“When you imagine it, multiply it times ten…” He went after her lips again. He pulled her hard against him and slid a hand up her side to briefly cover her breast. He feasted on her neck, jaw, ear, temple, mouth, then just held her still and close.

“Times a hundred,” she whispered.

They were locked on each other for another five minutes and she was the one to pull back. “I could do this forever, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself and cry. If you’re going, you should go while I still have some dignity.”

Dignity he understood. He backed off a bit and gave a nod. “I’ll think of you as the best part of my summer, Katie,” he said.

“I hope you can save the company,” she said. “And thank you for making me feel so special.”

He gave her waist a squeeze. “You are special. Don’t you ever forget that.”

And he turned from her, going to his bike.

Eight

She hurried into the cabin because her breath had started coming in little gasps and in a second she knew she was going to fall apart. Inside, she paced in the small space, plunging her hand into her hair and making small whimpering sounds. Why, why, why couldn’t things be different? she asked herself.

Oh, she was going to cry all night, she knew it. She was flat-ass bonkers over him and did not feel better off this way. But he was probably right—if it was only going to end suddenly, leaving her grasping for something that just wasn’t there, it was better that he was gone.

Better? she asked herself. Wouldn’t it be easier to adjust to his leaving after a couple of drop-dead orgasms than never knowing? Why was she always so careful? What did she have to lose, really?

Screw it, she thought. She might have sent him off but she knew where that little Riordan cabin was and could still have her unforgettable couple of hours. After all, the boys were tucked in at Uncle Conner’s house and Leslie, so optimistic, would never let them come home before morning.

She grabbed her purse and shot out the door.

And there he was, sitting on the motorcycle.

She skidded to a stop on the porch. “Ah…before you leave…”

“Yeah?” he said, sitting up straighter.

“I’ve been thinking…about a couple of hours…”

“Yeah?”

She shook her head. “Don’t go yet, Dylan.”

His leg came over the bike and he vaulted off, eating up the space between them in three long strides, leaping up the porch steps and pulling her into his arms, covering her mouth in a searing kiss that demanded every emotion she had. His hands were all over her, running up and down her back and pulling her against him, up her sides and covering her br**sts, tangled in her hair, pulling her face onto his. He was murmuring her name and she was clutching him close so he wouldn’t fly away.

Dylan walked her backward into the cabin and kicked the door closed when they were inside, but they didn’t get far. Standing there, just inside the door, he pulled her shirt over her head, pulled his over his head, and he began kissing her br**sts through the lace of her skimpy bra. Before she could see what happened, that undergarment was gone and he was attending to her erect ni**les—a lick, a kiss, a suck. It brought the deepest of sounds from her, her fingers in his hair.

He began kissing his way down her belly while his fingers deftly worked the button on her jeans and kissed his way below her waist just as he slid them over her h*ps and down, down, down. With the jeans went the tiniest thong. He fell to one knee before her and pulled off her right shoe, then the right leg of her jeans, and his lips were teasing her lower belly, upper thigh, his fingers moving deeper. With his hands on her hips, he drew her toward him. As she cried out, he lifted that bare leg and pulled it over his shoulder and all of a sudden, he had his mouth on her softest parts. “Dylan!” she cried out, knotting her hands in his hair. He devoured her hungrily, like a starving man, licking the deepest part of her. A minute inside the door and she was exploding!

“God,” he cried, going in for more. “Sweet heaven…”

Her knees gave out with pleasure so electrifying she could no longer stand, but he caught her and gently lowered her to the floor. His fingers replaced his mouth and he found her lips with his. “You are the best thing I’ve ever…” He kissed her deeply. “Katie, I’m not sure I’ll be able to get enough....” But while he murmured against her lips, he freed her from the left shoe and the rest of her jeans. His belt came open and disappeared and she reached down to open his jeans.

And she had him in her hand. He groaned in beautiful agony. He instinctively moved toward her, probing gently, wanting all of her. He was slipping inside and he wasn’t going to last long. He was so right, the sensation of being inside her was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever felt. He went into a trance at once.

“Please,” she whispered. “Dylan. Please find that condom so we can…”

“Condom,” he said. “On it.” And he sat back just long enough to get rid of the rest of his clothing and get that protection from his back pocket.

And then he went still for a second. He lowered himself over her gently, touching her lips. “I know this is going too fast, baby, but we’ll take our time a little later. I know I sound like a madman, but I need to be inside you.”

She nodded, her eyes glassy and wide. “I need that, too.”

“I’ll go easy…”

“Don’t go easy…”

He gave it his best effort, moving into her slowly, but she grabbed his butt and pulled him into her and he lost his mind. His h*ps began to move, hers moved in concert and they were slamming against each other in a magnificent rhythm that took about ten strokes to make her freeze and hold him, cry out his name and squeeze down on him with all her internal muscles.

