‚You need to go.‛ She jerked open a dresser drawer and pulled out underwear. A chuckle stopped her, and she turned to see him standing there laughing, holding his bundle of clothing in his arms. ‚This is not funny. Get dressed, please, and go.‛ He laughed harder. She turned away, jerked on her panties, and scrounged for a bra. Dear Lord, her daughters had caught her during her one and only transgression. Why? Why? Damn it, why? ‚This is a new one. I’ve never been caught by anyone’s kids before.‛ Anger and mortification warred for front seat in her brain. She wanted to...to kick him for finding any of this funny. She shoved open the folding door to her closet, grabbed a blouse and a pair of jeans. This was worse than if she’d had some stranger in her bed, and they caught her. They knew Paul. They’d done everything in their wily powers to get him to notice one of them over the years. Yet, here she was, the one who’d spent the night having hot, tawdry sex with him.

She hopped around, trying to get into her jeans. When she glanced back in Paul’s direction, he was just fastening his pants, his gorgeous chest—the one she’d nibbled and run her hands all over—still bare. He pulled on his T-shirt and grinned at her. ‚This is not funny.‛ She growled as she grabbed a pair of socks. ‚Celeste. Come on now, baby. Calm down. It’s not the end of the world.‛ It might as well be. She plopped down on the edge of the bed and jerked her socks on her feet. She’d been caught, naked, with a man over a decade younger. Caught by her daughters! She shoved her feet into her running shoes just as he bent and picked up his ankle holster from where he’d stashed it under the nightstand the night before. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him to the door. ‚You need to leave now.‛ ‚Celeste...‛ Throwing open the bedroom door, she shoved him through into the living room. ‚Goodbye, Paul,‛ she said with force. He turned on her then, and the look on his face... It caused a physical pain in her chest. He looked hurt, confused. ‚What about lunch?‛ he asked, his tone one she hadn’t heard before. Soft and...unsure. She clenched her teeth and mouthed, ‚Please.‛ ‚This isn’t over,‛ he whispered then leaned in to kiss her. She couldn’t kiss him in front of her kids! She turned her face so his lips just barely grazed her cheek. He pulled back, his brow pulled into a frown, then turned on his heel and stalked for the door. ‚Jessica. Blaire.‛ He nodded at her daughters who still stood in the same spot they’d been a few minutes earlier. They didn’t say anything, but their big blue eyes followed his progress across the living room, and didn’t turn back to her until the door had shut behind him. ‚Mom!‛ Jessica said, a look of admonishment on her face. ‚I can’t believe—‛ Blaire started. ‚Shush,‛ Celeste said, keeping her voice low and even. The last thing she needed was for Paul to hear whatever conversation was about to take place. She grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair and her purse from the table. ‚Let’s go.‛ ‚But—‛ Jess sputtered ‚Out. Now.‛ She ushered them through the door, pausing just long enough to lock it, then followed them down the three steps and out of the building. ‚What the hell is going on?‛ Blaire demanded as they hit the sidewalk. ‚Watch your tone,‛ Celeste snapped. ‚I’m still your mother.‛ They crossed the street and entered the coffee shop. Celeste pulled a twenty from her purse and handed it to Jess. ‚Get me a large coffee, and you can get whatever.‛

Then she made her way to the back of the room, where few people sat, and sat down in a booth to await her daughters. They glanced at her from the counter as they placed their orders. This was why she didn’t get attached to anyone or anything. The guilt that she’d slept with a man her daughters had had a crush on for the last five years—since they were just children. The twinge in her heart because of the way Paul had looked at her when she told him to leave. It was supposed to have been one night, yet this morning she’d started to think maybe it could be more. He’d made her laugh—and it had felt so good to do so. So long since she’d let go like that. He told her she was gorgeous, and she’d believed him. The perfect woman, he’d called her. Lord, she was a fool. She buried her face in her hands and wished she could hide. Her daughters slid onto the bench across from her. She braced herself for whatever they had to say as she grasped her coffee between her palms and inhaled the rich aroma. As usual, Jess was the first to speak. ‚He’s twelve years younger than you. What were you thinking?‛ How the hell did Jess know just how old he was? Twelve years was even worse than ten. Crap. ‚God, Mom,‛ Blaire said, shaking her head. ‚Couldn’t you at least pick someone your own age? What, are you trying to get back at Dad? Trying to prove he’s not the only one who can fuck inappropriate people?‛ Celeste narrowed her eyes at Blaire. ‚You may be legally an adult, but you will not use that kind of language around me. And trust me, your dad had nothing to do with this.‛ Blaire rolled her eyes and slouched in her seat. ‚Next you’ll get pregnant and marry the guy.‛ Seeing menopause was well underway, Celeste figured that wasn’t likely. ‚I’m not going to marry him.‛ ‚So, what?‛ Jess said then sipped her coffee. ‚Was this just some booty call?‛ They were in their early twenties. Maybe honesty was the best thing here. ‚Yes, that’s exactly what it was.‛ Both girls’ mouths dropped open in shock. ‚I’m old, but I’m not dead.‛ ‚That is so gross,‛ Blaire said on a groan. ‚What’s he see in you?‛ Jess asked, and she might as well have just shoved a knife through Celeste’s chest. She sipped her coffee and fought back the pain the question wielded. ‚She didn’t mean it like that,‛ Blair piped in. ‚It’s just that he’s so much younger, and so...‛

