“Oh, Jilly, I give them everything I’ve got. Know what I’d like to do?” he asked her. “I’d like to go up on the roof and have a look at the sunset from there. You game?”

She showed him a little smile. “I love it up there. You can see forever—almost all the way to the ocean.”

“Take me up to the roof, Jilly,” he said, his voice hoarse and his eyes glowing.

The climb was three flights and she heard him moan a little behind her as they tackled the last staircase. She looked over her shoulder. “Okay?”

“I should do more of this,” he said. “My leg still gets stiff and sometimes it’s not real strong. But I’m keeping up with you.”

“Just watch your step—there’s not much I can do if you fall off the roof.” But it wasn’t a dangerous roof—it was flat, about six by twelve, surrounded by an eighteen-inch tall, decorative, wrought-iron border. If this house had been built on the coast in the 1800s, the wife of a sea captain would have climbed up to the roof to scan the horizon, watching for the sight of sails, waiting for her man to return to her.

And when Colin reached the top he snatched off his hat, ran a hand over his head and said, “God.” He turned full circle and took in the view. “This is better than I imagined.”

“You like to be up high,” she said.

“Ironically, not so much. I’m kind of afraid of heights. A lot of pilots are. We like flying—we don’t like hanging close to edges of cliffs and stuff. This is good, though. Feels secure in a way.” He dropped down, sitting on the roof. “Come here,” he said. And when she sat, he pulled her between his long legs, his knees raised, her back against his chest, his arms around her waist, and they faced in the direction of the coast, the sunset. “Now see, that’s beautiful. I’m full of good ideas.”

“I sit up here and talk to my sister on the cell phone,” she told him. “The connection is weak on the first floor of the house and outside with all the trees. But up here it’s good. And I love it up here, especially at sunrise and sunset.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I spotted you the first time from up here.”

“That’s why this spot is all cleaned off—you come up here a lot….”

“I swept it so I could sit up here. I just haven’t gotten around to bringing up any chairs.”

He pulled the hair away from her neck and put his lips there. “Hmm. Nice,” he said. One hand slipped under her shirt. He sucked on her neck and grabbed a bare breast at the same time. “Hmm,” he said. “Even nicer. So glad you didn’t get overdressed.”

She laughed lightly, then he gave her nipple a tender pinch and she gasped with pleasure. She scooted farther back against him.

“Do me a favor, Jilly,” he whispered. “Unlace those boots for me.”

“You better tell me what’s going to happen here first,” she said.

“Anything you want,” he answered hoarsely. “Everything you want.”

“On top of the house?”

His other hand went under her shirt and he held a breast in each hand. “With the setting sun?” he asked. “Nice and easy, nice and slow, nice and out of your mind?”

“That’s a little crazy!”

“We’re not going to fall off—there’s a little fence. And I get the impression you are a little crazy.” He kissed her neck again. “You’re not any more tame than I am.”

“But I never knew it,” she said. “I thought I was on the very conservative side.” Then she groaned and reached for his boot laces, untying and loosening them. He used the toe of one to push off the heel of the other and within just a second, both boots were sitting behind him, out of the way. He reached a hand behind his neck, gathered up his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. “I’m scarred, Jilly. You should see it before it takes you by surprise and scares you. It might turn you off.”

She hated to have his hands off her br**sts, but she pushed them aside and turned toward him. Kneeling in front of him between his legs, sitting back on her heels, she saw the scarring. It wasn’t terrible but it was obvious. The texture of his skin was rough and discolored, kind of wavy. It ran down his neck, over his shoulder, down his upper arm, upper back, upper chest. There were also a couple of tattoos—a decorative armband on his left arm, some Asian lettering on the right side of his chest. The scarring stopped right at the lettering. She ran her small hand over the skin, very lightly, very carefully.

“This isn’t scary, Colin. Does it still hurt?”

He shook his head. “My leg sometimes gets stiff and my elbow drives me nuts, but I get better every day. I’m healed enough to make love.” And then he slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her mouth onto his, moving over her lips slowly, deeply, with heat and passion. While he had her in that lip-lock, he slipped a hand down the back of her sweatpants, rubbing her butt softly, sweetly. Next he pulled on her shirt, lifting it over her head and leaving her bare to his gaze. He sucked in his breath. “You are gorgeous.”

She laughed at him. “I think I’m probably average.”

He leaned toward her and tongued a nipple. “Hmm, not in my book. You stop my breath, you’re that beautiful.” He still had that shirt in his grip and shook it out. He reached around her and spread it on the roof behind her, easing her back onto it. Then he leaned over her and gave her br**sts a lot more serious attention. “Nothing, nothing average here. You taste better than I remembered. God, I want you so bad.”

“And this time, we’re ready?” she asked a little breathlessly.

“And able,” he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a small, square, foil packet. He put it in her hand. “And you’re in charge of safety.”

“Safety first,” she said, accepting the condom.

