They fell back into each other like a poem in which each stanza eased into the next. The stroke of her hand, the slide of her tongue, the warmth of her breath, the lilting sound of his name on her lips. It was as if they'd spent an eternity waiting for each other rather than engaging in one night of carnal sex. Stone fought hard, but when she climbed on top of him and took him deep inside, he almost sighed. The heat grew to blistering proportions, yet she rode him at a slow, intense pace, building up to the rhythm that would allow them both to shatter together.

She cried out. Her body arched, thrusting her small breasts high in the air, red hair streaming down her back. He watched every precious moment, taking it in, and then she collapsed forward onto his chest with him still inside her.

Stone's second orgasm was even more intense than the first, as if the Fates mocked his plan and were having a joke at both of their expenses. This was the crap they spoke of in chick flick movies and Jane Austen novels. The garbage they spewed when sex and lust mixed with love and commitment. He didn't believe in any of it; yet, as his balls tightened up and he exploded, releasing his seed, a possessive ferociousness claimed him, driving him to take her again and remind her she belonged to him.

Mine, his mind screamed. She's mine.

Shut up. This is about sex.

The voice fell quiet. Panting, trying to gather his sanity, he fell back to the bed with her still cuddled against his chest. Time ticked by. They lay quietly in the dark. He waited for her to ask him her endless questions that he couldn't answer.

But she didn't speak.

And once again, her breathing deepened and she slept.

Stone lay awake for a long time, wondering what he was going to do.

sixteen.

STONE! WAKE UP!"

"Five more minutes," he groaned, rolling away. His body was shaken harder than a bad eighties Polaroid picture, causing him to open one eye. Where was he? Oh, Arilyn's place. After sex. Great sex. Hell, the best sex he had ever had in his entire life, including when he lost his virginity to Sally Poole in the tenth grade. And that had been epic.

She squinted those incredible green eyes and moved closer. Poked him as if he were a dead body she was trying to investigate. He held back a laugh. Damned if she wasn't as cute in the morning as when he got her all riled. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eye makeup was smeared, and a crease from the sheets ran across her right cheek.

"Stone! You have to go!"

His other eye winked open. Huh? His gaze dropped to where her peach-tinted nipples peeked from over the covers. Had they really fallen into slumber after only two times? He needed to make up for his lack of planning. The emotion stuff actually threw him off his game, but he'd get back to the main goal of wringing as much pleasure from her as possible and-what? "Wait. Are you throwing me out?"

She gave an impatient huff and climbed out of the bed. The morning light spilled through the window and bounced off her skin. She was gorgeous. She seemed frantic to find something she had lost, opened up a closet, and muttered to herself as she finally tugged something out and wrapped it around her. The silky black robe clung to her skin the way he wanted to. He lost the vision of her bare ass and mourned. "You have to go! I completely forgot that Pinky is at your house, and she'll be scared in a new environment, and you need to feed her and change the water and the poor thing hasn't been walked." She nibbled at her lower lip, ginger brows snapped in a frown, and took out a pair of striped socks. Hopping on one leg, she donned the socks while he enjoyed the bobbing up and down of her breasts. "Are you listening to me? You need to get home to Pinky."

"I heard you." Only the first day of being a dog owner and he hated it. Why the hell would anyone want to leave a warm bed and a gorgeous half-naked woman to take care of a dog? Were people truly nuts? He sat up and gave her his best come-hither smile. "Half an hour more won't make a difference to Pinky. But it will to me." His dick screamed with happiness as she seemed to struggle with the temptation.

Then she belted her robe tighter. "After you take care of Pinky."

"I live across town!" he bellowed. "You're seriously kicking me out this early? Pinky won't care. Hell, she probably pooped in the house anyway; I'll deal with it later."

The familiar stubborn lines of her face told him a battle was about to be launched. "Pinky needs structure and routine. She needs to trust you. Leaving her alone with no care will only enforce what the old owners did to her. I'm sorry, Stone, but fostering is a full-time job and it's important. You have to take it seriously."

He glared at her, still aroused, and now mightily pissed off. "I didn't volunteer for this shit," he reminded her. "You forced me, remember? You can't call me out on not doing a job right that I never wanted in the first place!"

She pressed her lips together. "Semantics. Now, get dressed, take care of Pinky, and we'll see where that leaves us later."

Forget this! Now, she wasn't gonna get any because he was mad. He got out of bed buck naked and stabbed a finger at her. "Fine. I'll go and take care of the rat fink. But next time you want a bit of morning sex, you'll . . . you'll . . ."

"Yes?" she prodded, her eyes filled with amusement.

"You'll be denied!"

