His briefs were off and he rolled back toward her on his side.

Her question was answered. Oh, G.o.d, that thing was astonishing. Trish gulped.

"Yes, I'm proportionate."

"I see."

"I know you claimed I'm a freak of nature, but honestly, Trish, I'm not that big."

She'd be the judge of that. "You look like you take your vitamins to me." Ripping her eyes off of his fully engorged p.e.n.i.s, she slid closer to him, licking her tongue across his chest. "I'm impressed."

"I won't hurt you."

Closing her mouth around his nipple, she sucked, her fingers digging in his chest hair. "Put a condom on, Caleb. Before I throw a temper tantrum."

He went still. "I don't have any condoms. I...I just don't."

A thousand angry no's went screaming through her head. Then she picked her head up off his chest and dragged her thigh off of his as hope restored itself. She resisted the urge to grind herself against him and sat up. "Don't panic. I think I might have some."

Crawling off the bed, she rushed across the room to her dresser. "My friend Ashley decided to become a Pleasure Party consultant a few months ago."

"What's a Pleasure Party consultant?"

"Someone who sells s.e.x toys. Officially, they call them romance-enhancing products, but they're really s.e.x toys." Trish dug through the drawer. "Come on, they've got to be in here. I was trying to support her, you know, so I bought some lingerie and stuff and condoms."

Her hand closed over them. The condoms had been a joke. Because they were glow-in-the-dark pink.

But they were fully functional.

She ripped a row out of the box.

And turned and collided with him. "Oh! I didn't know you were so close."

Hitting that much immobile man sent her bouncing back into her dresser, and she nearly took a handle in the b.u.t.t before Caleb steadied her. With hands that were now sliding across her backside and making interesting little crossroads into her inner thighs.

All while that impressive erection nudged her in the belly.

"Condom," she said, holding the packets up in front of his chin before he distracted her with his talented tongue, currently running along her neck.

He took them and moved out of her s.p.a.ce. Dammit.

Caleb ripped the pack open and got one out. And dropped it.

"Holy s.h.i.t. It's pink, Trish!"

"Novelty condoms." She shrugged.

"I can't slap a pink rubber on my d.i.c.k." The look of horror on his face made her laugh.

"It's not like I'm going to doubt your masculinity." Unable to stop herself, she wrapped a hand around him and stroked. No, no question there. "Come on, it's this or it's nothing. I don't have any other ones."

He was tense, grinding his teeth together. But it didn't take him long to decide. He bent over and retrieved the pack, knocking her hand off him with the motion.

"Don't laugh."

"Of course not." Hilarity was not the overriding reaction his presence brought on.

Turning slightly from her, Caleb rolled on the condom.

"Need some help?" Trish asked, fingers itching to lend a.s.sistance. She should be shocked at herself. She'd never been quite so voracious about sleeping with a guy before.

But a.n.a.lyzing her rioting emotions wasn't top on her to-do list right now.

"I got it, thanks." Caleb turned back, an endearing and adorable stain on his cheeks-Trish glanced down-that matched the hue of the condom sheathing him.

Five.

He was wearing a pink condom and Trish was laughing. Somehow this wasn't the way Caleb had pictured events playing out.

Hands on his hips, he grimaced and fought the urge to cover himself with one of Trish's red pillows. "You said you wouldn't laugh."

She covered her mouth. "I didn't mean to." She struggled to wipe the grin from her face. "Sorry. Okay, I've got it."

Then she glanced down and nearly suffocated herself trying to hold in a laugh, fingers pinching her nose.

Granted, he was a little embarra.s.sed. The thing was pink. Shocking pink, not-found-in-nature pink. But he was still turned on, and watching Trish was a joy. She was so direct, honest, so up-front about what she was thinking and feeling, and he liked seeing her laugh, especially since she was doing it naked.

"It's not really your color."

What would be, he wondered. "I can take it off," he said, brushing his thumb over her nipple.

Her laugh cut off on a thin moan. "No, you can't do that. Don't worry about its color, pretend it's just normal." Fingers clung to his arms. "Better yet, just-hide it."

When her breath hitched like that and she got that excited, aroused look of antic.i.p.ation on her face, he thought he could wear a spotted or floral condom and not give a c.r.a.p. At least, the spotted. Floral would probably be too much to handle with a straight face.

"Where should I hide it?" Caleb pressed against her body, before giving in to impulse and lifting her into his arms.

"Whoa!" she shrieked, grabbing at him. "I wasn't expecting that."

"I'm hiding the condom from your view." Caleb bounced her a little, adjusting her in his grip, her bottom nestled against his abdomen, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushing over his chest in a torturous tease.

"Really? Well, I had a better way to hide it than this."

He just bet she did. "I'm taking you to the bed, so you can show me."

"Perfect."

She was. When he laid her down on her crisp white sheets, the red bedcover piled on the floor, he forgot about pink condoms, and without any thought or plan or warning, pushed inside her moist opening.

Caleb held still, pleasure pulsing through him. Her hot little body writhed under him and tight, moist walls clamped down on him, making him grit his teeth.Holy s.h.i.t . He'd forgotten how good it felt to be in a woman, how much he'd missed it.

But he didn't want to finish before he started. And he didn't want to crush her with the weight of his body, so he held himself over her and pulled back for a nice, long, slow stroke, savoring the snap of acute ecstasy in his nerve endings.

"More."

Another thrust. Another demanding "more" from Trish. Pausing, Caleb stared down at her, thrown off his game, not sure what she was really asking for.

"What..." he trailed off when she pushed on his chest.

"You're holding back," she accused, giving another little shove.

"I don't want to hurt you." Neither did he want to be talking. He stared at her in confusion.

