“We’re not done,” he told her.
She held his gaze. She did this for a while.
Then she licked her lips.
After that, she shifted again.
Toward him.
When she got close, he wound his arms around her and took her to her back.
He also took her mouth.
Later, he took something else with his mouth.
And later, for the first time, she took something of his with hers.
He also managed to get all their clothes off and, without a fight, she let him ride her start to phenomenal finish. They took their time, both coming harder and both taking longer to recover because of it.
He left her in bed to hit the bathroom.
She was dressed by the time he came out.
This did not make him happy.
“Olivia—”
She moved quickly to him, lifted a hand and touched her fingers to his lips before they slid across his cheek and hair then down and around the back of his neck.
Only then did she open her mouth to speak.
“Tomorrow, Sebring.”
She started to move away.
He caught her at the waist and hauled her back, angling his head as he did.
As happened often, their tongues collided before their lips did.
They kissed hard and uncompromisingly. Battling. Seizing. Claiming. Going at it. Giving it all they had.
With no one winning.
But still, they both broke contact as the victor.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated, pulled from his hold and walked away.
* * * * *
5:27 The Next Evening
“Don’t go Unka Nick!”
His five-year-old niece, Kasha, was yanking on his hand, her expression set to stubborn, her eyes—Knight’s eyes in a face shaped like Anya’s—irate and trained on him.
He swung her up in his arms and she tried to beat back the giggle but did not succeed.
“I gotta go, princess,” he told her.