Friends. Lovers. Next-door neighbors.

Family.

Brooke was already all of those things to him.

The soft lapping of the water on the lakeshore suddenly seemed too loud as the silence drew out between them in her kitchen. Rafe was never nervous. Not when he was doing dangerous undercover work, and certainly not when he was with a woman.

But being alone in the kitchen with a beautiful girl with big green eyes had his heart thumping hard and fast in his chest.

If he was a gentleman, if he had any honor at all, he’d let her say whatever it was that had her worrying her lower lip between her teeth, and then give her space if that was what she wanted. But nothing could have stopped him from reaching for her. He simply had to hold her, had to feel her soft skin heat up beneath his fingertips, had to feel her shudder at his touch.

Only, for the first time, she didn’t lean into him, didn’t press her cheek to his or slide her arms around his neck. He could feel her heart beating just as hard as his was.

"Your sister—"

"Likes to poke her nose in where it doesn’t belong."

Brooke looked far too serious. He wanted her to smile again, wanted so badly to see her cheeks flush with pleasure before her lids fluttered shut the way they always did when he kissed her.

"She loves you," Brooke said as she gazed up at him. Her gaze was full of desire, but there was worry there, too. "I’ve longed to be wild for so long that when I saw you again, I lost sight of anything else. I lost sight of the fact that friends should always look out for each other. I’ve only been thinking about myself, about what I want. You tried a dozen different ways out on the beach to keep your distance, to explain why we shouldn’t do this, but I wouldn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen to what you wanted, because I was so busy thinking about myself."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I’m dying to be with you, Brooke? How many different ways do I have to show you?" His words were hard-edged with frustration, his hands flexing on the upper curves of her hips as he pulled her closer. "Hell, I wanted you so damned bad last night that I locked you in a closet and took exactly what I wanted. I told you it was for you, that I was there to soothe your ache, but it was for me, Brooke. Me. Because I couldn’t wait one more goddamned second to feel you, to taste you."

"I couldn’t wait, either," she told him, but even as she tried to absolve him of his guilt, he knew he had plenty to make up to her.

"Our first time together shouldn’t have been that fast, that rushed. Let me make it up to you."

Her breath was coming faster now, her br**sts pressing sensuously against his chest as she gazed up at him. He was surprised when her mouth curved into a small smile a moment later.

"We’re both being silly, aren’t we, arguing over which one of us has been more selfish? Maybe," she said with a slow smile that transformed her face into a beauty that took his breath away, "we could argue, instead, over who can give the other person more pleasure tonight?"

The weight that had been pressing on his chest all day finally began to lift as he smiled down at her.

"We’re not going to argue about anything at all," he said as he slid his hands down her hips to cup her soft curves. "Because tonight is going to be all about you. All about your pleasure. All about your needs."

He could feel her heartbeat speed up against his chest as she said huskily, "I like that idea. A lot. Only, last night I never did get to—"

He covered her mouth with his before she could remind him of what she’d been about to do in the linen closet. The problem was, that vision of her starting to drop to her knees in front of him had burned into his retinas, and he’d been hard as a rock thinking about it nearly every minute since last night.

He moved his hands from her hips and up over her gorgeous hourglass figure so that he could slide his fingers into her hair and tilt her head at exactly the right angle to plunder her mouth with his tongue. And then neither of them was wary anymore as their hot kiss pushed away any concerns they had about hurting each other.

Pleasure.

That was what they’d focus on tonight—the only thing that mattered.

* * *

Yesterday, there’d been plenty of time to get nervous, to plan and anticipate. But the past twenty-four hours had been so full of unexpected guests and emotions that Brooke was almost surprised to finally find herself in Rafe’s arms.

But, oh, as he kissed her and she melted into his arms the way she did every time his lips touched hers, she knew there had never been any reason for nerves or worries. Nothing had ever been as natural as the passion between them—two friends who had been destined to become so much more.

And it was their past—all the little connections that had been forged over summer barbecues and sand-castle contests between a young girl and a beautifully wild teenage boy—that made it so easy for her to dive headfirst into whatever their future held.

He took her hand and tugged her down the hall. "I’ve needed you in bed, naked beneath me, for forty-eight hours. I can’t wait another second for you, Brooke."

No one had ever talked to her this way before, with such frank desire, drawing pictures with words that had her shuddering with pleasure as much as any caress. Seconds later, Rafe had closed her bedroom door behind them and locked it. Already she knew that the sound of a lock clicking into place would forever be a sensual cue, a promise Rafe would make to her of the pleasure he was going to give her with his hands, his lips, his—

Brooke’s thoughts were stolen away as his mouth closed down over hers. God, just to kiss him like this—his tongue slicking against hers, his teeth gently nipping at her lower lip—was more pleasure than she’d ever thought to experience.

Every time until now, their kisses had been cut short, either by Rafe’s conscience kicking in, or by his siblings’ arrival. Tonight she would finally have enough time to truly learn not only the taste, the feel of him, but also all the ways the two of them could take their individual pleasures and multiply them together.

She flicked her tongue against the corner where his lips met, and the way his strong pectoral muscles jumped beneath her hands told her just how much he enjoyed it. Taking a slow, wet slide over his lower lip, she found the other corner and licked out against it. Delight strummed through her system at the way he responded to nothing more than the damp press of her tongue. She wanted to taste more of him, so much more, but she wasn’t anywhere near close to done with his lips yet.