He ignored her quiet laughter, stomped to the bathroom, and slammed the door. He dressed in his suit again, totally flaunting the whole man-whore walk-of-confidence vibe, and made his way into the kitchen. This time Robert didn't come flying at him but looked up from his food bowl with an eager look on his face. Stone smothered a groan. The dog would be with Arilyn for two weeks, so he should try to make friends so he wasn't scared shitless. Hunkering down, trying not to wince, he held out his hand. "Here, boy. Ugh, Robert. Good boy."

The dog couldn't wag his tail, but his ear pricked. He dragged himself away from his precious food bowl, moving slowly, as if he knew Stone was nervous. Finally, he got close enough to push his wet nose into Stone's palm, nuzzling.

Huh. Kinda cute.

As if he realized he'd gotten through round one, he moved an inch closer and rubbed his head against his hand, giving him a quick lick. Stone's muscles relaxed, and a sense of comfort flowed through him. Reaching out with the other hand in careful motions, Stone stroked his body, eliciting a rumble of happiness and another lick.

Arilyn laughed. "I knew it wouldn't take you long to be friends. There hasn't been a person Robert hasn't won over."

Stone looked up. With her shapely bare legs peeking out from under the silk, her socks pulled up to mid-calf, he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Drag her back to bed for the entire day, until they both couldn't walk normally. Instead, he tried to hold on to his grouchiness at being thrown out.

"Can I have any coffee before I go?"

"Sure, I have a pot here. Black?"

"Yes."

She fixed him a mug, and with one last pat, Stone stood and took a grateful sip of the hot brew.

Then choked.

"What the hell is this?" he asked. "This isn't coffee!"

She cocked her head with confusion. "Yes, it is. Organic beans specially roasted."

He stared at the mug in horror. "Is this decaffeinated?" he whispered.

"Of course. Caffeine is bad for you, Stone. Once you get used to it, you'll never notice the difference."

He threw the cup in the sink, trying to hold on to his temper. God help him, they'd break up right now if they didn't straighten this out. "Like I didn't notice you took away my meat and replaced it with frozen soy? No. Arilyn, I need real coffee. Black. With lots of caffeine. I don't care if it's not good for you, I can't function without it."

She stuck up her chin in that stubborn way of hers. "Caffeine is an addiction like smoking."

"I'm not a saint. I'm grateful I haven't fallen off the wagon with the smoking, but if you take away my coffee, I'll be institutionalized. This is not a gray area. It's make-or-break time."

He stared at her, the battle waging between them, and finally, she relaxed, her lips curving in a small smile. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. I'll go to the store and get real coffee for you."

He studied her with suspicion. "Why did you give in so easy?"

She laughed that half giggle he already adored. "Because this is important to you. Stone, I know many of my choices seem weird to you. And I respect yours, too. I just don't want you stressed or sick or unhappy. That's all."

That's all. Yet it was more than he'd ever had before. Imagine a woman caring about him on such a level, beyond sex or a few laughs. The possibility dangled in front of him like a huge, juicy carrot, but he was no vegetarian and he knew the real deal. So Stone ignored it.

"Thanks. I better go." He turned to take off, but she called out his name. "Yeah?"

"Aren't you going to kiss me good-bye?"

Her honest question did him in. He took two big steps, picked her up, and kissed her thoroughly, senselessly, and with a deep satisfaction. He slid her back down to the ground, loving the wonderment and desire on her face as she looked at him.

"I'll come back."

She smiled. "Good."

He walked out with a lighter step, and a lighter heart.

STONE STARED AT THE dog. Frustration nipped at his nerves, along with something else. An emotion that bothered the shit out of him.

Guilt.

"I didn't leave you for long," he explained. Yes, he'd discovered a small yellow puddle by the door, but he didn't know what to expect with the house training. Arilyn had brought him an endless amount of supplies, from food, to toys, to treats, and even a pink doggy bed that looked ridiculous in his masculine house. At least he had a yard to offer, and since he lived a bit outside town, there weren't many neighbors.

Thank God, he hadn't invested in the carpeting, since he had a feeling Pinky would take a while to get her bladder on schedule. He'd walked her outside, and she'd done fine. He'd changed her water and given her food, which she'd actually eaten a bit of. But now she just sat in front of him, staring at him like she expected something.

"What is it you want?"

The catatonic distance had eased from her eyes, but she was still dead quiet, never barked, and seemed to slip in and out of that place in her head she lived in during the time of her abuse. Stone wasn't a dog whisperer, so he figured he'd just keep doing what he was doing and eventually give her to someone who could actually help.

Arilyn.

He glanced at his watch. After he showered, changed, and had some real bacon, real coffee, and real butter with toast, he felt energized. Figured he'd go back to her place and spend the next few hours before his shift.

"Listen, I gotta go back to Arilyn's. I'll swing by and take you out before I have to get to work though."