“Holy…” He couldn’t speak any further. All that escaped him was a powerful groan as he held himself for a moment, then pumped his h*ps and joined her. He pinched his eyes closed and held her hips. As the pleasure slowly let him breathe again, he kissed her everywhere—her eyelids, her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her br**sts…

And he held her, stroking her hair, her neck, touching her beautiful face. “Are you okay, honey?” he whispered.

“Hmm,” she said, giving a little nod, her eyes closed. “Possible rug burns....”

“My God, Katie…I wanted you so bad, I didn’t even get you to the couch. I think I went insane.”

She giggled. “When a girl says yes to you, she better stand back, huh?”

“Come on, sweetheart, let me get you to bed…”

“Just a minute, Dylan,” she whispered. “I’m trying to grow the bones back in my legs… Can’t we be still for just a minute more?”

“Yes,” he said, placing gentle kisses everywhere he could reach without separating them. “My God, I’m having aftershocks.”

“I’m weak,” she said softly. “Pleased, but totally limp…”

After a minute passed, he carefully lifted her and she looped her arms around his neck. “Don’t worry about growing your bones back. You’re not going to have to walk for a while,” he whispered. He carried her to the bed with his lips locked on hers. He put her down and climbed on beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Yeah, this is going to work better. Yeah, I like this,” he said, settling his lips against her neck and his hand over her breast. “Now we start over. Nice and slow.”

Dylan felt Katie stir against him and he instinctively pulled her closer. He wanted her again.

“Best sex of your life?” he asked in a whisper.

“I’m not ready to commit,” she whispered back.

He chuckled. “Was for me,” he said.

“But…”

“Seriously,” he said. “And it was for you, too.”

“Don’t go getting a big head, just because I had a couple of orgasms—”

“Four,” he said. “I gave you four and helped myself to two.”

“You’re counting?” she asked, rising up and looking down at him.

“I’m going to keep counting, too. I think you can reach your personal best.” He grinned at her.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I was sleeping, until you started wiggling around…” He nuzzled her neck. “I can do better. Just trust me…”

“We made love on the floor,” she murmured. “Ten feet from the bed…”

“Hmm. I think I lost my mind a little bit. Are there rug burns?” he asked, trying to roll her over. “I’ll give them a little kiss…” He found a couple of pink patches on her rump and did kiss them sweetly. Then he rolled her back and his hands and lips began to move over her body again.

“Boy, am I glad the rumors weren’t true.”

“What rumors?” he asked, his voice muffled.

“There were lots of them. I think the worst one had you in a drug-induced coma in an institution in New Zealand…”

He lifted his head from her breast. That one had appeared in The Star twenty years ago, shortly after Adele took him out of Los Angeles. “You know,” he said. She nodded. “How long have you known?”

“Well, I strongly suspected at the flat tire, then at the bar I was more sure, then when you told me your last name and a little about yourself, right before you kissed me, I was positive.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

She shrugged. “It appeared you didn’t want to talk about that Dylan Childress. If you’d brought up your Hollywood career, I would’ve said something. I admit to being curious about which parts are true, which aren’t. The press and rumors were pretty horrible. Liquor and drugs, an unbelievable number of girlfriends, crazy behavior, vandalism and general delinquency…”

“I was just a stupid kid…”

“I always wondered which parts of that were true…”

“Probably too much of what you read was true…”

“I read about the terrible incident that seemed like the end of it all—Roman’s drug overdose.”

“An accident,” he said. “I’m sure it was Roman being stupid, trying to get high, not get out.”

“And that’s when you kind of disappeared,” she said.

“My grandmother got me out of there, away from the insanity. She didn’t know what else to do, I think. She thought I needed to rehab, to put it simply. How many people around here know?”

“Les knows, but she won’t out you. I bet the number of Virgin River women who were in love with you when they were twelve is pretty limited. You probably don’t have to worry.”

He smiled at her. “You? Were you in love with me?”

“Oh, God, wildly. Madly. I sincerely believed we would meet somehow and you would marry me. But you went away and I threw you over for Jason Priestley. Later I threw him over for the Backstreet Boys. Then I got interested in boys my own age who were real. I had to finally accept the fact that Jason Priestley would never take me to the prom.”

“The Backstreet Boys,” he muttered. “Priestley—I can live with that. But the Backstreet Boys? Jesus, Katie.”

“It was a rough time…”

“So now will you tell everyone you can think of that you had sex with Dylan Childress? The ex-star?”

“Is that what you’re used to?” she asked, knowing the answer.

“It’s happened. That’s why there haven’t been that many…”

“Like who?” she asked. “Who does a guy like you hook up with?”

He gave a little shrug. “Women who didn’t want a boyfriend. Never local girls—they want to get married. Almost strangers, but not total strangers. Sometimes I’d meet someone when we flew charters—there was an expiration date on those relationships. I was kind of hit and run…involved with people I probably wouldn’t see again…”