He spread her legs and lowered himself onto her, his mouth on her mouth, rubbing his erection against her parted legs. He moaned. “Good God…I hope you’re in a hurry.”

She reached a hand down between their bodies, just running it over the bulge in his pants, bringing another low moan from him.

“Sweetheart,” he said in a strained whisper. “I really need you out of these pants.” He was pulling on her sweats as he spoke. “Really. And really quick.”

“It’s only going to make it harder. Faster.”

“Baby, it can’t get much harder. And we’re going to have to go a little faster. I’m on a hair trigger here. You seriously turn me on.”

She didn’t resist him; she let him pull down the sweats, pull them over her knees and away. He flung them behind him and looked at her in the dusk, the sight of her n**ed making his breathing quicken. “Man,” he said, one big hand covering her crotch in a soft caress, one of his fingers sliding into the soft, moist folds. “Good. Oh, so good…”

She reached for the snap on his pants, found the zipper and drew it down, slipped her hand in for the briefest touch, but then his fingers on her clitoris caused her to almost lose her mind and she lay back down, arching up to him.

He covered her with his body and devoured her mouth in a consuming kiss, roving the inside of her mouth with his tongue, playing with her tongue, and then he licked a path down her body, laving her br**sts with his mouth, kissing his way down over her belly, spreading her legs and diving into her core with his tongue, moaning his pleasure all the time. She held on to his head, lifted her h*ps against his face, making her own desperate sounds while he tortured her with exquisite kisses.

And then he stopped, lifting his mouth up to hers. “You taste wonderful. I could get drunk on you. I want to stay down there for hours.”

“Umm,” she moaned. “Okay,” she said weakly.

He chuckled and pulled that foil packet from her hand. “You’re not going to be in charge of safety anymore—you’re not paying attention.”

“I am sooo paying attention,” she whispered, but her eyes never opened and she was reaching for him. “Oh God.” She sighed. “Hurry.”

“Hurry is what we’re all about right now,” he said. “Jilly, I have to be inside you. Tell me you’re ready….”

And then she felt him, holding himself above her with the strength of only one arm, gently probing in her very center.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked in a whisper.

“Okay…” She reached her hand down to touch him, to wrap around him, to lead him. And when she realized his length and girth, she sighed hungrily. She might’ve gasped. This was more man than she’d ever had in her hand, in her body.

“You worried about it?” he asked her.

“Worried,” she whispered. “And dying for it.”

“We’ll try to go slow and easy,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”

He gave her clitoris a few more strokes while he covered her mouth with his and he entered her in a long, slow, easy movement, burying himself deep within her, holding there while she got used to him. Then he started to move, slowly at first, but as she bent her knees and pushed against him he moved faster, harder, deeper. He left her mouth to suck on a nipple and that was the magic—she threw her head back, dug her heels in to lunge her pelvis against him, cried out and he felt it, felt her entire pelvis begin to tighten, shudder, vibrate, drenching him in a hot liquid.

“Oh, honey,” he whispered against her lips. “That’s it, that’s it….”

He held her tight against him with one big hand on her little rump, hanging on there as long as he could and when he sensed she was complete, he pounded into her in several hard, long strokes, letting himself go. To his shock and awe, she started to come again and the pleasure that gave him blew him to the next universe. He wanted to say the perfect thing about that, about how free and beautiful she was, but instead all he got out was a series of moans, grunts and grateful, unintelligible sounds. At the end of it all, breathless, he said, “My God. Sweet. Sweet!”

She went completely limp in his arms, head lolling, eyes closed, the faintest smile on her lips. He slipped his arms under her shoulders and tried to lift her but her head just dropped back. He chuckled softly, touched his lips to her exposed neck and asked, “Are you completely unconscious?”

“Maybe,” she whispered. “Ohhhh…”

“Let’s get you dressed,” he murmured between kisses.

“Not yet. In a minute.” And then she tilted her pelvis to keep him where he was, right inside.

“The sun’s going down. I don’t want you to get cold.”

“Then stay where you are and I won’t.”

“Jilly, Jilly, you’re a little greedy.”

“You would be too if you were me….” He pulled out, sitting back on his heels between her bent knees and she said, “Awww…”

“I’ll put you to sleep again later,” he said. “I’ll take you home with me tonight.”

“Why?” she said, struggling to sit up.

“Because I have a bed.”

“Do you have food?”

He nodded. “Nothing fancy, but food.”

“You could make me breakfast for dinner.” She reached behind her and grabbed her T-shirt. He held it for her to shrug into. Then she felt around. “Where are those sweats…”

It was dusk and both of them were running their hands around the roof looking for clothes. Finally Colin leaned over that little eighteen-inch wrought-iron fence and said, “Uh-oh.”

Jillian leaned over the rail and saw, on the roof of the second-story sunroom, one man’s boot, one man’s T-shirt, one cowboy hat, one woman’s fluffy slipper, one pair of powder-blue sweatpants and one small, gold, foil package, opened and empty. She looked at Colin. “Well, that pretty much tells the whole story.”