"I don't believe you," I said with disgust. "Is that going to happen on my next date, too? Because I don't know if you've thought about this, Josh, but if he's going to turn me, he's going to want to do more than hold my hand."

That familiar scowl darkened Josh's handsome face. Was that possessiveness I saw in his eyes? I stalked across the room to put some distance between us and sat on the small love seat that was at a right angle to my couch. If he was going to talk to me he'd have to sit on the couch, because the love seat couldn't sit more than one comfortably.

No sooner had I thought it than he was sliding next to me, his hips pushing against mine, his thigh pressed to my own. He turned his big body toward me and leaned in.

"Are you going to let him kiss you again?" There was that gleam of possessive cougar in his eyes again.

"Josh," I said softly, "I need him to turn me. You know that."

"Let me talk to Beau," he said, his voice dropping. "We can tell him that I want to turn you."

I eyed him, wary. "And then what? You go into exile with me? Because I'm pretty sure neither of us will like Greenland."

"That won't happen," he said confidently.

"Don't lie to me, Josh."

"Fine," he bit out, looming over me, all delicious and sexy. "Here's the truth. I don't like it when he kisses you. I don't like it when he touches your hand and you smile at him. It makes me so fucking crazy that I want to drag him away from you. I want to pull you into my arms and kiss you the way you should be kissed. By a man, not by some undead guy."

That was a lot of honesty. My breathing was faster, more shallow. He was so close that I could smell the warmth of his skin, and it was doing crazy things to me inside.

"So yes, I hate it when he touches you. I couldn't stop myself from interrupting. And I'm not sorry. The only reason he's still in one piece at the moment is because this is what you need, and I am trying"-he ground his teeth, then gritted out-"to be understanding."

That was . . . sweet.

"I didn't enjoy kissing him," I told him.

Josh scowled. "Oh, come on, Marie. Every girl enjoys vampire kisses. Their saliva is an aphrodisiac."

"It's . . . what?" That explained how I'd been completely uninterested, and then it was like a switch flipped and bam, insta-lust. "Aphrodisiac?"

That sounded . . . appalling. He'd deliberately drugged me with his kiss?

Josh looked surprised. "You didn't know?"

"Well, that explains a lot. I guess there are some rather large gaps in my supernatural education."

I felt violated. Andre had taken me to a quiet, secluded spot knowing how I'd react to his kiss. And if Josh hadn't stopped it, I was pretty sure there would've been full-on sex. I shuddered.

"Now you see why it bothers me to see you with him?" His fingers stroked a curl of my hair, brushed it behind my ear in a tender caress.

A very tender caress for a man who had ignored me for the past two days. I shoved at his chest. "You don't get to be jealous. I poured my heart out to you and told you my secret, and you ignored me for two days."

I couldn't help the note of hurt that had crept into my voice. I only hoped he hadn't noticed it. Mr. Playboy didn't get to hurt my feelings. I was ice. That was how things were safest.

But he just kept stroking my hair, then lightly grazed the shell of my ear with his fingers. "Give a guy a break, Marie," he said softly. "You just told me that the girl I'm crazy about is dying. And the only way to stop her from dying is to let her sleep with another man and have him turn her into a vampire. And there's nothing I can do about it, because I understand it. But that doesn't make me feel any less helpless."

My gaze went to his mouth, so firm and strong. His gaze was direct, and I resisted the urge to reach out and brush my fingers over those impossibly long lashes. So unfair for a man to have lashes like that. They made his eyes soft. Sultry. Delicious. His gaze sent shivers through my body. "You're crazy about me?"

"Must be my hero complex," he said softly. "I wish I could leave you alone and make this vampire thing easier for you. But it's driving me nuts. All of it. You in his arms. The thought of you dying. The thought of walking away and just leaving all this to play out. I'm stuck no matter which way I turn, Marie." His fingers trailed across my cheek, and his thumb slid to my mouth, brushing over the curve of my lower lip. "So I'd rather be stuck here with you."

His touch felt incredible. He was here, with me. And I realized that this was his way of supporting me.

I bit at the tip of his finger when he brushed it over my lip, then released it. "So what are you going to do?" I whispered.

"Well," he said, and his weight pressed over me on the love seat, his mouth moving ever closer to mine. He plucked my glasses off, then tossed them onto the nearby couch. His hand moved back to me, cupping my cheek and tilting my face toward his. I felt hot and flushed, in a clearer, purer way than when the vampire had touched me. This time, I felt the heat pulsing through my body, felt that delicious excitement at his touch. "Right now, I'm fighting the urge to throw you down on this love seat and fuck the hell out of you."