‚Hot?‛ Celeste supplied. ‚Yeah,‛ Jess said on a sigh. ‚Look, Mom. I can understand it if you need a guy, but couldn’t you pick someone...‛ She shrugged. ‚He shares that building with you,‛ Blaire said. ‚It’s like screwing someone you work with. It never ends well.‛ Celeste raised an eyebrow. She knew her kids were sexually active, had been for a few years at least, but just as they shouldn’t know who she was doing, she didn’t want to know about their sex lives, either. Not now that they were adults and lived on their own. ‚What if you guys have a fight and can’t stand living in the same house anymore?‛ Jess said. ‚I mean, you own your apartment. Are you going to sell it because you can’t stand the sight of your neighbor? What if he gets all psycho and weird like DeeDee did?‛ DeeDee was the woman her ass of an ex left her for. They were married less than a year when he filed for divorce because she got ‘weird’. Celeste wasn’t sure what happened exactly, but she did know the cops had been called on more than one occasion. She’d kept the girls away from their father until he and DeeDee were officially separated. Now he was on to wife number four—another twenty-something bimbo. The same as two and number three had been. ‚First,‛ she said, ‚it’s not as if Paul and I are serious about each other. Last night was a one-time thing. So stop worrying about that. Secondly, I love my apartment, and I won’t be giving it up, even if he does get weird. Besides, he’s a cop. I don’t think he’s allowed to get weird and keep his job. Thirdly, who I spend my nights with isn’t any of your business.‛ The girls stared at her for a few long moments. Then they both lifted their coffees for a sip. Jessica shrugged. ‚Okay. I just don’t want to be calling him my stepfather. I’ve had too many sexual fantasies about him, and that would just be gross.‛ Celeste really didn’t need to hear that. ‚And you know it wouldn’t work out any better than any of Dad’s marriages,‛ Blaire added. ‚That kind of age difference is stupid. Find someone your own age, Mom.‛ ‚We want you happy. We just don’t want you messing up your life like Dad did. I mean, jeez, he’s paying child support for three kids he doesn’t even get to see. And they had three half siblings they never got to see. She knew that hurt them. ‚I promise I won’t screw up my life like Dad did,‛ she said and meant it. She’d had a slight lapse that morning with all the teasing and sweet talk. She wouldn’t let it happen again. Ever. Even if it had been the best sex of her entire life. Even if Paul was the sweetest, sexiest, most...loving...man she’d ever met.

***** When Celeste returned from a few hours shopping with Jess and Blaire, she sighed in relief that Paul wasn’t home. His car wasn’t in its usual spot outside, and he didn’t come knocking on her door, which she’d feared. His boots were still on the floor in her room, she realized when she went in to pull the sheets off the bed. She picked them up and had the strange urge to hug them. Instead, she took them out into the hallway and set them on the bottom step where he couldn’t miss them. Part of her wanted to leave him a plate of cookies, but she figured that would send the wrong message. She spent the next few hours scrubbing every visible surface in her apartment, doing laundry, and in general trying to keep herself busy to avoid thoughts of everything that’d happened last night. That night, she couldn’t fall asleep, so around eleven she got up to make herself a mug of warm milk. As she sat in the dark on her sofa, she heard the outside door open and Paul jog up the stairs to his apartment. She wondered where he’d been all day. Who he’d been with. Had he thought about her at all? This was why she shouldn’t have given in to her baser needs. This was why she shouldn’t have even let him kiss her. She wouldn’t turn into a stalker and get weird, but it wouldn’t keep her from obsessing about him. She dumped out the last half of her milk and went to her bedroom. She heard Paul moving around his apartment. Then she heard his front door open and close, and she waited for the knock she was sure would come. It didn’t. He left the building. She hated herself for the disappointment that swamped her. Rolling over, she curled around the extra pillow, squeezed her eyes shut, and begged God to let her forget everything that had happened between her and Paul. The next morning, after a night of restlessness, she got up at the crack of dawn, quickly showered and dressed, then grabbed her keys and coat and headed for her car. She could not spend another day stewing in her apartment. So she decided to make the three-hour drive to Chicago and do some real shopping. But when she got there, she didn’t find the nearest mall. Instead, she headed to Navy Pier and wandered through the shops there. When nothing caught her fancy, she bought a hotdog from a vendor, found a bench facing the lake, and ate her lunch. She realized a few things. First, a day shopping alone wasn’t as exciting as it had been when the girls were little and she ached for time by herself. Second, she was a very lonely, sad woman. That revelation disturbed the hell out of her. She’d never thought of herself that way. She’d handled her divorce with decorum, never badmouthing the jerk to anyone

but Sarah. She’d held her head high and only had that one lapse when he remarried so close on the heels of the divorce finalization. After that, she’d done everything she could to finish raising her teenage daughters, trying to be Supermom while maintaining her busy work schedule at the hospital—back then she hadn’t had the seniority and had been stuck with shift work. All in all, she thought she’d done a remarkable job keeping it all together. Her girls weren’t perfect, but they weren’t completely screwed up. She thanked her damn ex for what hang ups they did have. She sighed, tossed her hotdog wrapper in the trashcan at the end of the bench, then huddled down into her jacket. The sky was low and gray, but there was no forecast of rain or snow. Actually, for January, it was pretty warm. And even the wind wasn’t horrible. Even though she’d made it through her divorce, made it on her own for the last eight years, raised her kids the best she could, none of it seemed very important. She made fairly good money with her position as the senior ER nurse on staff. It was her goal to help save lives where she could, and she was damn good at her job. But what, at the end of the day, did she have to show for it but a paycheck? More importantly, she had no one to share...anything...with. Sure, there was Sarah. They’d been friends forever. But they only saw each other twice a month. And her daughters were both attending Northwestern, so they spent most of their time right here in the city. She got a call when one of them needed money. Or they’d drive to Cooper Valley to see her every now and then—unexpectedly and without warning as they had yesterday. Truth was, the girls didn’t need her. No one needed her. She spent every Friday baking goodies, which she turned around and gave to the nursing home, the bread line, and the women’s shelter in the next town over from Cooper. Until she gave Paul those cookies and watched the pleasure on his face as he bit into them, she’d forgotten how good it felt to be appreciated for something she did all the time. She’d always baked for her family. Now they were gone. No husband, no daughters around—and even if they were, they were so concerned about their figures they wouldn’t touch what she made. How had she fooled herself for so long that she didn’t mind coming home every night to an empty house? It hadn’t been sex she was craving when she’d stupidly brought that man home from the pub. It had been connection. Paul had given her that connection. He could have just fucked her and left and not bothered with trying to make her comfortable. But Paul wasn’t someone she could consider for a long-term anything. He was a player. And he was much too young. If her husband of over twenty years hadn’t stayed around, how could she expect someone so young to? Shaking her head, she stood up, shoved her hands deep into her pockets, and headed back to her car.

