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  “You asked me to do it until you screamed my name.”

  “I’ve never…” She broke off and squirmed a little on the couch. Her skin felt too tight, and her heart was thudding against her ribs. “Some of that would be…new.” Some, as in all.

  He looked at her for a long beat, then moved back to her. Slowly he crouched at her side and tugged playfully on the tie. “Go to bed, Rainey. Alone. Drink the water and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Right. She nodded and closed her eyes.

  She heard him move away, but the door didn’t open. So she opened her eyes and found him standing in front of it, his hand on the doorknob, head bowed against the wood.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Trying to make myself leave.” He lifted his head. “Because tomorrow you’re going to remember that you don’t like me, and I’m going to want to kick my own ass for not sticking around while you do.”

  In her tired state, that somehow made sense. Sad, sad sense. “You’re right. Tomorrow I’ll probably go back to being an uptight, bitchy control freak.”

  He smiled. “You’re not bitchy.”

  “Just an uptight control freak?”

  “Well, maybe a little.”

  She laughed. Laughed. And suddenly, she didn’t want him to leave. She really really didn’t. What she did want was him. Again. She wasn’t sure exactly why she was still so attracted to him, but she had a nice buzz going and decided it was okay not to think about it right now. So she stood up.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Instigating again.” She climbed up on the coffee table. She wasn’t sure why she did it exactly, except maybe because he was tall and sure and confident, and she needed to be those things too. Plus it just seemed like a striptease should be done from a tabletop. Reaching behind her, she unzipped her dress.

  “Rainey.”

  His voice was hoarse, and very very serious, and ooh, she liked it.

  She liked it a lot.

  “You need to stop,” he said, sounding very alpha.

  She liked that too. She wondered if he’d boss her around when they got into bed.

  She kind of hoped so.

  She let the little straps slip off her shoulders, holding the material to her breasts. She thought she was being sexy as hell, so his telling her to stop confused her. “Why?”

  “I’m not having drunk sex with you.”

  “I’m not drunk.” She let the dress slowly slip from her breasts, revealing her pretty black lace push-up bra.

  Mark appeared to stop breathing. “Rainey—”

  “Whoops.” She let go of her dress. “Look at that....” She’d planned the dress sliding gracefully down her body to pool at her feet, but that’s not what happened. It caught on her hips. She tried a little shimmy but her heels were much higher than her usual sneakers. Which meant that her ankle gave and she tumbled gracelessly to the floor.

  “Jesus.”

  She heard Mark drop to his knees at her side, felt his hands run over her body. She could also feel that her dress had bunched at both the top and the bottom, ending up around her waist like a wadded belt. Probably she wasn’t looking as sexy as she’d hoped.

  “Rainey.”

  There was both a warning and a sexy growl to his voice, so she lay there, eyes closed, playing possum with those big, warm hands on her.

  You just executed the most pathetic striptease ever, you idiot.

  “Rainey.”

  She scrunched her eyes tighter, wondering what the chances were that he’d believe she’d died and would just go away.

  “Dead women don’t have hard nipples,” he said, sounding amused. “Or wet panties.”

  With a gasp at his crudeness—and her body’s traitorous reaction—she sat straight up and cracked her head on his chin.

  He fell to his ass at her side and laughed, and when he straightened up, she shoved him. Staggering to her feet, she took stock. Now her dress was around her ankles. Perfect. Nice work on bringing the sexy. Turning away from him, she weeble-wobbled across the living room, dragging the dress behind her, limping on her left ankle.

  From behind her, Mark made a sound that told her either he liked the view or he’d swallowed his tongue. She tried not to picture what she looked like as she went to her bedroom and slammed the door on his choked laugh.

  Bastard.

  Her ankle was really burning now. She probably needed ice, but since that meant walking back out there, she’d do without. Somehow—she wasn’t sure how exactly—this was all Mark’s fault. In fact, she was positive of it.

  Crawling onto her bed, she proceeded to cover her head with her pillow, where she planned to stay forever and pretend the entire evening had been a bad dream.

  8

  RAINEY CAME AWAKE slowly and lay very still, trying to figure out why she felt like she wasn’t alone. What had she done last night? The ballet. Jacob. The wine. Mark… The entire evening came crashing back to her, and eyes still closed, she groaned miserably. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes,” said an amused male voice. Mark, of course.