That sounded way too tempting. "Why are you fighting it?"

He groaned and leaned in, pressing his mouth to my neck. "Marie, I can't be with you without . . . putting some sort of claim on you. If you and I do this, I'm not going to be able to walk away like you want me to."

"I don't want you to walk away," I said, and bit his lower lip, unable to help myself. "I never said that."

"I don't know what the solution is, but we'll figure something out," he said and nipped at my neck. The bite was flutteringly light, just a tease.

"Let's just take it one day at a time," I told him. "And today, I want my hands all over you."

"Good, because mine are about to be all over you."

"Then do it," I dared him. "Or are you chicken?"

"Fighting words," he said. His mouth was hot on my skin and incredibly distracting, and I loved it. He buried his head against my neck, and I felt his tongue swipe over my collarbone.

I gasped at the sensation that jolted through me.

He pulled up, eyeing me. "Everything okay?"

"I hope you're not going to ask that every time I make a noise," I told him, smoothing my hands down his chest in appreciation of the muscles there.

He undid the first button of my ugly flannel pajamas and exposed a bit more of my skin, then pressed his mouth there. "For someone so cranky, you sure do taste good."

I smacked his chest, and his chuckle at the hollow of my throat sent a shiver through my body. I immediately lost track of all teasing thoughts, especially when he nipped lightly at my skin. Small, soft little bites, just the barest scrape of teeth against flesh. It gave me goose bumps, and I moaned when he gave my neck a long swipe with his tongue in response.

"Sorry," he said, and his voice sounded rough with need. "Couldn't resist."

"Do it all you like," I said dreamily. It felt amazing.

"You shouldn't tell me that," he growled, then licked my collarbone again.

"Then maybe I shouldn't tell you how wet it makes me," I whispered.

He bit me. I gasped in shock as I felt his teeth dig into my skin, the sting traveling up my neck. "Josh?"

He licked the spot carefully. "Sorry. Just had to do it. You were just begging for it."

"I was not begging for anything," I told him, running my hands along his back. I loved touching him after weeks of imagining how he'd feel.

"Really? Because all I'm hearing is 'Josh, I need you to lick my breasts,'" he told me in a husky voice, kissing lightly along my jaw.

I sucked in a breath, my nipples going hard.

"Liked that, did you?" he said with a chuckle. Then he leaned down and undid the next button of my pajamas with his teeth. I watched, dazed, as his mouth moved to the curve of my breast and began to gently kiss it. "Can I undo the rest of them?"

"You're asking permission?" I said, unable to stop looking at his mouth on the valley between my breasts.

"I need to know that you want this, too, Marie." He looked up, and I saw his dark eyes reflecting with the were-cougar side of him. "You've got to encourage a man a bit, Marie."

"What happened to all that talk about foreplay?" I was finding it hard to breathe. It was like all the air had left my lungs at the sight of his dark head over my chest.

He grinned. "Just talk, baby."

I snorted at that.

He gave me a wounded look. "You're killing my ego here, Marie."

"It might need a nice, healthy deflating," I told him, and then to take the sting out of my words, I ran a finger along his chest. "But I wouldn't mind if you were shirtless."

"I'll go skins if you go skins," he said with a grin. Josh crawled off me and stood up, then offered me his hand.

I placed mine in it slowly, feeling a little out of my element as he pulled me to my feet. Okay, a lot out of my element. All my expertise in flirting and being sexy was ten years rusty. And here I was in ratty pajamas, with dark circles under my eyes.

Then he tugged his shirt over his head, and my mouth went dry.

Josh was . . . gorgeous. In the future, I needed to see him naked at least once a day. Maybe more. I couldn't resist reaching out to touch him. Taut, strong shoulders that framed a lean, tapering torso and a flat stomach. He had a sprinkle of hair on his pectorals and a line of it down his belly. Elegant. Delicious. His biceps were hard and strong, and I couldn't help squeezing them as I ran my hands over him.

He remained perfectly still as I explored him, touching him the way I'd wanted to so many times before. I brushed my fingers over those pectorals, so well defined and hard, and jumped as a low rumble started in his chest under my fingers.

"Sorry," he said, putting his hand over mine and trapping it against his chest again. "Should have warned you. We purr."

Sure enough, a deep rumble just like a cat's purring came from his chest as his hand held mine over his heart. "I didn't realize your cat was so . . . close to the surface."

"Don't worry, I'm house trained."