Sarah had suggested an online dating service a while back. Maybe she should check it out. Lord knew she had to do something to get Paul out of her brain...and her heart. She still couldn’t believe she’d let that happen. But he’d been right about one thing. It was time to start living again. She didn’t want to grow old all alone. Hell, she didn’t even have a cat to keep her company. Then again, maybe she should start with a cat. At least then she might not be sleeping by herself every night.

Chapter Eleven Paul sat on the steps outside his apartment, waiting for Celeste’s return. He didn’t know where she’d gone, but it was nearly seven in the evening, and she had to work tomorrow. She never stayed out past seven on a work night. Except for those Thursdays, she never seemed to go out at all. In five years, she never had, at any rate. He didn’t expect her to start now. He yawned and sprawled, best he could, on the stairs. He hadn’t gotten to bed until well after midnight. He and Tagg had run down some leads and then got stuck at the station, interrogating a witness—which had led absolutely nowhere. Then he and Tagg had been back at it at nine that morning, knocking on doors in Baker Estates, trying to find anyone who heard or saw anything. Tomorrow didn’t look any more promising. So much for his weekend off. The door opened, and Celeste came in, bundled up in her puffy down jacket with a knit cap on her head. She shut the door, checked the lock, then went to her door. ‚Hey,‛ he said as he pushed to his feet and headed down the stairs. She looked up at him with those pretty blue eyes then concentrated overly hard on fitting the key into her lock. ‚Hey.‛ ‚Could we talk, please?‛ She nodded and pushed her door open. He followed her in and shut the door behind him. She took off her jacket, hung it over the back of a chair, dropped her purse on the table, and headed into the kitchen. As if just realizing it, she pulled the cap off her head, and her hair poofed out with static. ‚Hungry?‛ she asked. Not for food, he wasn’t. ‚No, thanks. I ate dinner with Tagg and Carol.‛ She pulled open the fridge and scrounged in there for a while. It didn’t slip his notice that she avoided looking in his direction.

‚How are they?‛ she asked, her tone conversational, as if Friday night hadn’t happened. As if Saturday morning she hadn’t shoved him out the door so fast he’d forgotten his boots. He sat on a stool by the breakfast bar. ‚Fine.‛ She turned with an armload of salad makings. She must have gone shopping because there was more than just carrots and celery. From a cupboard over the stove she drew out a glass bowl then started opening packages. Finally, she glanced at him and frowned. ‚You don’t look so good. Are you okay?‛ ‚Tired is all.‛ He decided he might as well dive in. ‚I’ve been thinking about you.‛ Her hands stalled a moment in their actions, but then she ripped open a head of lettuce and shredded it into the bowl with furious actions. ‚Celeste?‛ She glanced at him. ‚Come on, Celeste. It happened. It all happened. Let’s talk about it, please.‛ She shrugged and went back to work on her tearing and ripping the innocent lettuce to tiny pieces. ‚What’s to talk about? We spent the night together, which was the original plan. It wasn’t supposed to go into the next day.‛ ‚But it did. And I... We... Fuck, would you stop that?‛ He rounded the counter and caught her hands. ‚Look at me.‛ She did, and it couldn’t have been clearer to him that she’d not only replaced that shell, she’d shored it up nice and tight. Her eyes didn’t sparkle as they had yesterday morning. There was no softness in them. Her lips pressed into a thin line. ‚Don’t curse at me.‛ She tried pulling away, but he held her hands tight. ‚I’m sorry.‛ He brushed his thumb over her wrists. ‚Why are you shutting me out?‛ ‚Because I made a horrible error in judgment. I should have never slept with you.‛ She looked him right in the eyes as she said the words. It hurt like a bitch. ‚Why was it an error in judgment?‛ he asked, keeping his voice steady even though he wanted to shout, to curse a blue streak, to demand to know why she was ripping his heart out. ‚Because the only thing that could ever be between us is sex, and I can’t live with that. I’m not that kind of person. I knew better, but I thought I could do it just once.‛ She shook her head. ‚It’s not right.‛ ‚I want more than sex. I want you. All of you.‛ She jerked out of his grasp and backed up until she bumped the opposite counter. ‚No, you don’t. For some weird, twisted reason I can’t even begin to fathom, you’ve got it in your head that there’s more here. There isn’t. Okay? You need to accept

