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His answer seemed solemn, and she didn’t like that, not after what they’d just shared. “Where did you go just now?”

“Just . . . thinking.”

Crystal was beginning to worry at his calm mood. “What about?”

“I was thinking that it never seems to matter what form our sexual games take, it always ends up the same way.”

“And what way is that?”

“I always end up wanting more. No matter what, I always end up craving you like a drug.”

“I hope you know it’s the same for me,” she said as her eyelids began to get heavy.

“I’ve kept you awake long enough,” he said. “Sleep, angel. Call me when you wake up so I can have a good day.”

No way, not so fast, Crystal thought. She did need at least one small thing confirmed before she let him go. “I loved what we just shared, Mac.”

“Good, because there’s more to come. Now, rest up for me. You will need it for what I have planned for you.”

She sighed. “Sweet dreams, Mac.”

“Always sweet dreams of you, angel,” Mac replied as he waited for her to hang up. Just as the line died, Mac was smiling. He rose up out of bed and pulled on his clothing, then left his bedroom. He headed for his home office to get some work done. Because sure as hell he wouldn’t be getting any sleep. Not in a cold, empty bed. He’d only lie there all night wishing Crystal was there.

Two days had gone by and all she’d gotten from Trent was text messages. When they did pin each other down long enough to talk on the phone, they’d chatted for hours. Before they hung up, Trent had wriggled a date out of her for the following Friday.

Now that the night had arrived, though, Crystal was a freaking nervous wreck. She paced her living room waiting for Trent. She was the kind of shaky, sweaty-palms nervous that she had never felt before. It had snuck up on her and she’d not even recognized what it was at first. But now here she was, worried and anxious about seeing Trent. She seriously couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt this way. It made her defensive, and that was never good. A defensive woman was the equivalent of a cornered mountain lion.

When Mac had called her in the middle of the night, Crystal had let herself go, and it had been wonderful. She had so completely lost control and Mac had loved her so thoroughly that she was still feeling the vibrations from it. Her entire body felt alive tonight. He was an amazing lover, and the fact that they’d only been talking on the phone didn’t seem to dampen it one bit, although it had left her wishing she’d said yes to him when he’d offered to come to her apartment. He had managed to charm her, to weave a kind of magic between them, binding her irrevocably to him. The frightening part was that she liked feeling bound to him.

Now she couldn’t help wondering if he’d done it before like that with other women. She really, really didn’t like that idea. As a matter of fact, just thinking of him doing that with another woman made her feel sad. She wanted that to be reserved for her alone. But she again had the nagging feeling that she was fooling herself into believing she was special to him and Trent. Don’t go there, she told herself for the millionth time. She couldn’t go down that road. She needed to keep a clear head.

Looking at the outfit she had chosen, however, made her cringe. Her mind might want to remain detached, but her body—and, more importantly, her heart—were telling her other things. The tight blue skirt was designed to send a man’s libido into overdrive in six-po

int-zero seconds. Of course the silver “do me” pumps were the icing on the cake. Did she want answers, or did she just want him to ravish her?

“Okay, don’t answer that one.”

“Talking to yourself, baby?”

Crystal spun around at the deep velvet sound of Trent’s voice. How did he do that? He was the one and only man who had the ability to sneak up on her like that. It was eerie how silent he could be. She stood there, not speaking, and allowed him to look at her. He was his usual bold self, she thought, hiding her smile. His eyes moved like a lover’s touch as they drifted slowly over her from head to toe. Obviously, Trent hadn’t been the only man to look at her with heat in his eyes. There had been other interested looks from the opposite sex. She knew she wasn’t horrible to look at, but there was something different about the way Trent stared. It made her feel beautiful.

From the very start, Crystal had wanted to please him. She knew he liked what he saw, but she had wanted more than physical pleasure with him. The easy teasing between them had vanished now. They both seemed to want something more tonight. He seemed to be the only man besides Mac who could see beyond her face. Something in his expression, his possessiveness, told her he knew it, too. He knew that what she felt for him was different.

With him standing so handsome in the doorway to her apartment, staring at her as if he had a right to her, what did she do? She melted. Like ice cream in the summer, she felt like she was quickly reduced to a mere puddle at his feet.

“Damn, you look good enough to eat, Crystal.”

His voice was a low growl, filled with aching desire. Crystal could see as well as hear the intensity in him. Everything in her screamed to tell him to come and sate his hunger, but she had to get them on track or the night would quickly disintegrate into an orgy of orgasms. She knew that look he got whenever he was aroused, and he had that look now, which only served to arouse her in turn. Enough was enough.

“Wait, I thought we were going on a date. What happened to that?”

Trent groaned, “And we will, I promise.” He moved closer and closed the door behind him. “But I see no reason to deny ourselves dessert first, do you?”

His smile was predatory. The man was lethal, that was all there was to it. She backed up a step, but kept her voice firm. “Do not come any closer.” Then she smiled up at him despite her resolve.

“God, you are so beautiful, baby.”

Her mouth parted to say something, anything, but he stole the words with a kiss.

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