Page 32 of Winters Heat

Colby’s hard body held her still. Mia just existed. No thinking. No worrying. Nothing. She felt her limp, loose body sprawled on rumpled sheets. Numb satisfaction pulsed. Her fingertips tickled. Blood slowed its screaming rush in her ears. The taste of his kiss lingered, robust and vibrant, on her tongue.

That incredible ride was more than memorable. Repercussions of Colby ricocheted up, down, and all around her mind and body.

It felt like a night of firsts. The first time a man hovered over her, his stomach damp with their perspiration. Though it wasn’t. The first time a man made her cry out his name. No, thatwasa first. She truly lost control and begged. She cried his name in need and thanksgiving without thought or motivation.Yes, definitely firsts.

This night was different. His piston-powered force drove her to the edge and fell with her. She shuddered, recalling the pained look on his face, his teeth gritted, and muscles contracting around her. He held out for her.

He looked Herculean and chiseled, scarred and battle-ridden. The most handsome man to ever lay eyes on her was now lyingon her. And if he stayed like this much longer, Colby could ask her to gun down a bad guy, and she’d pull the trigger without question.

His harsh stubble grazed her chin, his forehead meeting hers. The air was hard to breath, and she sighed.

This is too much like… Something more.

And she didn’t wantsomething more. She could go with this tonight, letting her fantasy run to its full potential. Butmorewith him was unrealistic. More might very well kill her.

It was dangerous, far more so than gunfights and secret lists. Men like him needed physical release, the clinging of a woman crying out his name. It was good for the ego, good for his game.

“Are you okay, Mia?” His tenor raked a level lower than a rumble.

And then he asked about her feelings? It was too much. She nodded his question away, discounting the weight in his voice, and the tightening in her chest.

The room smelled warm and potent. Like the virile man enveloping her. She’d savor their encounter, but it wouldn’t last nearly as long as she needed it to.

Their breaths and the hum of the air conditioning served up the white noise. A quiet intensity. The calm after the storm. Heck, the calm after the hurricane.

Colby picked his head up and locked eyes with hers. Their fire, the deep brooding that burned in his irises, ignited a heated tremor in her all over again. Shivers ran across her skin. He leaned down to kiss her. Hard and deliberate. The harsh scruff on his face, and the supple slide of his delving tongue made her want to sign up for another round.

“Good. Me, too.” He broke from her but lay close on his side. An arm hung round her waist, hooking their bodies together, maintaining their link. A soothing finger toyed with her belly button, rounding in and out of the shallow indentation.

He loomed like an ominous mountain chain next to her, and she couldn’t help but admire the compact definition of his shoulders and the corded grooves between each ripple of muscles. Solid everywhere, even while relaxed. He was a warrior’s warrior. It made her mouth water.

Colby rolled off the bed. An icy earthquake wicked across her skin. He lumbered toward the bathroom, stretching his arms high overhead, making every muscle from his neck to his ass flex. Her lungs hurt, and only then did she realize she forgot to breathe.

His body was of a caliber that action movie heroes aspired to attain. He leaned over the bathroom sink, twisted the faucet on, and covered his face. After a second splash of water, he let it run, steam rising, framing his profile. Hinged at the waist, folded arms resting on the bathroom counter, he hung his head lax in the flickering bathroom light.

Uh-oh.That wasn’t a good stance.

That seemed a whole lot like regret. And she wouldn’t handle his remorse well. He’d gone hot and cold on her before. She didn’t expect it then, and she didn’t now. What was that saying?Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

She stared at the ceiling again. Maybe he realized he was stuck with her until Virginia. The one night stand that he couldn’t leave.Whoopsie. Sorry about your luck, Rambo.

“Why are you here with me, Mia?” His head still hung over the running water.

She’d called it, and here it came. He would push her away, his repentance bubbling to the surface like a hot spring. It was so dang cliché. She kept a laugh to herself and pressed her lips flat.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m not the clingy type.” She didn’t want to play the bedroom equivalent of Twenty Questions.

“Christ, Mia. That’s not what I meant.” He tilted his head toward her, raking his eyes across her face. He looked mad, or was that annoyance?

“Well then, Colby, what did you mean?” Sarcasm wasn’t her friend right now, but the snarky shake of her head said otherwise. “That type of question. Your timing. It’s clear to me. No need to backpedal.”

“I meant why haven’t you called the cops? Why are you okay with everything that’s happened so far? Asking why you’re here wasn’t supposed to be an inquisition until you made it one.”

The heck with his interrogation retreat. He knew the answer. There was one reason he was so sure she’d go with him, forcefully or not, in the first place.

“I told you. It was my client’s dying request.”

“No, bullshit. That’s not an acceptable excuse, and you know it.”

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