She ached for him now. Ached with a power that had her arching as she fought to breathe, as he pulled the boots from her feet and tugged her jeans down her legs.

She was naked but for the bra and panties. Scraps of material that did nothing to shield her from his eyes. And he was looking. His gaze went over her slowly as his hands smoothed up her legs, her inner thighs, parting them as he centered on the wet core of her body.

“You still shave?” He ran the backs of his fingers over the damp cotton that shielded the swollen folds of her sex.

Chaya swallowed tightly. “Wax.”

Pleasure and anticipation tightened his features, and the look caused her womb to clench in response. He was aroused, dangerously aroused. She could see it in his face, feel it in his body.

“Five years.” His voice was guttural. “I’ve dreamed about that one night, Chay, for five fucking years. Tormented by it. Driven fucking crazy by it.”

Her lips parted at the intensity behind the words. To be wanted like that. She had never been wanted so desperately by a man as Natches wanted her. And only once—five years before—had she felt this kind of desire for a man.

Five years. Too long. Too many memories, too many dreams and fantasies to fuel this hunger.

“I—I ached. Every day.” The words came from her, unbidden, the strain from the attempt to hold them back causing a sob to pass her throat. “Natches—you’re going to destroy me.”

His fingers hooked in the band of her panties, and he drew them slowly over her hips with the soft command “Lift.”

She arched her hips, watching his eyes, his face, watching the hunger grow in him and feeling it grow in her.

He dropped the scrap of material to the floor, a grimace contorting his features as he forced his gaze from the glistening flesh between her thighs and stared back at her.

Chaya felt caught, trapped, and it terrified her. The power this man held over her. How was she supposed to fight this? Control this?

“Now for this.” His fingers moved to the front clasp of her bra.

Chaya’s breath caught in her throat as he flicked the tiny clasp open, then peeled the cups back from her breasts and pushed the straps over her shoulders. Her fingers dug into the countertop as she leaned back at the urging of his hands against her shoulders.

“So pretty.” His hands framed the swollen mounds, his fingers dark against her lighter flesh as he lifted them, caressed them.

Calloused fingertips stroked over the hardened nipples. Her womb convulsed, and she felt the damp warmth of her juices spilling from her.

“Natches.” She arched to him, distant memories of him bending to her, taking her nipple in his mouth, flashing through her mind a second before his actions followed her memories.

And the reality was better. She arched and cried out at the feel of his mouth, hot and hungry, devouring her nipple. His tongue lashed at it, rasped over it as he suckled, sending exquisite sparks of pure sensation exploding through her system.

“Oh God, Natches.” Her head fell back as she felt her arms weakening.

As though he knew, sensed her inability to hold herself up to him, one arm curved around her back, tightened, and allowed her hands to lift from the counter as he lowered her, her arms curling around his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh.

His mouth was so hot, his tongue like a brand burning across her nipple. First one, then the other. He sucked at the hard points greedily as she became lost in a vortex of pleasure she knew she could never escape.

“Ah, yes, that’s my Chay.” He ran his tongue in the valley between her breasts.

She shivered at the caress, her thighs tightening on his, her hips undulating at the subtle pressure of his cock head against the slick folds of her sex.

She needed him there. She needed him to take her. Hard. Fast. Deep.

“I missed this,” he crooned as his lips began to kiss a path down her stomach. “Missed touching you, feeling you against me.”

Her back arched as a tremulous cry tore from her.

“Do you remember it, Chay? So hot it burned us alive? So much pleasure we thought we were dying.”

She remembered it. She remembered all of it. Like an inferno blast that she had convinced herself was no more than her need to escape her pain. It had been so much more though. Because it was hotter this time, the ache deeper. It was Natches. His touch was like an addiction, and the need only grew the longer the separation. There was no going cold turkey. No escaping the effect of it.

“Ahh, so sweet.” His tongue licked over the top of the mound between her thighs. So close to her clit. So close she could feel the heat of it, anticipate the wild ecstasy it could bring her.

When it came, it shattered her. Because it was even brighter, hotter, than she remembered, the pleasure swirled through her fear and dissipated it. The need for control evaporated. She was lost in the pleasure, and there was no other place to be. No other place she ever wanted to be.

His tongue slid around her clit, and he groaned against it.

“So sweet, Chay. You taste like summer.”

Her hands speared into his hair, the thick, silken strands twining around her fingers as she fought to pull him back to her.

And he chuckled against her flesh, a dark, greedy sound. His tongue licked slow and easy through the narrow slit so rich with awakened sensations. Nerve endings came fully alert, too close to the surface of her skin, reveling in his touch again.

She called out his name, her voice hoarse with need, begging him to take her. His hands pushed her thighs farther apart, his head dipped, and his tongue filled her. Ecstasy nearly shattered inside her. So close. She was so close.

“Please.” She moaned, feeling her release, so close, almost there. Oh God, she needed to come. She needed that wild explosion tearing through her, the release she had only known one other time, had only known with Natches.

“Are you mine, Chaya?” His voice was a dark, seductive croon, pulling her in as he licked again, drawing her taste to him, stroking her into an abyss of sensation and pleasure.

She would give him anything for this. Be anything he wanted as long as she had this.

