She touched his jaw. "I'm glad I listened to the voice inside that wouldn't let me give up."

"If you had told me what he was doing there would have been no need for listening." His jaw clenched and a muscle twitched under her finger.

"There's nothing you could have done. I was married."

"Like h.e.l.l." His eyes narrowed and under her leftpalm, his pectorals bunched with tension.

"If you'd killed him, you'd be in jail. And I wouldn't have you. This way is better." She rasped her finger over the shadow of stubble on his jaw. She knew that look.

That promise of retribution. It used to terrify her. Now it just made her feel safe.

He was shaking his head before she was done, catching her finger between his strong teeth, nipping it gently before saying, "Sunshine, we are never going to see eye to eye on that, and if you don't think I know how to kill a man without leaving evidence, you need another think."

Maybe she did, but it didn't change the truth.

"It's better for me, Clint."

His hand touched the side of her breast. It wasn't a caress so much as a reaffirmation of a memory. She held her breath, afraid he was going to press her for the one piece of her past that she hadn't revealed. But he didn't.

Just shook his head and stroked her gently with hands that always pleasured, and said, "You are an amazingly stubborn woman."

"But you like me." She smiled. This was her man.

The one person in this world who saw her for what she was.

"Yes." Just one word, but it was said with a hunger that made her burn.She waited for the smile that curved his lips to reach his eyes before she asked, "And you're going to let me play tonight?"

This time his "yes" was slower, deeper, as if his mind was already going down the path where she wanted to lead him. The hand on her breast clenched with carnal hunger. The other brought her palm back to his mouth. He nipped the base of her thumb. Her knees buckled as her womb clenched.

"Good," she breathed, letting her own hunger burgeon and flow. "Because I'm asking favors this time."

Clint froze, his lips on her palm, his melting black eyes locked with hers. She pulled her hand free and stepped back. She licked her dry lips and pressed on.

"I've been punished many times for tempting a man, but I've never actually done it. I'd like to try..." Oh G.o.d, she was going to die if he said no. She licked her lips again. "To tempt you."

For a split second he did nothing. Said nothing. Then his eyes seemed to burn from within and a smile-a real smile-spread across his face.

"Come here." That drawl, low and deep, slid along her desire, stoking inner fires to flickering life. He caught her hands in his big ones and pulled her to her feet with an ease that still amazed her. He placed her palms on his chest on either side of the b.u.t.ton placket, holding her fora second while she steadied. He was always taking care of her.

"So you want to play with me?" he asked in that same deep, need-spiking baritone.

"Yes." She slid her hands up to thread her fingers through the blue-black strands of his hair.

"Then come play." The left corner of his sensual mouth lifted higher than the right.

Such an invitation, given in that raspy tone, backed by that s.e.xy smile and that challenging look encouraged a woman to boldness. And for once, Jenna didn't back away from the dare. This was her man. Her house. Her marriage, and she wanted joy in all three. She slid her hands to the b.u.t.tons on his shirt, feeling the increase in his heart rate shaking her palms.

"You like me like this," she said as she undid the second b.u.t.ton.

"No lie, Sunshine, this is about my favorite fantasy."

He settled his hands on her shoulders.

"You've had fantasies about me?"

"For as long as I've known you."

She'd known him for three years. "Even when I was married?"

"Yeah." He nudged the edge of her nightdress so that it slid off her shoulder. She left it there. "But thosetended to end as a nightmare."

The rules preached into her from childhood chose that moment to pop forward. "It's a sin to covet another man's wife."

"You were never meant to be anyone's wife but mine."

She touched the scars over his breastbone.

"No. I wasn't." She might have been imagining it, but he seemed to relax slightly with her agreement. She tugged his shirt free of his pants. His heat and scent surrounded her in a potent embrace. She leaned into it, and traced the edge of one of his scars with her tongue.

His big body shook. The smile started way down deep inside.

"I like that," she whispered, after tracing the scar to the end, just below his nipple.

"What?" His thumb edged her night rail off her other shoulder. Goose b.u.mps chased the soft slither of material over her skin.

"The way you react to my touch."

"Sunshine, you make me burn just by being in the room."

