"I got great tips. The closer we get to the holidays the more people drink and the freer they are with their wallets." He kissed her some more, rolling just slightly on top of her so she could feel his erection against her thigh. "How's it going in the kitchen? Much more to do?"

As his thumb stroked her cheek, his gaze turned gentler, more loving, and she lost the ability to speak. She just shook her head. He smiled and brought his mouth back to hers, this time letting himself go, kissing her deeply. His tongue stroked into her mouth, licking, coaxing her tongue into play. God, he was such a sensuous kisser. She drove her hands into his hair and shifted to get as close to his body as she could.

He cupped her ass, pressing her tight against him, as his tongue continued its slow, voluptuous dance with hers. Oh, God, he felt so good. Her blood simmered, as desire flared, sparked, and ignited. Her leg climbed over his hip, tucking in between his ass and the couch cushion, and she locked him hard against her.

"Nicole?"

Vaguely, she heard her name being called, but the blood roared in her ears and his kisses grew more heated, more urgent, and she couldn't think, couldn't get her mind to rise to the surface.

"Nicole, honey? Peaches?"

She tore her mouth off his and looked up to find James standing behind the couch, hands on hips, a kitchen towel hanging out of his back pocket. "While I'd give my left nut to be you right now, your syrup's boiling and we need to finish up in the kitchen."

"Oh, sorry." She untangled herself from Dylan and got up. "Sorry about that."

James swatted her with a kitchen towel. "You are so not sorry."

She glanced back at Dylan, sitting up and watching her with a mischief in his eyes. "Yeah, no. Not sorry at all."

Where r u?

Nicole smiled when she saw his text. Between his job at the restaurant, classes, and Sweet Treats, they didn't get much time alone. So every time he sent a text like this one, she got a jolt of pure joy.

She quickly replied. Magnusson Library. Basement.

Don't like u studying down there alone.

Best place to concentrate. No one's ever here. Immediately after, she sent another. Where r u?

But he never responded. She pictured him slunk low in a chair in his study group. The brain power everyone relied on.

Nicole turned back to the article she was reading for her Global Studies class. She had a paper due on Friday, and she had to get through dozens of articles in preparation for it.

Footsteps trampling down the metal stairs set her heart racing. Dylan always worried some pervert would find her alone down here, but, seriously, she'd never seen another soul on this bottom level of the library.

Clothes rustling, boots pounding let her know someone had landed on her floor. And then the hottest man she'd ever seen rounded the corner, a black knit cap on his head, his shoulder-length hair hanging down, those intense hazel eyes trained on her. Dylan dropped his backpack and swooped in for a kiss.

Not just a kiss, though. His mouth opened, his tongue slipped in, and his big hands cupped the back of her head. He did this to her every time. Swept her away, made her lose all sense of time and place until she was thoroughly immersed in his scent, his heat, his intense energy.

Tonight he smelled of coffee, and his cheeks were icy cold.

He pulled away, grabbed a chair from the carrel behind her and sat down so close their knees touched. "I want to talk to you."

Uh oh. That didn't sound good. But...gah. Look at him-so gorgeous. He just took her breath away.

"Did you eat dinner?" he asked.

She couldn't think beyond these feelings he evoked. He was such a big guy; he took up all the space in the small carrel. Plus, the way he looked at her, like he was holding himself back from consuming her-she couldn't take it. She needed more, so she leaned forward, smoothing her hands up his hard, powerful thighs.

He held her gaze, not saying a word. He did that a lot, like he was too full of emotion to speak. Like he couldn't believe they were together. She understood. She felt the same way.

Her heart pounded, and she squeezed those muscular thighs.

Shifting onto his lap, she kissed him. Pressed against his solid chest, she tasted the need and want on his tongue. She tugged his cap off, letting her hands slide into all that silky hair, and when he deepened the kiss, when he growled deep in his throat, she fisted handfuls, holding him as close to her as she could get.

Those big hands came down on her hips. "Up." He lifted her, spread her legs so that she straddled him, and then slid down in the chair, lifting his hips so his thick erection pressed hard where she ached for him.

Oh, God, she went up in flames. She felt so hot she needed to shed a few layers of clothing. As soon as she tossed off her sweater, Dylan's hands swept under her shirt, gliding up to cup her breasts and pull down the cups of her bra.

His mouth moved urgently over hers, as he palmed her breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples. God, the man never just made out with her. He possessed her. And she loved it.