“Yours.” She was barely aware of the word tearing from her lips. “Always yours, Natches. Oh God, I’ve always been yours.”

He paused, a short moment of stillness that her breath caught, then his lips surrounded her clit, drew it into the suckling heat of his mouth, to the licking tip of his tongue, and he pushed her over that edge.

She felt the explosion rip through her, drawing her up, arching her against him as a throttled scream left her lips and she dissolved into him.

She melted. For a moment, just for a moment, she felt herself sinking into the very pores of his flesh, and understood that this was where she belonged. This was the addiction that was Natches. To belong to him so deeply that she was a part of him.

And it lasted for an endless moment. Then he was lifting his head, pushing her legs apart, and before the final wave of release washed through her, he began working the hard length of his erection inside her.

“Look at me, damn you.”

Chaya’s eyes jerked open at the command. Dazed, almost unfocused, she stared up at the dark vision of every woman’s sexual fantasy come to life.

Black hair framing savage features, green eyes almost glowing in his sun-darkened face, nostrils flared in desperate hunger as his lips drew back from his teeth.

Raw erotic pleasure tore through her at the sight. This man, this sexual intensity, centered on her. On plain Chaya Dane, and God only knew Natches was more man than she had any hope of controlling.

And there was no need to control him now. Pleasure swamped control. There was no thought of control, only sensation—the feel of him working his cock inside her, the thick crest parting tender tissue as perspiration began to form on his shoulders and chest and run in small rivulets along the center of his body.

“Look at me, Chay.” His voice was deep, hoarse. “Let me see you, baby. Let me see if I’m making you feel good. Does it feel good, Chay?”

Feel good? He was destroying her with pleasure. Her lips parted to tell him, but all she could do was moan his name and stare back at him. And feel him. Feel him stretching her, burning her. She was locked in a grip of ecstasy—it thrummed through her veins, heated her blood and tormented her nerve endings.

“Look at me, Chay.” His voice hardened when she would have closed her eyes.

Forcing them open, she stared back at him. His jaw was clenched, sweat dripped along his forehead and down his face. His shoulders bunched, and she felt his thighs tighten as he pulled his erection back, then worked it into her farther, deeper, taking her until she was trying not to scream, until she was burning around him, and with a strangled groan, he buried himself full length inside her.

Hard hands clenched on her hips as he penetrated her fully, and some dark emotion in his eyes flared.

“Has there been anyone else?” She watched him speak, heard the words and tried to make sense of them.

“What?”

“Other men. Has another man taken what’s mine, damn it?” Pure male dominance flashed in his expression, in his eyes.

Another man? She shook her head; she couldn’t bear another man’s touch. Didn’t want it. Never, ever thought of it.

She shook her head again. “No one. No one but you . . .” She wanted to tell him she only wanted him, only needed him, but as the words tried to slip past her lips, he moved.

As though the admission broke the last of his own control, he was moving inside her, plunging, fucking her with fast, furious strokes that threw her almost instantly into orgasm.

It was like that with Natches. So wild there was no hope of holding on. So hot there wasn’t a chance of not burning alive.

She arched and cried out his name. Her eyes closed, her neck lifted, and she felt him tighten, heard his hoarse exclamation before she felt him spill inside her. Heated, fierce jets of semen spurted into the quaking depths of her vagina and pushed her into another, destructive release, and to an edge of fear. Just the tiniest spark of concern because she knew there was something she should have remembered, something she should fear in this pleasure. A pleasure that left her sated, filled, and somehow, she knew, irrevocably bound to Natches in a way she never had been before.

SEVEN

Natches wasn’t certain what brought him awake just after daybreak. The sun wasn’t shining through the windows yet, and there was a light chill to the air.

At the end of October, it could get cold on the water. His bed was warm though, and he was drowsy and seeking the touch of Chaya’s body when it hit him.

She wasn’t in the bed.

He listened carefully and couldn’t hear her moving on the houseboat or in the shower. Irritation washed through him instantly, as well as a healthy dose of anger.

He sat up in the bed, his eyes narrowed against the gloom that filled the large bedroom as he glanced at the clock.

It was barely seven, too damned early to be up and moving around unless he had actually intended to be at the garage that day. Which he hadn’t. He’d intended to spend the day happily rolling around the bed with Chaya.

As he moved to flip the blanket back, he saw the paper on her pillow and picked it up before reading it silently.Am meeting Sheriff Mayes this morning. I have work to do. Will call you this evening.

She would call him this evening?

He crumpled the note slowly in his hand, and for just a second, only a second, a grim sort of humor touched his mind. How many times had he either written or stated that sentiment, never to return?

Oh, if she thought for a single damned minute she was getting away that easily, then he’d just have to show her different. He’d let her go twice. Third time’s a charm, sweetheart, he thought furiously. This time, she was stuck, and he’d make certain she understood that. Clear to her soul. No matter what it took.

Stomping from the bed, he headed for the shower. If he knew Zeke Mayes, and he did, then sweet little Chaya’s day wasn’t going to begin until after ten. Zeke had his rounds to make, his paperwork to do, and then he headed to the diner for breakfast around nine thirty or ten. Plenty of time for Natches to get ready and reach Chaya’s hotel. He’d drag her back to the houseboat and show her exactly how this relationship was going to work from here on out.