"Good." She slid her arms out of the nightdress, leaving the top caught on the hard peaks of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I'd be obliged if you could just wiggle the slightestbit," he hinted.

She knew why. She could feel his eyes like a touch, heavy on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, making them swell and the nipples bead harder.

"I bet you would," she said as she pushed his shirt off his broad shoulders. It didn't slide off his arms like hers did. There was too much muscle on the man for that.

She had to stand on tiptoe to nudge the fabric off his biceps, trailing her fingers along the crease in his upper arm, dipping her finger into the dent of an old bullet wound. So many scars on his hard body. So many times he might have been killed.

When she settled back down, her nightdress fell to the floor. She was naked before him. There was a heartbeat when she wanted to cover up, but then she looked into his face, drawn tight with desire for her, his nostrils flaring as if he were scenting her arousal, and she did the opposite. She stepped back and squared her shoulders.

His response was immediate. "Son of a b.i.t.c.h."

She'd never heard a curse said with such reverence.

The blush she couldn't control seared her skin. His dark gaze followed the path from her stomach, over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s up to her cheeks and then back down to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, where it lingered. His tongue dampened his lower lip."Come here, Sunshine, and let me ease some of that heat."

She shook her head, feeling very daring, very feminine. "No. This is my time to play and if I come over there, you'll take over."

"No I won't, but I can see how hard your nipples are.

Wouldn't you like me to take them in my mouth? Suck them a little? Tease them?" Her knees almost buckled at the thought. He pressed his advantage. "I can make them feel so good. Bring them here, baby, and let me nibble."

Need arced out from the hard tips, shooting through her body before rebounding to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, flaring outward at the tips, creating a searing ache that only he could soothe. She cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in her hands to contain the demand.

His curse echoed through the room. Surprise had her attention flying to his face. His gaze was locked on her hands. His fingers were on the fly of his denims, working the b.u.t.tons over the bulge of his c.o.c.k, the shirtsleeves caught on his wrist hampering the effort.

"Do you like it when I touch myself, Clint?"

His "yes" was a guttural expression of hunger.

"How?" She slid her fingers along the underside of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s toward the tips. Her hands weren't as big as his and didn't give the satisfaction of his, but his open sensuality and the heat coming from his heavy-liddedgaze fueled her pa.s.sion.

"Touch those pretty nipples, baby." He kicked off his boots.

She did, pinching them lightly, watching his tongue flick over his lips as she did and his lids drop lower over his eyes.

With a simple flex of his arm the shirt ripped up the back. He tore his arms free, before shoving his pants impatiently down over his hips. The material caught on the thrust of his shaft. He swore as she pinched her nipples again, harder this time, moaning a little as the shot of pleasure took her by surprise.

"Did that feel good?" His smile grew broader. His gaze hotter.

She nodded, her breath coming in short bursts as she watched him lever the long thick length of his c.o.c.k free of his pants. Even from here she could see that he was full to bursting, his heavy b.a.l.l.s drawn tight to his body, the broad head of his c.o.c.k dark and glistening with his seed.

She forgot to move, to breathe as he cupped his shaft in his hand, dragging his palm up the heavily veined length, lifting it to her gaze, letting her see how it jerked beneath his touch.

Her palms itched to touch him, to hold all that power in her hands. She took a step toward him. He kicked freeof his pants, standing before her, unselfconscious in his nudity. The shadows from the lamp highlighted the dense cuts of muscle across his big frame, the power inherent in his touch and the s.e.xuality he radiated so effortlessly. With his hair swinging freely around his face, shadowing his eyes and emphasizing his cheekbones, he looked every inch the dangerous, s.e.xual man that he was.

Everything inside of her thrilled to the knowledge that he was hers. She pinched her nipples again, holding them the way he did, drawing them away from her body, lifting them toward his mouth.

His c.o.c.k leapt at the sight. His tongue ran over those delicious lips and he moaned. For her. Juices flooded her p.u.s.s.y along with the knowledge that she did this to him.

He saw her as something he couldn't resist. She took a step closer, lifting her b.r.e.a.s.t.s higher.

He frowned. "Gently, baby."

She didn't want gentle. "I like this."

