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He planted a chain of kisses along her shoulder while his palms slipped down her bare arms. She watched his dark head, felt the air cool the moisture on her skin, let desire and arousal throb to life inside her. Then his hands came to rest on her waist, his blunt fingers splayed on her stomach, dark in relief against the glittery blue of the dress.

She leaned back against him. He was solid, a tower of muscle and strength. Their gazes met in the reflection, midnight blue and pewter gray. She let him in, not flinching, absorbing his obvious passion and returning it with her own.

He reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, watching her reaction closely as he drew it down. The air brushed her back and she quivered with the mix of sensations. He brushed aside the fabric and kissed her shoulder. His fingers delved into her hair, tugging at the clip and releasing thick waves.

She gasped in a breath and her hands curled into fists. It was the point of no return. No, it wasn’t. She’d already passed no return when she’d met his eyes in the mirror. Her and Tuck, for now, at least for this small moment, were inevitable.

She shrugged her shoulders and the dress slipped down, the fabric cascading over her breasts, past her hips, pooling on the thick carpet.

His eyes darkened, his gaze pausing on her pink satin bra. It swept over her navel to the tiny matching panties, down the length of her legs to the sparkling shoes.

“One in a million,” he whispered in her ear.

His hand closed over her breast and he kissed that first spot on her neck.

She knew she should look away, close her eyes and safely drown in the sensations of his touch. But she watched while he unhooked her bra. He set her breasts tumbling free. Then he let his fingertips roam from the curve of her hip, to the indentation of her naval, to the mound of her breast and her pearled nipples.

He touched and fondled while her temperature rose and her lungs dragged in air. When his hand dipped under her panties, urgency overwhelmed her. She turned in his arms, meeting his lips, tangling her limbs around him while his hand drove her to heights of passion.

“You are incredible,” he rasped between kisses, peeling off the flimsy panties.

She pushed off his jacket, then struggled with his tie.

He tore off the new shirt and they came together, skin on skin, finally. He embraced her, held her tight, strong arms wrapped firmly around her as he explored every nuance of her mouth.

Then he lifted her and carried her to the big bed, yanking back the covers to deposit her on the crisp sheets. She lay on her back, watching as he stripped off his clothes.

When he was naked, he gazed down. He took in her disheveled hair, his eyes moving over her breasts to the shadow of her thighs, down the length of her legs. Then he smiled.

She realized she still wore her shoes.

She couldn’t help but grin sheepishly in return.

“One of the things I love best about you,” he said, coming to lie next to her on the mattress.

He renewed his exploration of her body, and she returned the favor, reveling in the taut muscles of his shoulders and arms, his washboard stomach and the strength of his hips and thighs. She kissed her way over his salty skin while he found her sensitive and erotic spots, the crook of her knee, the inside of her thigh, the tips of her nipples.

Then he rolled on top, his solid weight pinning her satisfyingly to the mattress. He took a second with a condom, then stared straight in her eyes.

She flexed her hips upward and felt him sliding inside. Her head tipped back and her eyes fluttered closed. Her world contracted to the cloud of sensation that was Tuck. His scent surrounded her. His heat enveloped her. His fingertips were magic and his lips were delicious.

His rhythm was slow and steady. First her bones melted to nothing. Then her limbs began to buzz. His pace increased and she couldn’t contain her moans. Wave after wave of passion washed over and through her.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind had gone into a free fall. And then the world burst open, and she cried out his name, hanging on tight, never wanting to let go.

Nine

Tuck knew that making love couldn’t have been an easy decision for Amber. But for him it had been the easiest path, and definitely the most pleasurable path.

He eased onto his side, taking his weight from her and gathering her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For?” she whispered back. “Was that not your best work?”

He wanted to laugh, but he was afraid it would be the wrong reaction. “I know you weren’t sure.”

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