that. I’m too old for you.‛ She gave a humorless laugh. ‚And you’re way too experienced for me.‛ ‚I love you,‛ he blurted out. She blinked a few times as she stared him, lips slightly parted. Then she shook her head again. ‚No, you don’t.‛ He moved toward her, cupped her cheeks in his palms. ‚I love you, Celeste. Don’t tell me what I do or don’t feel. I’ve loved you I think since the day you moved in. You were so damn independent you wouldn’t even let me help you carry your boxes. This gorgeous little blonde with the biggest, prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.‛ ‚Stop it,‛ she said, her voice low and rough. ‚It’s some kind of infatuation with an older woman. You’ll get over it. I promise.‛ He shook his head. ‚Never. I love you. I’ll love you forever.‛ He leaned in to kiss her, to try to convince her, but she ducked under his arm and fled into the living room. ‚You really need to leave now,‛ she said, her voice not as strong as he suspected she’d like it to be. ‚It’s over, Paul. I’m sorry if I somehow led you on into believing...‛ She opened the front door, an obvious indication that she wanted him out. Now. ‚I’m not your ex-husband,‛ he said as he stalked toward her. ‚What is that supposed to mean?‛ ‚He was an asshole idiot for leaving you. I don’t give a good goddamn about our age difference. Do you hear me?‛ He clasped her upper arms in his hands, wanting to shake some sense into her. ‚I know the person inside of this body—a body, by the way, that turns me on faster than any other woman I’ve ever met. I know you, Celeste. You’re scared. You need to open up a little and try trusting once in a while. I’m not going to fuck you over the way your ex did.‛ ‚Yes, you will.‛ Her voice was...empty. No emotion played in her eyes, on her face, and her tone came out sounding hollow. ‚Even if you don’t think you will, you will. It doesn’t work. You need to find a woman your age who can give you a family, children for you to love. I need to find myself a man who’s nice and settled. Not one who will wonder, a few years down the line, if there’s something better out there than the used-up old lady next to him.‛ ‚Would you stop with that shit? Goddamnit, woman, you make me nuts.‛ He let go of her, turned away, and swiped his hand through his hair. When he looked back, she stared at the floor. ‚I don’t want children. Ever. I never have. I’m a cop, damn it, and my dad was a cop. I won’t leave little kids without a father the way he did when he was killed in the line of duty.‛ She glanced up at him, a little light of sympathy behind those bluer than blue eyes, but then she shrugged and looked away. ‚That doesn’t change anything in the greater scheme of things.‛

There was no getting through to her. He’d laid his heart out there for her, and she’d thrown it in his face. She didn’t trust him and never would. It was hopeless. ‚Some old guy isn’t going to give you the kind of loving I can. What? You want some white-haired wrinkly guy to sit on the porch in rocking chairs with? You’re not that fucking old! Don’t you want someone you can have some fun with?‛ ‚Get out.‛ He ignored her order and pressed on. ‚I want someone to go hiking with, to go skiing with. I know you ski, you told me so. Is some old fart going to go and what? Sit in the lodge while you’re out there alone? I want to sit in front of the fireplace with you and sip champagne. I want to hear you call my name as we make passionate love over and over again. I want to talk with you, learn everything there is to learn about you. I want to stop by the hospital and have coffee with you on your break. I want to share my life with you. Can’t you give us a chance?‛ Leaving the door open, she went to the end table by the couch and lifted the phone. ‚If you don’t leave my apartment right now, I’m going to call 9-1-1. I don’t think you want that, do you, Detective?‛ No, she obviously wasn’t going to give him a chance. It hurt, and it angered him. He shook his head and walked out the door. Now he knew why he’d spent years bed-hopping. This was the price he paid for opening his heart. ***** Celeste shut the door behind Paul and sank to the floor. Why did he have to say he loved her? Why did he have to sound so sincere in everything he said? He honestly believed that a relationship could work between them. Lord, it hurt. She’d been so tempted to give in, to fall into his arms. But worst of all, she hated that she’d hurt him. And it was all her fault. She knew better. She’d known from the moment he touched her. From the instant he’d barged in like a white knight to rescue her wearing nothing but leopard-print underwear and tube socks. Where had sensible Celeste gone? Why hadn’t she told him to go then? She leaned back, her head bumping the wall. How did she apologize for this? Make it better? Put everything back the way it had been just four short days ago? Paul had been a friend. Now, he most likely hated her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she listened for sounds of him upstairs, but it was silent. ‚I’m sorry,‛ she whispered. ‚So, so sorry.‛ ***** ‚What’s eating you?‛

Paul glanced over at his partner in the passenger seat as he drove them along the country road to the house of their one and only new lead. ‚This case is a real bitch. We haven’t had a murder in this town in three years. It’s making me nuts.‛ ‚No. There’s something else. You look like shit, and we both had plenty of time to get a good night’s sleep last night.‛ They’d been partners for years. As the only two detectives in the small, Cooper Valley department, and best friends, they were as close as brothers. Paul sighed. ‚I fucked up.‛ ‚Get someone pregnant?‛ Paul snorted. ‚No. You know better than that.‛ He’d always been careful where that possibility was concerned. Tagg shrugged when he looked over at Paul. ‚So, what’d you do?‛ ‚I went and fell in love.‛ Silence. Then Tagg said, ‚I think I need to see a doctor. My ears aren’t working. I think I just heard Paul Jensen use the L word.‛ ‚Fuck you.‛ Tagg chuckled. ‚Falling in love is not the end of the world, partner.‛ ‚It is when the recipient throws me out of her home after I tell her.‛ ‚Ouch.‛ Ouch was an understatement. She’d ripped his heart out. Stomped on it then threw it out the window for it to be run over by a bus. ‚What are you going to do about it?‛ What could he do? She was so hardened, so set in the idea that he would dump her for someone younger, she’d never listen to reason. Probably never again listen to anything he said. ‚Nothing. I’ll get over it.‛ ‚Who is it? Do I know her?‛ He nodded. ‚Celeste Kolowski.‛ ‚Nurse Kolowski? Your neighbor?‛ There was obvious surprise in Tagg’s tone. ‚Yep.‛ ‚Damn, she’s hot.‛ Paul nodded. Too bad she couldn’t see it. Refused to believe it. ‚So, you’re in love, and she’s not?‛ He had no idea how she felt about him. He thought there was a chance she could love him in return, but now... He shrugged. ‚She says she’s too old for me. Thinks I’d leave her for someone younger, the way her fucking ex-husband did.‛ ‚Wow.‛ Tagg sighed. ‚Maybe you just need to... I don’t know... Wear her down?‛ ‚Maybe. Or maybe I should just leave her alone. She actually threatened to call the cops on me when I didn’t leave her apartment fast enough.‛

