His mouth detoured from the button to the tops of her breasts.

It was hard to breathe. Her chest reached for him and the tingling in her nipples told her they wanted contact. Only Matt didn’t seem in a hurry.

Maybe it was time to show him what she wanted.

Erin tugged at his shirt and slid her hands under it. This was perfect; the feel of his taut body under the splay of her fingers, his lips on her skin. The touch of a loving man whose goal was to bring her pleasure and not pain.

He popped the last button free and slid her shirt to meet his jacket on the counter. In turn, she pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor.

The laughter over the fumbling of keys and opening of doors was gone; replacing it was a concentration of energy that buzzed like an open circuit in the room.

Matt reached for her, scooting her closer to the edge of the counter, and wrapped her in his arms. Chest to chest, skin touching, he accepted her tilted head and kissed her hard. Without warning, the clasp on her bra released and Matt shoved the unneeded clothing aside.

Hard lips softened when he moved his attention to the needy tips of her breasts. His tongue rolled one nipple and moved to the next.

Erin’s head fell back between her shoulders, and her legs tightened around him. “This feels so wonderful,” she told him.

“Yes, it does.” He cupped the breast he was inspecting with his mouth, held the weight of it. She’d not been blessed with large breasts, but the size of them seemed to suit her frame, and from the way Matt was latching on, he appreciated what she had.

Her bottom was losing feeling the longer she sat on the kitchen counter, and the desire to feel Matt stretched out alongside her was becoming a physical need.

“I have a bedroom,” she reminded him.

He nibbled on her nipple.

“Oh . . . the couch is closer,” she sighed.

Matt seemed to have other ideas. He tugged at the button on her pants and stopped kissing her long enough to gauge her expression.

Damn . . . she was really starting to love that smile. Confident, cocky. Matt.

“It’s going to be a little difficult to take those off with me sitting on them.”

He looked down. “You have a point.”

She giggled.

Matt swooped her off the counter. This time he held her ass with both hands and squeezed as he took the few steps to the couch and sat her on the arm.

“Lift,” he instructed.

She did and he wiggled off her pants and panties at one time.

Erin reached for the button of his jeans.

He pushed his hips away. “Not yet.”

“Shy?”

Strong hands encouraged her to sit on the edge of the couch. “There is nothing shy about me. And when I’m done with you, you’ll wonder where I’ve been all your life.”

She shook her head. “That sounds like a line.”

His eyes lost focus as he dropped to his knees. Their gazes locked. “No. I simply want you to think the same way I am.”

It took a moment for her brain to wake up to the meaning of his words. As it did, Matt pushed her knees farther apart and lowered his kiss to her sex.

Erin lost it. All thoughts of bad lines and the fact that Matt wasn’t completely undressed fled. His touch and the way he worked to find the spots she responded to the most, and the constant pressure that teased just enough and delivered even more, was too much.

She braced herself with one hand behind her, her back arched until she couldn’t hold herself up any longer. Her back met the sofa and her hips were up on the arm like an offering plate full of sexual sacrifices. And Matt took and took. And the moment when she felt the heat building she reached for his head and held on as he pushed her over the edge of sanity. He kept touching her until she had to push him away or risk screaming.

So completely lax, she didn’t have it in her to be embarrassed. Even when he smiled at her.

“Is it working?” he asked from the intimate space between her legs.

“What?” Were they talking about something before he took her away from the universe?

“Not sure?” he asked, teasing. He lifted her hips off the arm of the couch and scooted her whole body up. “I have more.”

She honestly couldn’t remember what they’d been saying.

It didn’t matter. Matt was kicking away his jeans, his erection fully prepared to do more.

He was a beautiful man. In every way.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked as he looked down at her.

At first, his question caught her off guard. Then she realized he was considering how she might feel if he was on top of her. Holding her down. And yeah. That might not be the best way this first time.

Erin sat up and pushed to one end of the sofa. “Lie down.”

He handed her a condom and took his time stretching out.

The packet in her hand laughed at her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen one of these.”

Matt ran a hand up her arm. “Do you remember where it goes?”

The man made her laugh. She couldn’t remember ever laughing during sex. But then, she . . . No! She wouldn’t go there. This was about the two of them, and all thoughts and emotions that would follow had to come later. They couldn’t be allowed room to fester now.

Erin tore the packet open and removed the wet latex.

Matt guided her hand to him. The color of her fingernail polish caught her attention as she wrapped her fingers around him slowly. When she looked at him, his eyes were closed and that seemed to give her permission to touch him more. And she did. Part of her wanted to touch him the way he had her, but that might be pushing her into the past a little too quickly. And the last thing she wanted to do now was find a need to talk about summer fruit.

So she gave him pleasure with her hand, her fingers finding the soft places, the hard places, and the ones that were adding lubrication without the condom.

Without realizing what she was doing, her fingertip caught a drop and she brought it to her lips. He tasted different. Smelled like heaven.

“Ah, damn.”

Matt had opened his eyes and was watching her.

She bit her lip and smiled. The condom went on, and she crawled up the length of him. Their lips met and Matt’s arms circled her back and ran over every place on her body he couldn’t touch before.

He seemed content just like this. Kissing her, touching her. Not once did he attempt to take control. Then, as if he caught her thoughts, he stopped kissing her long enough to direct those soft eyes on hers. “Your pace, your time.”

So many emotions swelled and threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Erin blinked several times to stop them while she bent her knee and draped it over him. Like the motorcycle, the man under her hummed. “Slow. Okay?” she asked.

Matt ran his hands to her hips and helped lift her at the right angle.

He was right there. “You sure?”

She braced her hands on his shoulders and nodded.

Together they met in the middle and paused. The length of him, the feel of him, was filled with pleasure and pressure. Because she knew he was waiting for her cue, Erin leaned down, kissed him, and started to move.

Matt whispered in her ear saying all the things she wanted to hear. How she was making him feel, how beautiful she was, how he wanted her to crave this time together. Only when the intensity became too much, and her hips moved faster, frantic, did Matt stop talking. Her orgasm was fast approaching and instead of keeping it from him, she told him and he kept the pace steady until she called his name. Her body pulsed around him, his breath so labored with the force of his resistance she could tell was torturing him.