"Off." He pulled the long-sleeve T-shirt over her head, tossing it on her desk. His hot, hungry mouth came down on her breasts, both of them, tongue sliding from one nipple to the other. He sucked first one, then the other, and then, Oh, God, he took a deep, hard pull, making sensation explode inside her. Her fingernails scraped along his scalp, and she pressed him to her.

"Goddammit, Nicole." His hand pushed into her jeans, but there was no give. "Get these off."

As soon as she got up, her legs wobbled, but he caught her around the waist, jerking at the top button, tugging down the zipper, and then yanking down the tight jeans and panties.

With shaky hands, she undid her bra and tossed it. Once she was naked, he lifted her onto the desk, spread her legs, and dropped down in her chair.

The moment his tongue licked inside her, heat spread in a slow burn. She leaned over him, her hair curtaining them, closing her off in this intimate, wild moment with him. Her ankles crossed behind his neck, her hands cradled his head, and she let herself go into the brilliant sensations flooding her body.

He licked and swirled, gripping her ass, pulling her tight to his mouth. How could it be like this? This intense, this powerful? She couldn't even breathe for the pleasure taking hold of her, twisting her into a tight knot of energy, a powder keg ready to- "Oh, God." Heat exploded within her core, radiating out in sparkling bits of light. Her head tipped back, as waves of sensation tore through her.

He looked up at her, this big, gorgeous man, who seemed to have a soft spot only for her.

Gently lowering her legs, he lifted her, carrying her to the wall between the metal bookshelves and the staircase. Pinning her there, he undid his jeans, shoved them down to his knees, then bent and thrust up into her.

She cried out, and he covered her mouth with his, but it was too intense. He was ravenous, his tongue twirling with hers, as his hips pumped madly, jolting her bones. She'd never been penetrated so deeply. She dropped her face into the crook of his neck and bit down on the wedge of muscle.

"Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck." Dylan rocked into her, one hand covering her tail bone to protect her from the hard wall. The other hand, the one gripping her ass, was right there between her legs, caressing where their bodies joined, as he powered into her. And it just felt so sexy and so erotic that heat flashed along her limbs.

The constant friction against her clit had her so aroused, the pleasure turned almost unbearable. The tension rose, tightened, until it ejected her out of her body and into a place of pure, floating, spiraling pleasure. She clung to him tightly, as the wild sensations took her for a ride. Just then his head reared back and he slammed her against the wall, over and over, and it was so intense that she felt another orgasm taking form.

"Jesus." He clamped his hands on her ass, pinning her to the wall, as he thrust hard and tight three, four, five times.

And then his rhythm slowed, became languid, and God, did that feel good, sending shivers up her spine. "Oh, fuck me." Still gliding in and out, he found her mouth, kissed her deeply, passionately. Her heart swelled with so much emotion she nearly burst into tears.

But he would freak out if she did that. If she expressed that depth of emotion. She'd have to let her body say what her words couldn't. He wasn't ready for all she felt for him.

Her legs couldn't take it anymore, so she uncrossed her ankles, and he slowly let her down. She needed to get her clothes back on, in case someone wandered down there.

But he held her in place, brushing the hair off her face. "You okay?"

"Better than okay." Wrapping a hand around his damp neck, she brought him down for a kiss. "You dazzle me." She headed back to her carrel and grabbed her panties off the floor.

He smiled, fixated on her bouncing breasts, as she hitched up her jeans. "Can you hand me my bra?"

"No."

"Dylan." She laughed at his lustful expression.

He pressed up to her, his mouth lowering to her breast, and he took the most delicate, slow and sexy licks of her nipple.

"I have to get dressed." But her hands pressed on the back of his head, holding him close.

"Not done with you yet." He went back to licking her, taking his time. God, it was the most sensual assault she'd ever experienced. His hand caressed her other breast, gently, worshipping it.

"Oh, my God, Dylan." Her bones turned liquid. He unbuttoned her jeans, worked a hand down under the elastic of her panties, and slid his finger inside her. She was gasping, knees barely holding her up, but he didn't stop. Heat spread through her, firing up every nerve ending, until her body thrummed and rejoiced in the glory of this man's touch.

I love you. She couldn't say it. Wouldn't. "Oh, Dylan," she whispered, her voice shattering into a million glittering pieces. He focused his attention on her clit, rubbing harder, faster. He knew exactly what made her feel good. And then it hit her-hard, fast, a dizzying rush of sensation that made her knees give out. His hand popped out of her pants and he caught her, holding her close, easing her back in the chair.

He handed her the bra. "I have to get back to my study group."

"Yeah, your work here is definitely done."

He cracked a smile-so freaking sexy. "When will you be home?"