Tagg chuckled. ‚If it’s really love, and I’ve never heard you even contemplate the word before, maybe you should try a little harder. You know what I went through to get Carol. At least you know where your woman lives and what her name is.‛ Paul smiled. Tagg had gone after the woman he wanted, and now he had a great marriage and his first child on the way. ‚Maybe,‛ he muttered as he pulled the car to a stop in front of a ramshackle cabin in the middle of nowhere. ‚We’ll see.‛ They climbed out of the car and headed for the door. ‚Last thing I need, though, is for her to call the PD on me. It’d be worse than having it get around the station I wore leopard-print underwear.‛ Tagg laughed and knocked on the door. ‚That was pretty funny.‛ ‚Yeah, cuz it wasn’t your ass they were all talking about.‛ Tagg knocked again. ‚Cooper Valley Police.‛ The wood of the door splintered and something hard slugged Paul in the gut, knocking him back and off his feet. White-hot pain shot through his middle, and he couldn’t seem to draw a breath. ‚Paul!‛ Tagg shouted. Then more noise. Gunfire, he realized as he lay on the ground, staring up at the heavy, leaden clouds. He’d been shot. The fucker shot him. His head buzzed like a swarm of bees, and his vision narrowed to a narrow tunnel. This was not how he’d expected it to end.

Chapter Twelve The call came into the ER ten minutes before the ambulance arrived. A member of the Cooper Valley Police Department had been gut shot. The operating room was prepped and waiting. As soon as the ER had him stabilized, he’d go straight in, providing he was reparable. The ten minutes dragged forever as Celeste stood sentinel by the ambulance bay. Dear God, don’t let it be Paul. Don’t let it be Paul. Her prayers went unanswered as the ambulance pulled in, the doors opened, and Liam Taggart, Paul’s partner, was the first to jump out. Oh, Lord, no. The paramedics pulled the gurney out, and one of them recited vitals to the team of doctors and nurses who rushed out when they heard the sirens. One shot to the abdomen. No exit wound. Blood pressure too low. Heartbeat thready. And there was blood everywhere. The EMT with his hand over the wound stepped back as she took over the compression. In a haze, Celeste did what she needed to do. Following the doctor’s orders, running an IV into Paul’s arm, checking vitals and calling them out. She worked by rote. They’d had gunshot victims before, procedures were standard, but every one of them had been hunting accidents. Never one of Cooper Valley’s finest. Not someone she knew. Loved. And then he was being wheeled into the elevator by the surgical team. She pulled off the latex gloves and dropped them in the trash can. Then she saw herself in the reflection of a window. Her middle was covered in Paul’s blood. ‚Will he be okay?‛ She turned to see Beth, Paul’s sister, standing there with an older woman who sat in a wheelchair. She presumed the woman was Paul’s mother. Behind them and beside them were several of Cooper Valley’s police officers. And Liam. ‚He’s stable enough for surgery,‛ she said, trying to stay calm. Detached. As she always was with families of victims. ‚The bullet is lodged near is spine.‛ Her voice

cracked. He could be paralyzed. ‚We have the finest doctors here. They’ll...do all they can.‛ She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t talk about him like this. She wanted to be up in that operating room, knowing what was going on. If he’d be able to walk. If he’d survive. She sucked in a deep breath. ‚There’s a waiting room up on the third floor in the surgical ward. It’s much more comfortable than down here, and the doctors will let you know the moment he’s in recovery.‛ If he makes it that far. The woman in the wheelchair sniffled into a tissue. ‚Thank you,‛ she said, her voice hoarse with suppressed tears. Beth turned to take her mother to the elevator. The officers followed, except for Liam. ‚How are you holding up?‛ he asked in a gentle voice, his midnight blue eyes filled with worry. She wrinkled her brow. ‚I’m fine. You should be with his family.‛ She turned away, needing to get out of the bloodied scrubs, but he caught her arm in a gentle grip. ‚Hey. He told me about... He’s a tough SOB. He’s not going to let this slow him down.‛ There was one time when she and Paul had shared coffee in the cafeteria here at the hospital that he’d spoken of his relationship with his partner. They were as close as two friends could be. The only man Paul had ever considered a brother. Liam rubbed his hand up and down her arm. ‚Really. He’ll be fine. He’s a fighter.‛ ‚The ultrasound shows the bullet very close to his spine.‛ She shook her head. ‚There’s a possibility there’s damage. He’s also lost a lot of blood. I’m a nurse. I don’t let my wishes interfere with the facts.‛ He nodded his understanding, but she could tell from the look in his eyes he didn’t believe her. He believed, no matter what, that Paul would be fine. ‚Liam!‛ They turned at the sound of a woman’s panicked voice. A heavily pregnant woman came rushing toward them. ‚How is he? Is he okay?‛ Liam put his arms around the woman and held her. ‚Shh. He’s in surgery.‛ He kissed the top her head. ‚Oh, God. I can’t believe he got shot. You could have...‛ She burst into noisy sobs, and that was Celeste’s cue to get out of there. ‚He loves you.‛ Liam’s voice made her turn back and look at him. ‚He told me this morning he loves you.‛ He shook his head. ‚I’ve known him a long time. He’s never said those words before.‛ Her heart twisted in her chest, and her breath caught. ‚Excuse me,‛ she said through a tight throat before rushing to the sanctuary of the doctor’s lounge.

