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Once Bree had locked her apartment door, they removed their warm outdoor jackets, and Rylan stooped to remove Papadum’s leash. As he straightened and turned toward the kitchen, Bree reached for his hand...and everything slowed. He wasn’t sure who made the first move—maybe they both acted at the same time—but their lips met, and his resolve faded.

Can’t do this.

The thought was a faint echo, almost drowned out by a passion that was instant and raging. Bree’s fingertips traced the muscles of his back as her lips parted and her tongue caressed his. If he didn’t stop this soon, he would be lost...

Breathing hard, he broke the kiss and took a step back. Bree watched him with wide-eyed wonder. The silence between them stretched, became awkward, then tipped over into uncomfortable.

Coming back here had been a bad idea. But not coming back here wasn’t an option. How was he supposed to protect her from a distance? Self-control. That was the answer. All he had to do was forget how much he wanted her, get a grip on his emotions and stay professional.

“Um, coffee.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

Bree stepped up close, took ahold of his arms and drew them around her waist. Rylan resisted the temptation to groan out loud.

“That was what I wanted. But there’s something—or someone—I want more.” A little of the light faded from her eyes as she scanned his face. “Unless...?”

How much worse could this situation get? Until he met Bree, Rylan had never known there was such a thing as the woman of his dreams. Now, she was in his arms, and her beautiful lower lip was quivering because she thought he was about to turn her down. He already knew how fragile she was. How could he be the one to hurt her?

“Bree, you must know how much I want you.” He tightened his arms around her. Always a good way to keep your distance. “I just wonder if this is the best idea. You know, with us working together...”

She gave a relieved laugh. “Is that all? Because we’re not exactly employed by the same company.” Rising up on her tiptoes, she whispered against his lips. “And I won’t tell if you don’t.”

That whole self-control thing? Yeah, that wasn’t working out quite the way he’d planned. Bree gave a little squeal as he swung her off her feet and marched her out of the living area.

“Other direction,” she murmured into the curve of his neck. “You’re heading for the guest bathroom.”

Rylan turned on his heel, finding her bedroom and closing the door just before Papadum could follow them inside. When he set her on her feet, the smile in Bree’s eyes nearly sent him to his knees. Desire surged through him, savage and fierce, setting his blood alight. Alongside it, there was a deeper sensation that mirrored the swelling tide of passion with a soft tenderness that astonished him.

Despite the urgency firing through his body, he wanted to savor the perfection of that moment. Of how it felt to be with her. Of how he could search his whole life and never feel this good again.

Bree gave him a quizzical look, but he smiled into her eyes before leaning down to kiss her deeply, his own need reflected in the quiver that ran through her body. He pressed his tongue against hers, feeling her, learning her, tasting her. Teasing, they drew back just enough to let the tension build, breath warm on each other’s lips before drawing closer again.

The next kiss heated up. Still slow, dragging out the excitement, savoring it, building the fervor, feeling every nuance. When they broke apart once again, they were both breathing hard.

“Sure this is what you want?” Rylan managed to get the words out.

“I practically begged you.” Bree slid a hand under his sweatshirt, her soft touch causing his stomach muscles to tighten.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“This is what I want.” She smiled into his eyes. “You are what I want.”

Feeling as though his heart had developed an extra beat, he drew her to him, his hands sliding down to her butt. Lifting her into him, he molded her body intimately to his.

Bree’s fingers moved lower, following the trail of hairs down past his navel and inside the waistband of his jeans. Her fingertips stoked the fire until it became a furnace. In a flurry of hands and lips, jeans, sweatshirts, boots and socks were flung aside. Scooping Bree up, Rylan deposited her on the bed.

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