Pinky gazed back at him with sad eyes.

Fuck. "I'm not a dog person," he explained. "I'm glad you seem a bit better, but I'm not sure what you want. I can't bring you over there because she has a dog." Stone had seen Pinky turn into a shaking, growling lunatic when she got too close to another dog. Robert would give her a heart attack by his size alone. He strolled over, turned on the television, and clicked on Animal Planet. "See, you can watch TV. I'll keep a few lights on. You'll have a nice, relaxing day."

More staring. She never even blinked, just kept her serious gaze locked on his. Why wouldn't she grow hair? Those white tufts on top of her head made her look like a damn gremlin, and who knew skin could be a light brown color? When she opened her mouth to eat, her teeth poked out, looking razor sharp, but the overbite was just plain weird. It was as if her teeth weren't aligned with her mouth so her jaw jutted out. Most dogs he'd seen looked more normal. She was a little thing, too. But the sores had healed. She'd always be ugly as sin, but at least she would be healthy. And safe.

"Okay, so have a good day." Stone grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone. Walked to the door. Opened it. "See ya."

He glanced back. She didn't budge, but a slight tremor shook her body. As if by being left alone again, she'd be damaged somehow. Ridiculous. He was being an ass. He was leaving.

Stone shut the door and headed toward his car. Son of a bitch. He was going to have more great sex, go to work, and deal with the rat fink later. No way was a dog going to cramp his style now. No way.

He drove away with a roar of the engine, refusing to look back.

"WHAT THE HELL IS that?"

Devine stood on the curb, gaping at Stone as if he'd just announced he'd gone gay. He shifted the weight under his arm and glared. "A dog. What do you think it is? Get in."

They were outside the police station, ready to do a drive-by check. The early afternoon had been perfect. Ideal. When he returned, Arilyn greeted him at the doorway with no clothes, proving she had a secret bad girl inside he'd managed to spring loose. They'd spent the rest of the morning in bed, exploring all the ways he could make her scream, and he'd barely had enough time to get back to Pinky before racing to work.

Another small puddle greeted him along with a suffering, mournful expression of doggy unhappiness. Stone took the dog out, redid her water-food routine, and ripped out a new squeaky toy. Pinky refused to touch it. Just sat in the middle of the room, refusing to budge but asking for something he couldn't seem to figure out.

"See, this is why I don't have a dog," he offered, buttoning up his uniform. "This is also why I got a divorce. I'm busy. I don't know how to make you happy. I have to go to work and bring home the money. Do you understand?" Stone finished dressing, grabbed his stuff, and paused at the door. "I gotta go. I'll be back in eight hours and we'll spend some time together. Okay?"

Nothing. Well, what the hell did he expect? He was talking to a damn dog.

Frustrated and pissed off, he opened the door.

Then heard it.

Whimpering.

Stone turned his head. Pinky had dropped her head in full grieving mode. Body shaking, little moans of distress emitted from her mouth. A shiver raced down his spine. No. Oh, God, this was worse than a woman crying. He rubbed his hands over his face and prayed for it to stop. How could she go from isolated silence to codependency so soon?

"Don't. I can't take you to work. I drive in a police car and you'd hate it."

Pinky lifted her head and whined again. Took a few steps toward the door, cocking her head as if asking the all-important question. Can I go with you please?

"Absolutely not. You'll be fine. Hang out, take a nap, chew on a bone. I'll be back later."

He shut the door. A few steps toward the car, he stopped cold, listening to the eerie, sad whine of the dog. Crying.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He opened the door, grabbed the ridiculous pink collar and leash Arilyn had bought, and scooped Pinky up in his arms. The dog barely took up his whole hand, and immediately snuggled into the crook of his arm. Then Stone did the unthinkable, the impossible, and the insane.

He brought Pinky to work with him.

Devine was still staring in shock through the window at the dog sitting in the backseat. "That thing is a dog?" he asked in a high-pitched tone. "Are you kidding me? Trying to pull a practical joke? Is it real?"

Stone rolled his eyes. "Just get in the damn car, please, before the rest of the dingbats come out here. It's a Chihuahua."

Devine slid into the front seat, glancing back. "I know what a Chihuahua is, and that ain't one. Where's its fur?"

"Gone. Well, I called it Rat Fink, but Arilyn got pissed."

"Ah, now I get it! This is the one you tried to get me to take. You slept with her, and this is your punishment!"

"Shut up, Devine."

His partner belted out a laugh, shaking his head. "Thought you hated dogs."

"I do, but like I said, this one was abused, and the shelter was crowded, and she couldn't take the dog because it has issues."

"Issues, huh? You two are perfect for each other. What's the rat fink's name?"