***** Celeste went home after work, showered, changed, and tried to keep herself busy until after nine that night before returning to the hospital to see him. She hadn’t wanted to run into his family so, long after visiting hours were over, she snuck up to the ICU and peered through the glass enclosure of his room. He slept, hooked up to monitors and IVs. ‚You were one of his nurses in the ER, weren’t you?‛ She turned to see a tall, young deputy in uniform. His badge said his name was Kearney. She nodded. ‚The doctors say he’ll be fine.‛ Again, she nodded. She’d spoken with the head of the surgical team and knew the bullet hadn’t damaged his spinal cord, hadn’t hit anything vital. They’d had to patch up a part of his lower intestine it had pierced, but it could have been—probably should have been—much worse. Paul would make a full recovery. He’d be back to normal in less than a month, barring infection. ‚You can go in if you want,‛ the officer said then sat down in a chair next to the door and picked up an insulated coffee cup. Hand shaking, she pushed open the door and entered the room. Machines beeped and hummed, but the fact there was no respirator was a relief. He breathed on his own. She went to the edge of the bed and sat in the chair there. Her heart thumped against her ribs as she gazed at him. She wanted to touch him but held back. He was pale, his face drawn. He should have looked peaceful in sleep, but lines bracketed his handsome mouth and marred his forehead. A lump got stuck in her throat. She tried to swallow it, but couldn’t. Her eyes burned. She tried blinking, but it only made it worse. Her vision blurred. Her bottom lip trembled. She clamped her hand over her mouth, but the sob still slipped out. Scalding tears streamed down her cheeks. She jumped up from the chair and turned her back on Paul’s listless body. Another sob came, and then another until her shoulders shook. She tried to keep it in, to shut it off, to shut off her emotions as she’d done for the last eight years, but she couldn’t. Covering her face with her hands, she let it go. She tried to be silent, but she couldn’t seem to control that, either. She moved to the window overlooking the parking lot, leaned against the cool glass, and cried for the first time in years. What if he’d died? What if she’d lost him? She loved him. Loved him. And she’d been too frightened to tell him. To show him.

‚Fu-u-u-ck.‛ She spun around at the anguished sound of Paul’s voice. He was trying to sit up. Rushing to his side, she pushed against his shoulders to hold him down. ‚Shh, Paul. Don’t move. You’re okay.‛ ‚I’m fucking dying.‛ He fought against her hold, but he was so weak it didn’t do much good. ‚No, you’re not. It just feels that way.‛ ‚Don’t lie to me!‛ he shouted, though it came out awfully weak. ‚You’re crying. You wouldn’t cry unless I was dying.‛ His comment almost made her smile, but she didn’t get a chance to correct him because Cheryl, the charge nurse, rushed into the room. ‚Detective Jensen, you need to relax,‛ she said in a smooth, calm voice as she held a syringe to the IV, a sedative, Celeste assumed. ‚We don’t want to rip out our stitches, do we?‛ ‚Fuck that. Get me out of here. I’m not spending my last day lying in this...bed.‛ He eased back against the pillow, his eyelids drooping. ‚Celeste is made of ice. She doesn’t...cry. I don’t want...to...‛ And then he was out. Celeste sank down into the chair, her hand resting on his arm. ‚Sorry,‛ she said to Cheryl. ‚I didn’t know he’d...‛ She shrugged. She’d never elicited that reaction from a patient before. She wasn’t exactly the Angel of Death. Cheryl smiled at her, pulled a couple tissues from the box on the nightstand, and handed them to her. ‚Well, I think he’s right about one thing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.‛ She wiped her eyes, cheeks, then blew her nose. Cheryl had worked in the ER, was her supervisor, in fact, when Celeste started there over ten years earlier. ‚He’s a special case,‛ she said, admitting to nothing more. Cheryl patted her on the shoulder. ‚That’s okay, but you might want to make sure he doesn’t see anymore of your tears, or you’re going to have him convinced he’s in hell.‛ ‚Don’t most of your patients already think that?‛ Cheryl chuckled. ‚He’s out for the night. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.‛ ‚Thanks.‛ She sat there for almost an hour, holding Paul’s hand, stroking his hair. Listening to him breathe. She laid her ear over his heart and closed her eyes. He’d made her feel. Now she had to decide if what she felt for him was real or a matter of him brainwashing her. And if what was in her heart was real, and what was in his was, too, and not just some weird infatuation, she needed to figure out what the hell she was willing to do about it.

Chapter Thirteen ‚You sure you don’t want me to help you in?‛ ‚No. I’m fine.‛ Paul grabbed his duffle bag from next to him and slowly, carefully, climbed out of the backseat of Beth’s car. He opened the passenger door and kissed his mother’s cheek. ‚Stop worrying. Both of you. I’m fine.‛ His mother smiled at him and patted his cheek, even as tears made her eyes glisten. He knew she was remembering when she’d lost her husband almost thirty years ago. ‚I’m okay,‛ he whispered. ‚I’ll come over for dinner tomorrow, okay?‛ His mom nodded. ‚Be careful.‛ He kissed her again before pulling back. When the car disappeared at the corner, he let his shoulders slump and the smile fall from his lips. He looked at the Victorian he’d lived in since he became a detective. For the first time in a lot of years, he dreaded going home. Celeste was in there, probably with her door barred against him. ‚Fuck,‛ he muttered as he climbed the steps and unlocked the front door. The scent of garlic and tomatoes hit him, and his stomach growled. Fucking Friday routine. Baking and cooking. He would have thrown a bit of a fit and slammed the door shut, if he’d had the strength. But he didn’t. Just shy of two weeks in the hospital and he was as weak as a baby. He made sure the door was locked then headed for the stairs. Celeste’s door opened. He stopped at the bottom step. ‚Hey,‛ she said, her voice too soothing for his peace of mind. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and she wore a pale blue dress that hugged her breasts and hips. And she was barefoot. So damn sexy. He swallowed back his hurt and anger toward her. ‚Hey.‛ ‚I made lasagna. I figured after two weeks of hospital food, you’d like something home cooked.‛