"You won't. Now get on your back."

For a second he just lingered there, half in her, half out, feeling like a gigantic goofball who didn't know how to please a woman. Then because he wasn't sure what else to do, he rolled onto his back, Trish gripping his arms and following him, until she wound up on top of him.

A bolt of l.u.s.t shot through him.

It had possibilities.

Trish splayed her hands on his chest and arched her back. "You've got to understand something about me. I'm not a nice girl. I send men to prison every day and I enjoy it. And when I want something, I really want it."

She moved, lifting off and on him, with sure, confident strokes, and Caleb couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was gorgeous-mouth open, eyes glazed with pleasure as she rode his c.o.c.k slowly at first, then increasing in speed.

"And I...want...you."

Her carefully painted nails dug into her mussed, but still stylish, hair as she went up and down with frantic thrusts.

Caleb held the small of her back, fought to keep his eyes open. "You've got me, gorgeous."

She was smooth, slick over him, pushing herself down so hard that he went deep inside her, and the little bud of her c.l.i.toris pressed into his pelvis. It was almost too much, too fast, sensation winging through him, and he knew he couldn't stand that hot, wet friction much longer.

But without warning, Trish dropped her hands onto his chest, eyes wide, and convulsed against him in an urgent o.r.g.a.s.m, so d.a.m.n s.e.xy that Caleb gave up holding off and joined her.

He heard his own moan rushing past his ears, forced himself not to maul her too hard as his body jerked in its release, hard and satisfying. It went on for a good, long, hot minute, and when he finally relaxed back against the pillow, exhausted and satisfied, Trish gave a throaty laugh.

"My sentiments exactly." And she draped herself across his chest with a sultry sigh.

While he liked having her there, he knew he was sweating, and probably smelled rank. He gave her a gentle nudge. "You don't want to lay on me, I'm all sweaty."

"So?" Trish played with the ends of his hair and yawned. "After we take a nap we can hop in the shower together."

With an enticing little lift of her hips she moved off of him, then resettled on his thigh. "But first, I have to sleep. It's hard to settle into good REM sleep when you're o.r.g.a.s.ming."

Caleb laughed and wrapped his arm loosely around her. But instead of sleeping, he tugged off the pink condom and listened as Trish's breathing evened out. Wonder stole over him at how amazing she was, and how right she felt in his arms.

Trish was fascinating. She didn't care that he was sweaty, she talked casually about her s.e.x dream, and already had a shared shower planned.

He liked it.

Sleeping across a hard, naked man was therapeutic. Trish woke up rested and satisfied, more relaxed than she'd felt in months. She stretched her legs and snuggled back into his chest, glancing up to check him out. Caleb, the little cutie, was still asleep, a small snore emitting from his mouth.

Trish really thought he was just absolutely adorable, which struck her as funny. The man was huge, and yet she was constantly pulling out adjectives likecute ,sweet , andadorable to describe him. But he was.

He was probably one of the nicest guys she'd ever met, which maybe didn't say much for the company she'd been keeping. But Caleb was just a good, solid, loyal kind of guy who worried that he might hurt her, and she might be interested in exploring where the whole thing could go beyond her bedroom.

Except that she didn't cook, didn't own anything applique, was ambivalent about children at this point, and worked relationship-killing hours. Not exactly marriage-making material.

So that left her this morning to enjoy Caleb.

She tickled his ribs.

He jerked in his sleep, making an "unnnn" sound of protest, but didn't open his eyes.

Trish shifted a little, found his p.e.n.i.s, and stroked it.

This jerk was enough to almost knock her off his chest. Green eyes locked with hers. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you a hand job." That hadn't been her original intent, but he felt pretty dang good beneath her fingers. "But I've been going for like ten minutes now and my hand's tired," she teased. "So I'd better stop."

He groaned. "Next time, wake me up first so I can enjoy it."

Next time. The fact that it pleased her to think there would be one had her sitting up, annoyed with herself. She'd just given herself theGet A Grip lecture and here she was, already fantasizing about waking up like this with Caleb every day.

Yet she couldn't quite make herself pull her hand off of him, not since he'd grown gratifyingly hard. Then Caleb sat up next to her. "Can you hold that thought, gorgeous?"

He shifted out of her touch. She was momentarily miffed until he yawned and rubbed his hand over his stubbly chin. "I really want to revisit what you're doing in like two minutes, but first...where's your bathroom?"

"To the right. Want me to make some coffee?"

He smiled and cupped her cheek. "That would be great, thanks."

Then he stood and walked across her bedroom toward the door, gloriously naked, muscles rippling. Was it her imagination or had her ceilings shrunk? He filled her apartment and made it seem small, poky. She'd lived there two years and was really happy with the place. She had two bedrooms and an office, lots of windows and extensive woodwork and molding, which had all been painted white, setting off her red furniture to advantage. But the minimalist decorating and the sharp edges screamedsingle woman to her, for some reason, and Caleb looked odd surrounded by her things. He needed st.u.r.dier furnishings. Pine, cedar.

Trish dug a pair of red boy-short panties from her burgeoning lingerie drawer and pulled them on, along with a tight white T-shirt that claimedANGEL across the front. She had ordered it at Ashley's Pleasure Party and had meant to check the box "Princess," but somehow had checked the one below it and had wound up "Angel." Which wasn't exactly something she aspired to. But Ashley had given her c.r.a.p when she'd asked to exchange it, so she'd have to be an Angel.

She rescued the condoms from the floor where they had dropped and set them on the nightstand. Just in case. Easy access. Then at the last minute tucked another one in the waistband of her panties. She liked to be prepared.

Caleb appeared in the door. He glanced at her chest. "Angel?" he asked dubiously.