“Not particularly.”

“I decided it made perfect sense.”

“Yeah?” His mouth found the tender spot below her ear.

“We are obviously attracted to each other.”

“Obviously.”

“We’ve kissed three times, and it wasn’t half bad.”

He pulled back, affronted. “Half bad?”

Liv sighed dramatically. “Men and their egos.”

“It’s biological,” he teased, nuzzling her nose-to-nose. “We like to be stroked.”

“I can tell you want to have sex with me.”

“What was your first clue?”

“Well, there’s this.” Liv reached between them and cupped the unmistakable hard bulge testing the strength of his zipper.

He gulped. “He does tend to blow my cover.”

“We’re spending a lot of time together anyway.”

“True.”

“So it makes perfect sense. Right?”

He answered by weaving his fingers in her hair and drawing her mouth to his. It was a hot, invasive, take my breath away kind of cinematic kiss. He lifted his head far too soon and growled against her lips. “Enough talk, Liv. Are we going to do this thing or not?”

She bit his lip. “Take me upstairs.”

Mack looped his arm under her legs and swooped her up just like the night when he’d rescued her from the bar fight. Only this time, she wasn’t arguing. He carried her up the stairs without speaking, his face a mask of purpose. Liv leaned into his neck and nipped at the skin below his ear.

He let out a deep growl, kicked open a bedroom door, and quickly deposited her on her feet in front of a mahogany dresser.

Keep it physical. Nothing more. Liv rose on tiptoe to kiss him, but he shook his head. “Turn around,” he ordered gruffly.

She obeyed and flattened her hands on the dresser. “Am I being frisked?”

Mack’s hands slid down her sides until they reached her hips. With a hard tug, he pulled her back against his erection. His mouth met her ear. “You’re in charge, Liv. Boss me around like I know you want to.”

Yes. This she could do. Play a role. Keep her heart out of it. Let him touch her and make her body sing like the master he supposedly was.

“Kiss my neck,” she said, tilting her head.

His lips were like electricity against her skin, sending sparks down her spine. He lingered there, doing things with his tongue that left her panting in five seconds flat.

Liv covered one of his hands with hers and pulled it away from her hip. Fingers laced, she dragged it along her abdomen and stopped at the waist of her jeans.

“Tell me what you want,” he rasped.

“I want you to touch me.” Was that her voice? Dear God, she sounded like she was underwater.

Mack’s fingers deftly flicked open the top button and drew down her zipper inch by aching inch. She sucked in a breath of anticipation as his fingertips brushed the silky barrier between her sex and his touch.

“Do it,” she moaned.

His fingers shoved aside her panties. The first touch of his fingers against her hot, wet skin made her knees buckle. He caught her around the waist. “I got ya, honey,” he murmured.

It was sweet and tender. Too sweet and tender.

Keep it physical. Just physical.

She moved against his hand. Seeking. Seeking. He picked up the pace, rubbing where she needed it. “Oh God,” she moaned. “You’re really good at this.”

“I know.” He nipped her shoulder.

“Your arrogance ruins it a little.”

“Would you rather I be bad at it?”

She moaned an answer. He bit her earlobe, and she whimpered. He paused. “Did I hurt you?”

Her hand dove into her pants and covered his fingers. “Don’t stop.”

“That’s it, baby. Tell me what you need, Liv,” he whispered against her ear. “Boss me around.”

“Put your fingers inside me.”

He slid two fingers down her wet seam and plunged them inside her. Her nails dug into his hand as she cried out. Her body was the boss now, and he kept a firm arm around her waist as he did what she wanted. She rocked against his hand, and he met the pace of her hips with his thrusts.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, because talking had apparently become as difficult for him as it had for her.

“Yes,” she moaned.

“Tell me how to take you there. Tell me how to make you come.”

“Harder.” It was all she could get out, but he knew what she wanted. He used the heel of his hand to grind against her. She cried out and convulsed around his fingers. Her body went limp against him. Inside her underwear, he laced his fingers with hers. She turned her head and kissed him over her shoulder.

Mack scooped her up in his arms again, turned her, and set her on the bed. She molded into the mattress, her body limp and lithe, a satisfied flush on her skin.

