I opened my mouth to say something but he kissed me again, lots of tongue, his other hand going up my shirt and sliding along the skin at my back. It felt good, good enough for me to go with it.

He ended the deep kiss and kissed me lightly, once, twice, again and I pulled the ponytail out of his hair and slid my fingers in. His hair was silky thick and that felt good too.

“Vance, seriously –” I whispered, my fingers tangled in his hair then I lost my train of thought when his hand came out of my pants. He pulled away and then both hands slipped my t-shirt up. My fingers untangled from his hair, my arms rose with the t-shirt and then it was gone.

Um…

Yikes.

“Two seconds,” I said, beginning to feel the edge of desperation.

He wasn’t listening to me; he was staring at my body. One of his arms held the bottom half of me to him at my waist while his other hand explored my side, my ribcage and then up. He cupped my breast over the bra, his eyes watching his hand then the tips of his fingers traced the lace across my breast.

My desperation disintegrated and with it my ability to breathe in a normal rhythm.

All right, well, whatever. So he discovered I was a virgin at the last possible second. Who cared? People were starving in Africa; there were bigger things to worry about.

But I’d worry about them later.

I leaned into him, pressing myself against him with his hand between us at my breast and I kissed him.

May was right; people had been doing this for ages and instinct kicked in. It went from slow and sweet to hot and hungry in a flash.

Our lips disengaged, my mouth moved along his jaw, my tongue tasting under his ear. I put my hands in his jacket, pushed it off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. Then I did the same as he did with my t-shirt and tugged off his turtleneck.

“Dear Christ,” I whispered when I caught a look at his chest and abs, his stomach muscles tight and defined, “maybe I will work with Luke and Mace if I can get as ripped as you.”

He pulled me into him then his hands began roaming my skin and his mouth went to my neck.

“Jules?” he called there and a thrill shivered across my skin at his voice vibrating against my neck.

“Mm?” My hand had moved between us, fingertips exploring the ridges of his abs. I felt them tighten at my touch and, at his reflex, a pleasant jolt shot between my legs.

“Not a good idea to mention Luke and Mace right now.”

“Oh,” I muttered, my fingers halting and I felt like an idiot, “sorry.”

He kissed me again, I forgot about feeling like an idiot when he pulled his h*ps back and undid my pants. He pushed them down my h*ps and they fell away. Before I could feel weird about standing in my living room in nothing but underwear and high heels, his arm went around my waist and he lifted me clear of my slacks and set me down, leaned back and looked at me, full-body.

That’s when I started to feel weird about standing in my living room in nothing but underwear and high heels.

This lasted two seconds then he yanked me into him, my body slammed against his and he kissed me again, hotter and hungrier than he’d ever kissed me before. Then with light kisses and hands sliding down my ass, he walked me back, toward the couch.

“You do anything to change your body, I’ll shackle you to the bed,” he murmured against my mouth.

“Really?” I asked, just because I felt what he said needed a response. I was too occupied by trying to figure out how I could get his pants off to care about his answer.

“Why does it take superhuman effort to get anything out of you but while we’re havin’ sex, you won’t shut up?”

The backs of my legs hit the couch and I went down. Vance came down on top of me. His weight and warmth felt good and I put my arms around him and looked at him.

“You were the one who said something.”

“Shut up, Jules.”

I rolled my eyes.

He grinned at me and moved partially to the side.

Then all of a sudden his hand slid down my belly and I felt his fingers press between my legs. This invasion came quickly and I probably should have been shocked. Instead it felt good, so good, my h*ps bucked involuntarily and my lips parted.

Wow.

His fingers pressed deeper and that felt even better.

I hooked my leg around his hip instinctively giving him easier access and I lifted my head and kissed him, our mouths open, my tongue slid inside. At this his hand went away but came back inside my panties this time and he touched me, the first time anyone touched me there (other than myself, of course). It felt so damned good, incredibly good, otherworldly good, I stopped kissing him and moaned into his mouth.

His fingers moved, my h*ps moved, his fingers moved more, my nails scraped his back and, after awhile of this, I felt something begin to build inside me, something exciting and beautiful and my neck arched with the sheer pleasure of it.

“Look at me Jules,” he commanded softly.

I dropped my chin and with effort opened my eyes and looked at him.

The moment I did, his finger slid inside me.

My bones turned to water.

“Vance…” I breathed.

The second I muttered his name his eyes went so intense it felt like they burned into me. His finger slid out and then back in again and I pulled him to me as I pressed up toward him.

Then his body stilled, his finger froze and his head came up.

I stared and it was as if ice water had been poured over my skin. He’d figured out I was a virgin.

God dammit, I thought.

“Vance –” I began.

“Quiet, Princess,” he whispered.

It was my turn to freeze.

Gently his hand moved away and he jackknifed off me but once he gained his feet, he leaned over and brought me up with him.

He kissed me swiftly then said, “Get dressed. Get your gun. After I leave, arm the doors and windows and call the control room.”

Then he let me go, went across the room, tagged his sweater off the floor and pulled it on. I stared at him, stunned immobile as he pulled his hair back into a ponytail.

He looked at me. “Now, Jules. Someone’s out there.”

My body came unstuck and I dressed quickly. I had my pants on when he made a noise like a half-whistle. I looked up at him and he tossed me his phone. He had his jacket in his hand.

“Control room,” he said low and then he pulled his gun out of his jacket, dropped the jacket on the armchair and he took off on silent feet.

I yanked my shirt on, following him down the hall. By the time I made it to the kitchen, he was gone.

I locked the door, armed the alarm and went to the dresser under my bed platform and got my gun. I stood in the hall and I started to scroll his phonebook but it was the first choice. I hit the green button. It barely rang.