  Her eyes flew open. It was morning, which she knew because the sun was slanting in the windows across her face, making her eyeballs hurt. Mark was lying on top of her covers, head propped up on his hand, casual as he pleased. He wore only his slacks, unbuttoned, and was sprawled out for her viewing pleasure, all lean, hard planes and—

  No. Stop looking at him. “What are you doing here?”

  He leaned over her, and utterly without thinking, she ran her hands up his back with a little purr of sheer pleasure.

  Mark went still, staring down at her in rare surprise while his arm kept moving, grabbing a mug of steaming coffee from her nightstand. “I just wanted to make sure you were alive before I left,” he said.

  She forced her hands off him and tried to pretend she hadn’t opened her legs to let him slip between them. She took the proffered coffee and drank away her embarrassment. “Thanks,” she finally murmured, setting the mug down. Then casually lifted the covers to peek beneath.

  She was still in her black lacy bra and panties. And his tie…

  No heels.

  Her left ankle was propped on a pillow with an ice pack. Ah, yes. Her oh-so-sexy striptease.

  Mark had taken care of her. While she processed this, he rolled off the bed. She stared at his bare chest and felt the urge to lick him from his Adam’s Apple to those perfect abs. And beyond too, down that faint silky happy trail to his—

  “I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain, but you need to wrap it.” He nodded to a still plastic-wrapped Ace bandage next to the coffee on the nightstand. “Figured you’d want to shower first.”

  Mouth dry, she nodded and very carefully sat up. He watched her as he reached for his shirt hanging off the back of her chair and shrugged into it. He tucked his shirt in, adjusting himself in the process before fastening his pants.

  She swallowed hard at the intimate moment. “Thanks,” she said. “For bringing me home.”

  He had a faint smile on his face as he studied her expression. “Anytime.”

  “I’m sorry if I was…a handful.”

  A small smile touched his lips. “Like I said. Anytime.”

  With a deep breath, she got out of the bed. She figured he’d turn away and give her a moment of privacy, but he didn’t. He might not sleep with buzzed women, but he had no problem looking. He looked plenty as the sheet fell away.

  “Pretty,” he said, and came close when she winced at the weight on her ankle. Lifting her up, he carried her into the bathroom.

  “I think I can manage from here,” she said.

  “Are you sure? I’m good in the shower.”

  Since he was good at everything, that wasn’t a stretch. But she was definitely not at her best. “I’m sure.”

  With a slow nod, he left her alone.

  Stripping off her bra and panties, she limped to the shower, turned it on, then proceeded to smack her ankle getting
in. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch. Dammit.”

  And then suddenly Mark was back, whipping aside the shower curtain, expression concerned. “You okay?”

  Was she? She had no idea. She was standing there, naked, wet. Naked. Lots of things were crowding for space in her brain, and oddly enough, not a one of them was embarrassment. “I’m instigating again,” she whispered, and tugged him into the shower, clothes and all.

  Without missing a beat, as if crazy naked women dragged him into their showers every day, his arms banded around her. His hair, dark brown and silky and drenched, fell over his forehead and nearly into his equally dark eyes. He clearly hadn’t shaved and his jaw was rough with at least a day’s growth. His shirt was so wet as to be sheer, delineating every cut of every muscle on him. And there were a lot of muscles. He looked lethally gorgeous, and was lethally dangerous to her mental health as well, especially since all she could think about was ripping off his clothes to have her merry way with him. “Mark?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m naked.”

  One big, warm hand slid down to her butt and squeezed. The urge to lift her legs around his waist was so shockingly strong, she had to fight to remain still. “I’m naked,” she said again. “And you’re not.”

  “That could be fixed,” he said, volleying the ball into her court, leaving the decision entirely up to her. He waited with the latent, powerful patience of a predator who had its prey cornered.

  “You turned me down last night,” she pointed out, smoothing a palm down his chest, taking in every well-defined muscle before sliding her hands under his shirt. “I’m not sure I could take a second rejection.”

  “Are you still under the influence?”

  “No. Was that your only barrier?”

  His eyes were two fathomless pools of heat. “For now.”

  “Then please,” she whispered, lending her hands to the cause, tugging up his shirt. “Please fix your not-naked status.”