“Now what?” he asked, towering over her.

“Take off your clothes.”

He did it slowly, taking his time to reveal skin and muscle to her hungry gaze. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He had the kind of sinewy muscles that came from jogging and genes, not hours in a gym. His chest was covered in thick, dark hair that narrowed to a thin line until it dipped enticingly into the top of his Levi’s.

She gulped.

He winked. “I get that reaction a lot.”

She shook her head. “I knew it. Your mouth is going to ruin this.”

“You have no idea what my mouth can do.”

“Promises, promises.”

Mack reached for her pants and yanked them off. They shed the rest of their clothes quickly, frantically. Then he lay down next to her, let out a growl, and slanted his mouth wide over hers. Hooking one arm around her waist, he pulled her onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. Straddling him, Liv gasped as the demanding throb of her desire met the hard bulge of his. At the intense pleasure, something took hold of them both, something primal, fierce, and unrestrained.

Mack’s hands slid down to palm her butt cheeks, squeezing and kneading and holding them steady as he lifted his hips in an erotic rhythm against her. Liv gripped his shoulders, dug her fingers into his skin, and rocked against the hard length of him. Their groans merged into one, so she did it again as he slid his hands up the front of her body. His thick, calloused fingers brushed the undersides of her breasts and then higher still until her pebbled nipples strained beneath his hurried exploration.

It wasn’t enough. “I need your mouth,” she moaned.

He leaned forward and sucked one hard nipple into his mouth. Liv let out a cry and tilted her head back, her hands threading in his hair to hold him there. He lavished each breast with attention, sucking and licking until the pressure between her thighs became unbearable.

Liv might have been able to keep it that way—just physical, just her body responding to his body—if he hadn’t paused, if he hadn’t suddenly raised his gaze, if he hadn’t shaken his head and said with quiet wonderment, “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

She might have been able to convince herself this meant nothing if her heart hadn’t turned in on itself at his words, the look in his eyes, and the tenderness in his kiss when he tugged her mouth toward his again.

She might have been able to tell herself to knock it off with all this romantic bullshit if he hadn’t been so goddamned tender. If he hadn’t touched her with a reverence that made her tremble. If he hadn’t smiled at her when he lifted her just long enough to sheath himself in a condom.

Maybe more than anything else that did her in was the smile.

He smiled like he was happy to be there, to be with her.

Like he was happy.

She was useless against that smile.

Liv lowered back to move against his erection. His deep, guttural groan filled her with such erotic satisfaction that she did it again. He responded with another growl and suddenly rolled her onto her back. And then the kissing began again. Slow and sexy. Her legs wide open. His hard erection nestled against her throbbing center.

“Fuck, Liv,” he groaned, grinding against her, and then he was inside her.

Filling her up.

Making her soar, soar so high that she knew in an instant that the fall back to Earth was going to hurt.

Mack passed out.

He didn’t know when it happened or how it happened, but one minute he was basking in the postcarnal glow of the single most exquisite sexual experience of his life, and the next he was out.

And he only knew that had happened because he woke up cold and alone.

He rose up on his elbows and looked around his dark bedroom. “Liv?”

She emerged from his bathroom. Partially clothed.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Going home.”

“Why?”

“We did what I came here to do.”

His first reaction was to be offended, but then he remembered what Malcolm had said. She was going to be vulnerable after this. She was going to pull away. He’d played a role all night, and so had she, and the game continued. So he went along with it.

Mack leaned back against the headboard and pretended he wasn’t pouting inside. “Don’t I even get a good-night kiss?”

She obliged, lingering just long enough to make him hard again. He slid his hand around her waist and tried to draw her back, but she stood. “It’s better for both of us if I go.”

“I definitely need that one explained because I think it would be better if you got naked again and bossed me around some more.”

“It’s for your own good.” She threaded her arms through her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. “I have you figured out, and I can tell that you’re going to need some time to process this.”

The observation was unnervingly accurate. “I can process just as well with us naked in bed.”

She shrugged and shook her head with a pitying expression. “Here’s the thing. If we’re not careful, you’re going to fall in love with me. And I just can’t have that on my conscience.”