She expected an argument. She waited for irritation, maybe even anger.

Given how wonderful he'd been so far, she should have known better.

His small smile personified sex appeal. "Then let's go, honey. Right now."

God love the man, could he be more considerate?

Logan caught her hand as he stepped away to lead her down the hall. Once inside the room, he went about closing the drapes without her having to ask.

"Okay?"

That was so...sweet. When was the last time a man had been sweet to her?

Touched, her throat tight with emotion, Pepper covered her mouth and nodded. "Yes. Thank you." And then, before he could steal the lead, she went to the foot of the bed. "Do you think we could try something a little different?"

The heavy shadows didn't hide everything. Soon their eyes would adjust. She had to rush things-and honestly, that worked for her.

"Whatever you want, honey." He moved nearer but didn't touch her. "Tell me what you have in mind."

Boy, it wasn't easy to spell it out. She started with the first priority. "I need my clothes on."

"All right."

She heard the click of his snap, then the slow hiss of his zipper coming down.

"You don't mind if I get naked, do you?"

Her mouth went dry. Her heart started pumping hard. "No."

"Thanks." He pushed his shorts down and off, then kicked them away.

A hot, naked, buff temptation stood before her, waiting, expectant, obliterating her priorities. Pepper could hear him breathing, feel his heat.

Smell his unique scent.

Blindly she reached out. In deference to the dark quiet of the room, she kept her voice low. "Do you mind if I touch you a little?"

Replying in the same way, he said, "I'd prefer that you touch me a lot."

Oh, yeah, she'd prefer that, too.

"Okay." Laying her palms over his shoulders, she absorbed the warmth of his flesh, the tautness of his muscles.

Coasting down over his collarbone, she spread her fingers wide, dragging them through his chest hair to his nipples.

His breath hitched, and he shifted the smallest bit. "I picked up a box of condoms."

His abdomen was nice and tight-the muscles getting tighter and more defined as she touched him. "Thank you."

"They're on-" he paused, shifted again, breathed a little faster "-my nightstand."

"Okay." With both hands, she held his erection. Her eyes closed at the feel of him flexing, swelling more. It amazed her that something so firm and solid could be encased in such velvety softness. Using her thumb, she brushed over the head and found a bead of fluid.

Logan whispered, "Damn."

"Shh." Enthralled, excited, Pepper loved the freedom he gave her. She explored his testicles with one hand while clasping his erection with the other. There was just so much of him to enjoy, so much- "You're killing me," he growled.

"You know that, right?"

"It's just..." She wrapped her fingers around the base of him. "I love how you feel."

Moving his hand over hers, he helped her to squeeze tighter, encouraged her toward a slow, back and forth stroke.

After three audible breaths, he asked, "How do I feel?"

Incredibly sexy. Still holding him, Pepper sank to her knees. "Probably not as good as you taste."

"Jesus." He gave a ragged groan and widened his stance.

Sliding her mouth down along the length of him, Pepper savored his taste, the richness of his scent, how he flinched with escalating need.

Lightly, his hands touched the top of her head.

She could have gone on tasting him until he lost control-but suddenly he caught her arms and pulled her back to her feet.

"Logan?"

"How are we doing this, honey? Tell me quick, because I'm on a hair trigger here."

Lost to subtleties and subterfuge, Pepper reached beneath her skirt to pull off her panties. "Get a condom."

As if her words threw him, he hesitated, but not for long. They fumbled against each other in the small, dim room, Pepper attempting to get her underwear off without showing anything, Logan getting to the box of rubbers. She heard him opening the little packet, saw his dark form shifting, and knew what he was doing.

When he made his way back to her, she turned and positioned herself.

Bent over the foot of the bed.

She yanked up her skirt so that it bunched around her waist, then knotted her hands in the soft cotton sheets that carried his stirring scent. Firmly braced, she waited.

Other than the sound of his breathing, silence filled the room.

"Logan?"

No answer. But she knew he was there, behind her. She could feel him standing close, knew he tried to see her, tried to adjust to the immediacy.

If he mistook her intent, it would end, and she couldn't bear that. Emotion closed her throat, thickened her words.

"Please don't ruin this."

His hair-rough thighs brushed the backs of hers. "Tell me what you need."