"Very cute." I stared at that delicious skin, entranced, and ran my fingernails down it, raking them over the lean muscle.

He groaned, pulling me against him for another hot, quick kiss. "Your turn."

I pulled out of his arms and felt my cheeks heating with shyness. Would my inexperience show? I hoped not. I finished unbuttoning the pajama top, keeping the fabric together until the last minute. Then I shrugged my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I closed my eyes, waiting for his response.

"Beautiful," he said, his warm hands moving back around my waist and pulling me against him for another hot, openmouthed kiss. We were naked chest to naked chest, and dear God, the sensation was sinful. Especially when his tongue was stroking into my mouth so sensually, like I was something delicious to be enjoyed for hours. One of his big hands stroked down my spine and I whimpered, pressing my breasts closer against his chest. I loved his warmth, his big body. I wanted to feel him all over me.

His hand slid to my ass and tugged me closer as the kiss deepened, became more possessive. My pulse heated, pounding through my body in excitement. His mouth slowly pulled away from mine, and he stared down at me with hot eyes. "You want the bed or right here? Because we should probably go there now."

"Bed," I said softly, my fingers twined in the silky hair at his nape.

He picked me up, kissing me as he carried me to my bedroom, then laid me on the bed and crawled on top of me. I wrapped my pajama-clad legs around his waist as he leaned in for another kiss, his chest hair tickling against my nipples.

And then he thrust against the juncture of my thighs, and I moaned. Oh, wow. Even through his jeans, that felt really, really good.

He swallowed my moan with another hot kiss, thrusting again, rocking against my core. My mind went blank with pleasure as he slid his hands to my waist and kissed my neck again, then down my collarbones.

When he leaned over and took the tip of one breast into his mouth, I dug my fingernails into his skin. "Joshua!"

He was purring again, nuzzling against my nipple, and he licked and sucked the sensitive tip, rolling it against his tongue. I felt the purr vibrating through his body, and it was doing crazy things to the way he felt against me. My sex felt hot and slick with need, my thighs clenching around him involuntarily. "Please . . . "

"Please make love to my other breast?" He blew across my sensitive skin, and my entire body prickled in response. "If you insist." And his mouth latched onto my other breast. His thumb went to the nipple he'd just abandoned, teasing the peak as he licked and nibbled on the other.

I writhed under him, my back arching. I didn't want the sweet, intense torture to ever stop. I wanted more, desperately. My fingernails dug into his skin and my hips began to rise instinctively. "Please," I breathed again, because I loved the consequences and wanted to see what he'd do next.

"Please," he whispered huskily. "Put my mouth on you?"

I inhaled sharply, and nodded.

His fingers tugged the waistband of my pajamas and slid them down my legs. "I've been thinking about how you'd look for weeks. It's been driving me crazy. I can't wait to see all of you."

I held my breath as his gaze moved over my body. His hand followed his gaze, skimming up my leg, then my thigh, the dark curls at the junction of my sex.

"Lovely," he whispered, and leaned in to press a kiss to my belly.

That simple movement set my body aflame. I reached for him, dragging him back on top of me and kissing. He slid between my thighs and I parted them, letting him rock his weight against me again. His jeans rubbed against my sex in a raw way that sent shivers through my body. His kisses were deep and drugging, and I utterly loved the taste of him. I could kiss him for hours on end.

He slowly pulled away. "I need to take my pants off before they geld me."

I giggled, and he grinned. "Do you want me to use a condom?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you automatically do that?"

He shook his head. "Shifters don't get diseases, and I can only make someone pregnant if she's in heat."

I propped up on my elbows, thinking. "What about me? Can you make me pregnant?"

He shook his head. "Not unless you've got shifter blood in you. It won't take."

I grabbed the front of his jeans, tugging him toward me on the bed. "Then we're good."

He grinned and dropped his hands to my hair, smoothing it away from my face. "You gonna do the honors?"

Finish undressing him? The thought was . . . titillating. I looked up at him, feeling a bit anxious, but the hot look in his eyes reassured me. He was into this as much as I was. I carefully undid the button and lowered the zipper, shoving the jeans down his legs and revealing red briefs that left almost nothing to my imagination. "Oh . . . "

"Pretty impressive, huh?" he said with a teasing grin.

"Actually, it's smaller than I thought," I teased back.

"Oh, really?" he said with a challenging tone in his voice. "Then quit staring."

"I can't," I admitted and brushed my fingers over him through the fabric he was tenting.

He groaned, his fingers tangling in my curly hair. "God, Marie. I want your hands on me so badly."