But that only made it better. More exciting. More desperate.

She moved her fingertips up over his stomach, over abs that could be played like a washboard in a country band and toward that broad, perfect chest.

“Oh, just take your shirt off,” she muttered against his lips, pushing upward while he tugged the end and hauled it over his head.

Her heart stuttered for a second before racing ahead again as she took in the overwhelming hotness that was Eli Garrett. She’d thought of him as Officer Hottie on first sight, but she’d had no. Freaking. Idea.

Tanned and toned with just a smattering of body hair over his chest and down the center of his abs. Like the path on a map, leading to buried treasure. And she could tell, based on the feeling of his hardness against her, that he was packing some serious treasure.

He pushed the straps on her dress down, exposing the thin, peach-colored bra she was wearing. He swore, harsh, breathless, and moved to cup her, sliding his thumbs over her nipples. She leaned her head back, banging it on the wall. And she didn’t even care.

He lowered his head, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to her cleavage, the desperation in his actions spurring her on, bringing her closer to orgasm with each touch of his lips, his tongue, his teeth on her tender flesh.

Kissing, touching, had never brought her so close. He hadn’t even put his hands between her legs—where she was wet and aching for him—and she was still right on the edge, ready to go over with the slightest touch. Another flick of his thumb over her cloth-covered nipple, another calculated slide of his tongue against hers.

He didn’t do either. He lifted his head and looked at her, dark eyes meeting hers. His brows were locked together, his lips pressed into a line. He looked like a man trying with everything he had to cling to his control. A man who was losing. The moment jarred her, gave her body just enough of a reprieve that she didn’t feel so close to the end.

She moved her hands behind her back, shaking, and unclasped her bra, throwing it onto the ground.

A flame burned hot and dark in his eyes and she could see the moment that all that control snapped. As sexy as it was to see Eli Garrett in full command, seeing him unleashed was even better.

He moved back to her, lowering his head and sliding his tongue around the center of her nipple before sucking it in deep as he moved his hands around her back, slipping them beneath her dress and cupping her butt.

He inched one hand lower, his finger dipping between her thighs. She gritted her teeth in a futile attempt to hold back a hoarse moan as his fingers slipped under her panties, over her wetness, and one pushed deep inside her.

She moved her hands to his back, nails digging in deep as she arched into his touch. Between his hands and his mouth, she was going to lose her ever-loving mind before this was over.

You already have. Might as well enjoy the ride.

That was the truth. But it was hard to regret losing her mind when it had led to the discovery of this.

He shifted his attentions to her other breast while he withdrew his finger, then slipped two fingers across her slick folds, over her clit.

She dug her nails into his skin, and she was pretty sure she might be drawing blood, and she didn’t even care.

He slipped his fingers back, teasing her entrance with partial penetration before he pushed both inside of her. A ragged curse word escaped her lips as her orgasm crashed through her, as she held tight to him and rode out the storm.

When the waves stopped moving through her, he withdrew, shoving his pants and underwear down his thighs, revealing his body to her.

“Damn,” she said, the word tinged with awe.

He smiled for a second, before the expression was replaced with one of total intensity and concentration. Then he bent and grabbed his jeans, fumbling through the pockets for his wallet, and then fumbling through the wallet for a plastic packet that was a more welcome sight than water in the desert.

“I will never mock your sense of responsibility again.”

He opened the condom and rolled it onto his beautiful, considerable length, then he closed the distance between them. “Sadie?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.” He bent his head and kissed her, pushing his hand back between her legs and tugging her panties to the side before gripping her thigh with his other hand and tugging her up against him, the thick, blunt head of his cock testing her.

Then he thrust in fully, a raw sound escaping his lips, the sudden, intense invasion leaving her breathless, leaving her on the verge of begging for more. On the verge of coming again, even though she’d just had an orgasm strong enough to render her whole two-year man hiatus forgotten.

She held tight to his shoulders and lifted her other leg up over his hips, her ankles locked behind him as he pushed her back hard against the wall, his hands holding her hips tight as he withdrew and thrust deep inside her.

“Yes,” she breathed against his ear, biting his neck gently, then licking it as he pounded into her. Driving her back toward orgasm so much faster than she would have imagined possible.

He captured her mouth again as he thrust in deep and she felt the first ripple of a new climax starting to move through her.

Then he put one hand on her breast again, squeezing gently and flicking his thumb across the tightened bud at the center, and she was consumed by it. Pleasure tore through her, and on its heels was a rough, feral growl from Eli as he lowered his head and gave himself up to his own climax, his erection pulsing inside her as he came.

He collapsed against her and her legs slipped down his lean hips, her feet making contact with the floor, her shaky knees making it impossible to stand straight.

She pressed her shoulder blades against the wall, suddenly very aware that her sundress was tugged down beneath her breasts and pushed partway up her hips, her undies askew. And her lemonade had spilled all over the floor, the ice cubes melting on the hardwood.

So many bad choices made in such a short period of time. And it was hard to regret them when her body was still buzzing, her breath was still MIA and she just felt so thoroughly satisfied that for the first time in her life she didn’t feel on the verge of running somewhere else and never returning.

But all of that lasted only a moment.

“Fuck,” he said, straightening and pushing off from the wall, walking back and forth for a second, looking down at the condom, which he was still wearing, a crease appearing between his brows.

“The bathroom upstairs,” she said. “You can use it without walking by open windows.”

He bent gingerly and grabbed his jeans, picking them up and climbing the stairs, and in spite of encroaching regret, she paused to admire his muscular calves, thighs and butt as he made his way to the bathroom.

She was high. On pleasure. On him. And with every step he took away from her, she sank a bit lower. Until her stomach was in her feet.

She wasn’t needy after sex. It was not her thing. But she needed something more than this. Something more than a curse and his naked back as he left her.

The bastard. He was post-orgasmically uptight, which was a commitment to crabbiness that seemed almost impossible to maintain.

But Eli was incredible that way.

And in other ways.

The man was built. He’d just proved that the size of the boat had a lot to do with how the motion of the ocean felt, that was for sure.

Under normal circumstances she would feel...triumphant. He was, without a doubt, the single hottest guy she’d ever been with. Not that there had been a lot, but she’d never been too worried about it. It was all casual.

The trade-off with Eli seemed to be that nothing about it felt casual. Amazing, cataclysmic sex, with a side of angst.

Gah, and no thank you.

She preferred no angst to multiple orgasms.

Lie, lie, you lie. That was the best sex of all time. It’d be worth waxing both your eyebrows off in their entirety to experience that again.

Meh. Why did her internal voice have to know her so well? She heard footsteps on the stairs again about the time she realized she was still standing there half-dressed. She scrambled to get her dress pulled into place, kicking her bra into the corner.