Good ol’ Celeste, taking care of everyone. He shook his head even as his mouth watered because of the luscious smells emanating from her apartment. He probably had a lasagna TV dinner in his freezer. He could pretend it was her cooking. ‚No, thanks.‛ He couldn’t sit in her apartment and eat her food and not want it to mean more than her pampering an invalid. He took another step. ‚Please? I’d like to talk.‛ He closed his eyes and gripped the banister. How could he say no when she spoke to him in that gentle voice, asking him so sweetly? Well, she hadn’t wanted to talk when he wanted to talk. He should just walk away. Lock himself in his apartment for the next two weeks until he got the all-clear from the doctor to go back to work. He set his bag on a step and turned around to follow her into her apartment. It was the middle of the day, but the living and dining room were set up with flickering candles, and her fireplace glowed with a warm fire. The low, pewter clouds outside cast the room in shadows that danced in the candlelight. It looked like a room set for seduction. ‚Power’s out?‛ he asked, and realized just how nasty his tone was when she turned those big baby-blues on him. Eyes filled with... God, he was so far beyond figuring her out it wasn’t funny. ‚No,‛ she said as she turned away and went into the kitchen. ‚You can turn on the light if you want.‛ Instead, he carefully shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it over the arm of the couch, then sat down at the table. Two tall tapers had been lit. Two place settings of fine China and sparkling silverware. What the fuck was she up to? He hadn’t seen her since the night before he got shot. He’d been in the same fucking hospital where she worked, and she’d never come to see him. Not once! He balled his fists in his lap. ‚Are you still on any medication?‛ she asked as she sliced bread she’d pulled form the oven. ‚Yeah.‛ He had two days worth of antibiotics left to take. ‚Then I guess the wine is out. I have milk, diet cola or ginger ale.‛ ‚Milk’s fine.‛ ‚I read in the paper that the guy who shot you is the one who killed that woman in Baker Estates.‛ ‚Uh huh.‛ Tagg had taken the fucker down without firing a shot. The asshole was going away for the rest of his life. She brought a tall glass of milk and a basket of bread to the table, then picked up the plates. The scent of garlic wafted from the thick slices, and he took one. Rude or not to start without her, he hadn’t had any real food in almost two weeks.

‚They kept you in an awful long time,‛ she commented as she set a heavy looking pan on the counter. ‚I thought you’d be released before now.‛ He chewed the soft, buttery bread and swallowed before answering. ‚Yeah. They wouldn’t let me out until I took a crap. I didn’t want to eat the garbage they call food, so how could I shit?‛ He expected admonishment for his coarse language. What he got was the sweet sound of her laughter. ‚Why do you think I pack my lunches to work with me?‛ He finished the slice of bread just as she returned to the table with two plates of thick, cheese-oozing lasagna. She sat down across the small table from him. ‚Go ahead,‛ she said. He didn’t need to be told twice. He dug in and moaned as the garlic and tangy tomato sauce touched his tongue. ‚Oh, God.‛ She grinned at him. ‚Glad you like it.‛ He shook his head as he cut another bite with the edge of his fork. ‚It’s very good. Thank you.‛ But why? He decided not to ask. Not until he’d eaten his fill. He didn’t want to start a fight until after he was stuffed. She refilled his plate as soon as he finished the first piece, but halfway through the second, he realized there was no way in hell he could eat it all. He sat back and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin that had been sitting next to his plate. ‚Thank you.‛ She nodded. Smiled. ‚You’re welcome.‛ Her eyes glittered in the candle light. He tried to figure out what had changed in her. Her smiles were gentle and quick. And she’d laughed earlier. He was the one who’d gone through a near-death experience, so why was she the one acting totally different? ‚You said you wanted to talk.‛ She nodded. ‚I do.‛ ‚Well, then...?‛ She stood up and held her hand out to him. Reluctant to touch her, he took it, stood, and let her lead him over to the couch, which she’d repositioned in front of the fireplace instead of the television. When they sat, she was close to him. Very close, their thighs touching, and she didn’t release his hand. His heart thudded a little harder, and he wondered if maybe...just maybe...she’d had second thoughts about tossing him out. ‚You were right,‛ she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she gazed down at their hands. ‚I shut everyone and everything out.‛ She laced her fingers through his then laid her other hand over the top of them, as if trying to keep him from pulling away—not that he’d tried. ‚You scared me,‛ she confessed.

He’d assumed as much. Using his index finger of his free hand, he touched her chin to get her to look at him. ‚You still scare me,‛ she whispered. ‚Why? What are you afraid of?‛ ‚Everything. But mostly of losing myself in you and then losing you. I survived that kind of pain once. I don’t know if I could do it again.‛ He shook his head. ‚I was just shot and could have died. There’s no guarantees.‛ ‚No. That’s not what I mean. I understand your job. I know the risks. I’m referring to you...leaving. I mean,‛ she rushed to add, ‚if you’re still interested. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I just wasn’t ready to hear what you said.‛ ‚And now you are? What changed?‛ She licked her lips. ‚Seeing you covered in blood and at death’s door. Then later, seeing you in that hospital bed, so pale and drawn. I realized that if you died, you’d go thinking I didn’t care. That I didn’t...‛ Her gaze dropped to his chest. ‚That you didn’t what?‛ She swallowed. Raised her eyes to meet his. ‚That I didn’t love you back.‛ He closed his eyes as relief and warmth rushed through him, washing away all the pain and anger he’d been harboring. He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her hair. ‚Why didn’t you come see me? I thought...‛ It didn’t matter what he thought. He’d been wrong, and that was okay. ‚I did,‛ she said, her words muffled against his shoulder. ‚That first night. But you thought... You don’t remember?‛ He pulled back just far enough to brush his mouth over hers. She was so sweet. So soft. God, he thought he’d never touch her again, smell her, taste her. ‚I don’t remember much of anything the first couple days.‛ She nibbled his bottom lip, kissed his jaw. ‚Then you don’t remember me crying?‛ He jerked back but winced when a twinge of pain shot through his abdomen. Damn, he had to be more careful. ‚You don’t cry.‛ ‚That’s why you thought you were dying. Because I was crying. You were sure you were going to die that night.‛ He chuckled and pulled her against his chest, kissed the top of her head. ‚I was a little drugged up.‛ ‚Just a little.‛ ‚You really cried over me?‛ ‚Yeah. And a couple more times since then. I...I feel now. I can’t seem to shut it off.‛ ‚And how do you feel?‛ She sucked in a deep breath and looked up at him. ‚Like I want to sip champagne in front of the fire. I want to go skiing with someone who can keep up with

