It was all he’d physically done since the fire, each move carefully calculated for maximum control. Each maneuver designed to keep as much of him from touching his opponent as possible.
He didn’t know what to do with the near uncontrollable desires rushing through him, urging him to fall on her like an animal when he’d worked so damn hard to prove he was still a man. She overwhelmed him completely, and he still had his fucking clothes on.
“Jolie—”
“If you apologize, I will scream at you.”
Her response elicited a started laugh from him. He had been about to do just that.
“There will be no apologies for the hottest thing that’s happened to me since the sheet game.” She lifted her head, twisting around so she could smile back at him. “No, this is better.” Her hand reached back to smack him on the hip. “Three hundred and sixty degrees of fun instead of such a limiting two-D experience.”
“You are crazy, you know that?”
Her grin simmered. “Crazy turned on. Crazy hot for you. Hoping like crazy you’ll keep going and get me off.”
There was no turning that down. He just had to find ways to keep under control. He could do that. She was worth doing that. He moved to kiss her shoulder but stopped when he saw the mostly healed burn where she’d taken a torching for him. “How’s your neck?”
“Fine.” She shrugged. “Although don’t press too hard. It’s still a little sensitive. But you can touch it.”
He examined the healing spot where, for just a few inches, her skin matched his, and his ardor got the cool-off it needed. He’d wrestled with guilt as he lay in the hospital. Mostly because she’d burned for him, placing herself between him and a flamethrower. But also because some insane part of him liked that she knew him this way, that they shared this, even just a little bit. It was terrible because he didn’t wish her any harm. If he could go back, he’d find a way to take the fire for her.
But right here with this little patch of damaged skin, she knew him in a way that only somebody with a real burn could. He’d do his damnedest to make sure she never felt that again.
After planting a soft kiss on the center of the burn, he moved his attention to her back. This was easier, kissing her without her hands roving over him. She couldn’t look at him, but he could explore her skin without a barrier between them, watch each shiver as it hit her and hear the sweet sounds coming from low in her throat that told him she liked the way he touched her.
Plus, he had a perfect view of her ass.
He kissed down the ridges of her spine as he stroked her curves with his palms. She smelled like the citrus of his soap, tasted of oranges and the faint salt of sweat. He wanted to know every part of her, how she felt, how she tasted, how she moved.
She sighed his name, and his body began to ramp back up. He nipped her ass. She groaned. Added a “Please...”
He flipped her back over.
She reached for him. He caught her wrists in one hand to press them over her head. He would let her touch him, but not yet. He had to rein himself in too tightly. Her hands would push him over the edge too fast.
He straddled one of her thighs. She stretched provocatively beneath him. Once again he marveled that she was here, in his bed, naked and wanting.
She tugged against his hand with an impatient pout.
“Not okay?” he asked, loosening his hold.
She quit struggling. “You can pin me down anytime you want.” Her pout bent up into an evil smile. “Just remember, turnabout’s fair play.”
He laughed. “If you can pin my hands in one of yours, I’ll submit.”
She leaned as far up as his hold would let her. “What makes you think I’ll use my hands?”
His breath caught. The bed at her condo was a sturdy metal four-poster, and his first thought on seeing it had been how well a pair of handcuffs would fit around them. Handcuffs for her. The image turned him on so much he felt a hint of his old confidence sliding through him. He could get back to the man he was, if she could stick by him long enough.
He’d have to make sure she was happy enough to stay.
“You still gotta catch me first,” he said.