"d.a.m.n it, come here." His fingers twitched on his c.o.c.k. He stared at her mouth, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her p.u.s.s.y, like a man starved. Clear fluid spilled over the tip of his c.o.c.k, dribbling down the wide shaft.

For the first time in her life, she refused an order from a man. She stood where she was and pinched harder, lifted higher. He gritted his teeth and shuttled hisc.o.c.k though his fist, fluid coming in a steady stream, easing his way as he watched her.

"This is not a good time to be teasing me, Jenna," he warned in a deep, dark voice.

She disregarded the warning. There was nothing he could do to her that she wouldn't welcome. The way he handled his c.o.c.k enthralled her, fascinated her with what it revealed. He wasn't nearly as careful with himself as he was with her. There was an expediency to his touch when he handled his flesh. Not at all the way he touched her. On her, his hands had a tendency to linger, to savor.

To pleasure. The way she wanted to touch him.

He stroked the length of his c.o.c.k again and grimaced. She knew his touch, knew how his calluses sc.r.a.ped deliciously against sensitive skin. Knew the pleasure he was giving himself. And wanted it for herself. She slid one hand down her stomach, moving gently on the soft flesh, inching toward her pulsing c.l.i.t.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h, you're tempting me," he growled in the back of his throat.

Yes, she was. And enjoying it. Her pleasure must have shown in her smile, because with one last muttered curse, he was on her, lifting her against him, one hard, muscled arm hitching under her b.u.t.tocks, anchoring her hips to his as he strode to the bed. He fell with her onto the mattress, laughing when she squealed, catchinghimself on his hands, his lips still aligned with hers, his c.o.c.k edging the cleft of her p.u.s.s.y, sliding easily along her lubricated flesh, teasing her c.l.i.t with a slow, gliding pressure.

This time she was the one who moaned. And he smiled that wickedly dark smile and dipped his head, his hair stroking her b.r.e.a.s.t.s in a silken caress as his lips hovered above hers.

"You shouldn't tease a starving man, Sunshine."

"Why not?" she whispered into his mouth, the last syllable ending on a moan as he pumped his c.o.c.k along her l.a.b.i.a again.

"Because you might get more than you bargained for."

"How much more?" She bit her lip and arched her neck as the pleasure whipped through her.

He paused. "You're in a strange mood tonight."

Yes. She was. For the first time in her life she was free and she was in a rush to try everything, but how could she explain that to Clint, who'd probably never felt trapped in his life? She slid her hands over his shoulders, running her nails along the swell of muscle, arching her back into his shiver.

"It's like there's been something weighing me down my whole life and suddenly, it's not there anymore.""Are you trying to tell me you're ready to fly?" He kissed her mouth, the right corner, the left, and then the end of her nose.

"Yes."

"It's dangerous to tell me that now." He rested his forehead against hers.

"Why?" She t.i.tled her head back to facilitate the kisses he was spreading down the line of her jaw. She loved his mouth. His kisses. Firm yet soft, each kiss accented by the p.r.i.c.kle of his beard. That edge of danger heightening her excitement.

"I'm holding on by a thread, Sunshine."

"Holding onto what?" Oh G.o.d, when he sucked on her neck she could barely hold a thought.

"Control, baby, control."

"Do you need it?"

His laugh buffeted the curve of her shoulder.

"Sunshine, I'm a hair's breadth from either f.u.c.king your a.s.s or paddling it."

That did not sound good. "Why?"

"Because you could have been hurt today." He plumped her breast into his callused palm. "Because I could have lost you."

"But you didn't."

"The near miss is driving me crazy."His hot mouth closed over her turgid nipple searing her with the heat of his need. Against her, his body was taut with the same desire. She pushed his hair back, watching his cheeks flex as he suckled her. She traced the arch of his brow. She remembered back to their wedding night. His excitement. His kindness. She traced the line of his right eyebrow. He looked up at her, for a split second his soul bare in his eyes. She'd never seen such emptiness in a man's eyes before. She'd do anything to remove it from Clint's.

"I don't think I'd like to be paddled," she whispered, taking a leap of faith.

He froze, releasing her nipple with an audible pop, hitching himself up so he could see her face. "Excuse me?"