"You inside me. Just that."

His fingertips trailed over the top of her behind.

"Logan!" If he got too familiar, if he explored her body, she'd have to- Without warning, two fingers pressed into her.

The hot, slick intrusion wrenched a ragged groan from her.

He turned his hand, pressed deep again. Voice gravelly with lust, he whispered, "I want to make sure you're ready."

She was so ready that she just might leave him behind. Every breath grew deeper, harsher. He put one hand at her waist-not caressing or exploring, just...holding. Keeping her steady.

And with the other, he played her.

Made her insane. Pushed her to her limit.

"You're getting close," he crooned, "aren't you, honey?"

She should tell him to get on with it.

She should direct every aspect, keeping him from too much familiarity.

Sex. That's all it could be. Rushed.

Impersonal. Anything more would be too dangerous- He stopped stroking her but left his hand there, his fingers firm inside her.

"Tell me," he said, his voice low and rough. "Tell me you like it."

Oh, God. "Don't stop."

Triumphant, he promised, "Not until you come." With his free hand, he moved her ponytail over her shoulder, while with his other he continued to work her, his fingers sliding deep, twisting, finding hidden spots of pleasure.

Her body writhed with the start of an orgasm, a wave that expanded, receded, pulsed brighter and hotter.

"Logan..."

He said nothing, didn't lose his rhythm-and suddenly the climax grabbed her.

She tried to muffle her groans in the covers, tried not to move with his fingers. But he didn't stop, and she couldn't hold back.

As the bliss finally receded, her legs gave out and she ended up sprawled facedown on the bed. Immediately Logan came down over her, body to body, masculine weight crushing her feminine form into the bedding. He touched her, opened her and filled her in one powerful thrust.

Oh, God. If his fingers had felt good -and they definitely had-it was nothing compared to this.

Balancing on his forearms, his mouth touching her temple, he drove into her in an unbreakable, heavy rhythm. The bed rocked under her; his chest brushed her shoulder blades. Her skirt bunched between them, but he didn't let that get in his way.

Her excitement must've spurred his own, because in no time at all, he nuzzled against her, his face tucked close to her neck. A low, feral growl vibrated against her skin, and he opened his mouth on her shoulder before stiffening.

Knowing it would have to be brief, Pepper cherished the contact. Holding her tight, he closed in around her as he gave in to his release and, finally, went utterly calm and replete over her.

It felt...oddly protective. Entirely too familiar. Way too comfortable.

She could have stayed like that for an hour or a day.

Maybe even a lifetime.

It distressed her that she couldn't spare even a moment more. She cleared her throat. Twice. And still, when she whispered, "Logan?" she could hear the tears in her voice.

Without a word, he struggled up to his forearms again. He took a moment before gently kissing her cheek, and then he rolled to his back beside her.

It was so incredibly tempting to stay put, to turn and snuggle into him, to kiss him.

And have him kiss her.

To start all over again.

If she stayed even a second more, the tears would get the best of her. So instead she scuttled from the bed, slapped down her skirt, and rushed back to his living room where she collected her purse. Seeing through a blurry haze of regret, she opened and closed his door quietly, grateful that he hadn't followed, that he hadn't questioned her, or...even seemed to care all that much.

Choking on her own vulnerability, eyes damp with sadness, she let herself into her darkened apartment.

Now, after Logan, the small, worn- down space felt more lonely than ever.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

AFTER PEPPER LITERALLY FLED his bedroom, Logan continued to lie there, sprawled out, a spent condom still in place.

Fuck.

He fisted his hands, squeezed his eyes shut. At thirty-two, he'd had sex with plenty of partners. Younger women, some more mature. Women looking for a good match and women just out to have a good time at a honky-tonk bar. Wealthy women and women down on their luck.

Hell, he was more than experienced.

But sex with Pepper Yates was beyond confounding and more satisfying than anything he'd ever known.

Clothes on-again.

No touching-again.

Mind-blowing release-again.

How did she do it? What was it about her? She'd bent over the foot of the bed, her rump in the air, and he'd been a goner. He couldn't see her clearly, didn't dare feel the soft flesh of her thighs or hips for fear she'd bolt. And still he'd been wild for her.