  With quick, smooth grace, he stripped out of his clothes, discarding them in a wet heap on the floor. God, he was so damn gorgeous. And that’s when she knew. Even though she’d made the rules to keep herself from drowning in him, she was in over her head and going down for the count.

  MARK STOOD THERE with Rainey in his arms, the water running down them, the air steamy and foggy, unable to believe how good she felt against him. She was looking at his body, and getting off on it—a fact he greatly appreciated because he enjoyed looking at her, too. So much he was currently hard enough to pound nails. “Are you going to instigate again?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” she said, water streaming over her in rivulets. “But for the record, this isn’t about liking each other.”

  He traced the line of her spine down to her ass, slipping his fingers in between her legs, nearly detonating at the wet, creamy heat he found. “Because you don’t. Like me,” he clarified.

  “Right.”

  He ignored the odd pang at that, and tipping her face up to his, he kissed her, kissed her long and deep and wet, until she was clutching at him, making soft little whimpers for more, and he’d damn well lay money down that she liked him now. He had no business caring one way or the other, but suddenly he wanted her to. Very much. “We can work on the like thing,” he said. “We could start small.”

  “Yes, well, there’s nothing small about you.”

  Laughing softly, he went on a little tour, kissing his way down her throat, over her collarbone, to a breast. Her nipples were tight, already hard when he ran his tongue over a puckered tip. “How about this, Rainey? Do you like this?”

  She let out a barely there moan but didn’t answer.

  “Tell me.” Sucking her into his mouth, he teased and kissed, absorbing her sexy whimper, but when she still didn’t speak, he stopped and looked at her.

  Her head was back, eyes closed, water streaming over her, so beautiful she took his breath.

  Unhappy that he’d stopped, she lifted her head.

  “Say it,” he said.

  “I liked that,” she whispered.

  “Good. How about this?” He gently clamped his teeth on her nipples and gave a light tug.

  This ripped a throaty gasp from her and she tightened her fingers in his hair. “Mark—”

  “Yes or no, Rainey?”

  “Yes!”

  “Okay, good, that’s real good. Now let’s see what else you like.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “No, we’re addressing the problem, as you so smartly suggested.” Dropping to his knees, he worked his way down her torso, kissing each rib, dipping his tongue into her belly button, making her squirm. “How about this,” he asked. “Do you like this?”

  When she said nothing, he once again stopped.

  “I liked that!” she gasped, her hips rocking helplessly. “Please, don’t stop.”

  Gripping her hips, he held her still and moved lower, pressing his mouth to her belly, then lower still, hovering right over her mound.

  Above him, she stopped breathing.

  With a smile, he reached up and extricated one of her hands from his hair, placing it against the tile wall at her side so she’d be better balanced.

  “Mark—”

  “And this? Do you like when I do this, Rainey?” He kissed her thigh, her knee.

  “Y-yes,” she whispered shakily. “I like that.”

  He gently kissed that same spot again, running his palm up her belly to graze a breast. “I’m glad.” Carefully, he gripped her foot with the slightly swollen ankle and lifted it to the tub’s ledge, which opened her up to him and gave him a heart-stopping view.

  “Mark—”

  Unable to resist, he leaned in and kissed first one inner thigh, and then the other.

  And then in between.

  “Yes,” she gasped before he’d even asked, making him smile against her as his heart squeezed with a myriad of emotions so strong it shocked him. Affection, warmth, amusement and heat. There was so much heat, he could come from just listening to the sounds she made. He kissed a slow trail over her center, lingering in the spots that made her cry out. She took her other hand out of his hair and slapped it against the opposite wall so that both hands were straight out, bracing her, and still he felt her legs quiver.

  “Oh, God—” Apparently unable to say more, she broke off, panting for breath.

  Loving the taste of her, he parted her with his fingers, using his tongue, his teeth, to take her even higher, then closed his mouth over her and sucked, slipping first one finger and then another into her.

  “Mark!”

  Yeah, she liked that. And he loved the sound of his name on her lips. He wanted more. He wanted it all, which he realized just as she came, panting and shuddering for him, whispering his name over and over as she did.

  RAINEY WOULD HAVE surely fallen to the floor of the shower if Mark hadn’t caught her. She’d warned herself to hold back but that had proved difficult if not impossible. Still trembly and breathless, she found herself pressed between the cool hard tiles at her back and a hot, hard Mark at her front, the shower still