She had a ton of work to do before Thanksgiving break-papers and tests. "Not for a while." She pulled her shirt on, and he leaned forward to pull her hair out of the collar. Only he didn't just pull it out, he let his fingers sift slowly through the strands.

"Okay." But he didn't go. He sat back in the chair, legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh.

She got her sweater on, adjusted her breasts in the cups of her bra, and waited. Only then did she remember why he'd come down here. But, God, after the high of what she'd just experienced, she really didn't want to hear bad news. Suck it up. "You wanted to talk to me?"

His brow pinched. Oh, crap. Oh, no. He didn't look happy. With Thanksgiving break coming up, maybe he was thinking of his mom. And that was never a good thing.

Was he going to break up with her? Okay, stupid thought, considering what they'd just done. But, come on, like she didn't worry about it all the time? Deep in her gut she sensed he was always a hair trigger away from bolting. What he'd said before-that she was too good to be true? Yeah, that. A shadow lurked within his eyes, like he still believed it.

"Just say it, okay?"

"Say what?" He sat up straighter, looking even more concerned.

"You obviously came down here to say something. Just say it. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I can handle anything."

"Okay." His legs drew together and he placed an elbow on each knee, bringing his face close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin. "I want to change my ticket."

His what? Change what ticket? She didn't want to move or say a word, afraid she'd jumble the message, turn it into the worst thing she wanted to hear.

"I'm supposed to fly home on Saturday, but I want to stay here with you. We'll probably have the house to ourselves. I know how important it is to you to go home and be with your family, but do you want to hang out with me for a few extra days? I could fly out on Tuesday instead."

She flung herself into his arms. "Of course I want to stay here with you. Of course."

He tugged on her hair, tilting her head back to give her one of his all-consuming kisses.

"God, yes. But isn't it expensive? To change a ticket?"

"No price on three days alone with you."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Slick heat gripped his cock, the friction in her tight channel sending erotic shockwaves through his limbs. With Nicole on her knees in front of him, he could see his glistening cock pistoning in and out of her, and it spun him into a frenzy of desire.

Hands braced on the white headboard, she pushed back on him so he could slam inside her all the way to the root. One hand squeezed the firm flesh of her ass, while the other plumped her breast, a thumb rubbing the hard nipple, and the ferocious need he felt for his girl drew his balls in tight as his dick exploded, releasing all the unbearable tension.

His pace didn't let up, as he kept coming in hot, shattering blasts, his finger rubbing her clit furiously until she threw her head back, cried out, and locked her ass to his pelvis.

"Fuck." Nothing had ever felt so good.

They both collapsed, sweaty and spent, onto her bed.

"You're going to kill me." She flopped onto her back. But, as he climbed up to rest his head on her pillow, she turned to her side, draping her body alongside his.

He squeezed her bottom, and she laughed. "What is your thing about my ass?"

"I love your ass."

She went quiet, and he had no idea what she was thinking. He figured it wasn't good-since girls had weird thoughts about their bodies. So, he said, "I love your breasts. I love your mouth. I love your hair. Love it all."

Still, she was quiet.

"You don't like how I touch your ass?" Some girls didn't like when a guy touched a part of their body they didn't like. Made them self-conscious. He didn't want her distracted when they were together-he certainly wasn't. He wanted her to lose herself completely-which he thought she had been doing.

"I love how you touch me. Everywhere. I love it."

"So what's the problem?"

"Nothing. I just...the way you touch me...no one's ever wanted me this much."

"Not even Jonathan?"

She looked up at him. Yeah, he never asked intrusive questions. But for some reason, tonight, he wanted to know. She'd be seeing her ex over the break.

"Are you serious? After a seeing-to like that you want to compare past lovers?"

He laughed-and, honestly, no one made him laugh the way she did. Sure, he laughed with his friends back home. But that was raunchy humor. Or drunken humor. His girl was snarky, and he never knew what would come out of her mouth. "You don't have to tell me." He was in no position to force anyone to talk about their private lives.

"Ugh." She got up, grabbing their water glasses from her desk. "I'm getting us some water. Be right back." He heard the faucet run in the bathroom, and he wished he hadn't said anything. Just because he'd never had this kind of sex with anybody before didn't mean she hadn't.

Handing him a glass, she drank hers down, then turned on the desk lamp. She pulled on his T-shirt and a fresh pair of panties from her dresser. "Jonathan's a drunk."

"Jesus, Nicole." He sat up, stacking pillows behind him. "Your boyfriend of three and half years was an alcoholic?"