me. I want to call out your name as you make passionate love to me all night long.‛ She kissed his chin. ‚I want to have coffee with you on my breaks, and I want to know everything there is to know about you.‛ She grinned. ‚And I kinda want to have you handcuff me and force me to my knees—once in a while.‛ Lust, hot and hard, shot through him at her last statement. He groaned as his cock jumped to life and tented his sweatpants. ‚Oh, fuck, Celeste. I’m so not up to that kind of thing right now. No sudden moves, the doctor said.‛ She chuckled and slid off the couch, onto her knees between his thighs. ‚Oh, I don’t know. It kind of looks like you’re up for it.‛ She pulled the elastic waistband of his pants down over him, and his cock sprang free, hard and needy. ‚Celeste,‛ he warned. ‚Shh,‛ she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft. ‚You just sit there nice and still and don’t make any sudden movements. You just sit there...‛ She licked the tip, which made him suck in a quick breath. ‚...and feel.‛ He buried his fingers in her silky hair and watched as her full, luscious lips closed over him. His eyelids drooped at the intense pleasure. ‚God, baby. I love you.‛ Her baby-blues opened and stared up at him as her head bobbed, taking him deep again and again. ‚And I’ll never disappoint you,‛ he promised. ‚You’re the only woman I ever want. The only one I’ve ever loved.‛ She released him with a soft popping sound and grinned at him. ‚I know. Liam told me.‛ Then she took him to the back of her throat, and he thought he’d die of exquisite bliss. ‚I love you,‛ he said again as he sank into the couch and let his woman pleasure him. ‚I’ll always love you.‛ An hour later, the two of them lay in Celeste’s bed naked, snuggled together after he’d managed, with the help of her Mini Rocket and his tongue and fingers, to bring her to orgasm a few times. Paul skimmed his fingers up and down her arm, loving the feel of the goose bumps he produced on her flesh. ‚I have a couple questions regarding this relationship.‛ ‚Hmm?‛ ‚Well, the first one really isn’t a question. We either need to spend the nights in my bed upstairs or get you a bigger one. You’re a major bed hog.‛ She chuckled. ‚Do you think we’ll be spending all of our nights together, or are we just...dating?‛ ‚I don’t want to sleep alone. Ever. Do you?‛ She grinned at him. ‚Then do we need two apartments?‛ He hadn’t thought that far ahead. ‚We both own our apartments, right?‛ She nodded.

‚What if we turned it back into a house? Knocked down a few walls? My view is better than yours up there. We could—‛ She kissed him hard. ‚Okay. But one thing.‛ He quirked an eyebrow. ‚We buy a new, bigger bed. I’m not sleeping in the one you’ve...you know...with hundreds of other women.‛ He laughed. ‚Dozens maybe, but not hundreds.‛ She shoved his shoulder and laughed. ‚What else did you have a question about?‛ ‚Jessica and Blaire.‛ She groaned. ‚Don’t remind me.‛ ‚What’s that mean?‛ ‚They’re both half in love with you—have been since I moved in here, and they met you. I was informed that I couldn’t—‛ She snapped her mouth shut so hard her teeth clicked. ‚What?‛ ‚Never mind.‛ When she tried to roll away, he caught her against him. ‚No. We’re not doing this. Talk. We will always talk about everything.‛ ‚They don’t want a guy they’ve had sexual fantasies about to be their stepfather. But,‛ she hurried to add, ‚it’s not as though we were talking marriage.‛ ‚We’re not?‛ Again, he hadn’t thought that far ahead, but he liked the idea. It would show her he was definitely serious. ‚We are?‛ ‚Maybe not this second, but if we’re talking about combining our apartments into one house, I think this merits a conversation about the long haul. I love you, Celeste. Hell, yeah, I want to marry you, but not until you’re ready. And as for your daughters having fantasies about me...‛ He made a face. ‚Gross.‛ Celeste burst out laughing and threw her arms around his neck. He groaned when she tipped him onto his back and her weight came down on his middle. ‚Sorry. Sorry.‛ She moved to his side. ‚How long did they say until you’re fully healed?‛ ‚Two more weeks.‛ She traced a finger lightly over the scar on his abdomen. ‚Lord, that’s a long time.‛ He chuckled. ‚Not so long. What are you going to tell the girls?‛ Celeste looked up into his eyes, and he saw the love shining in hers. He had no doubts. He prayed he could convince her to never have any ever again. ‚I’m going to tell them that I’m an adult, and my love life is none of their business. They’re adults and therefore, I don’t have to worry about their feelings when picking the man I give my heart to.‛

He pulled her against him and hugged her hard. ‚Thank you,‛ he whispered. ‚For giving me your heart.‛ ‚It was easy after I realized you’d given me yours.‛ She pulled back and kissed him, sank her tongue into his mouth, and nudged his quickly hardening cock with her hip. ‚Ready for round two already?‛ she teased as her hand skimmed down his side then around to cup his balls. He flopped onto his back and sighed in complete contentment. ‚Be gentle, love.‛ The End

Author Bio Anna Leigh has been reading and penning romances for as long as she can remember. After she met and married her very own real-life hero, romance took on a whole new meaning. She now knows married life can sizzle and romance can be erotic—even in her own home. You can reach her at www.annaleighkeaton.com or check out her mainstream romance titles at www.leannekarella.com.