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that massage?”

“So ready. But good manners require me to offer you food or a drink first. Do you want anything?”

“Just you.”

She grasped his hand and led him to her bedroom.

“What’s all this?” he asked, taking in the scented candles and the soft, barely audible ocean sounds coming from her white-noise machine. His eyes widened when his gaze landed on the open jars of body butter in various trial flavors and the foil packets beside them.

“I figured we might as well make it a full sensory experience.”

She’d barely gotten the words out before he was using his larger, stronger body to back her toward the bed. Then, suddenly, she was on her back, feet still on the floor, and he was over her, kissing her again.

She pushed her hands up under his shirt, needing the skin-to-skin contact. He stood up and shrugged off his flannel shirt, and just that quickly, he was leaning over her again. One arm suspended him above her, the other reached behind his head and tugged, removing the T-shirt in one smooth move.

Tina took a moment to observe and explore. Taut skin stretched over a toned, sculpted chest dusted with dark golden hair. She ran her fingers over his broad shoulders, along the ridges and dips, and then downward.

Doc sucked in a breath as she skimmed over his abs, reaching for the waistband of his jeans. He captured her hand before she could do anything more than unfasten them.

“Slow down.”

“Why?” The one-worded question sounded breathy and impatient.

When she’d imagined the evening, it had been with images of sensual touches and lots of exploring, pushing those self-control boundaries of his, and culminating in great sex. Suddenly, that didn’t seem nearly as much fun as taking the edge off quickly and leaving the leisurely exploration for later.

“Because I promised you a massage.”

“I don’t mind. I can wait.”

He chuckled softly, deftly stopped another attempt of hers to get into his pants, and straightened. His gaze dipped to her chest, where her nipples were pressing prominently against her shirt, bidding for attention. If the desire in his eyes was anything to go by, her impromptu decision to go braless had been a good one.

Dipping his head, he wrapped his mouth around one hardened peak through the material. He tongued and then bit lightly, eliciting a moan and a desperate need to tangle her hands in his hair.

He moved to the other and repeated the process. The warm, wet spots cooled quickly, making them even harder.

When he leaned back and admired his handiwork, his eyes were practically glowing.

“Beautiful. But this”—he fingered the collar of her top—“needs to go.”

She was totally on board with that plan and wasted no time in grabbing the bottom edge and lifting her shirt over her head. Once again, he chuckled at her enthusiasm and then sucked in a breath when her breasts were revealed.

In that moment, she learned another interesting fact about Doc—he was clearly a breast man.

He lavished the same attention on her without the cloth barrier between them. By the time he pulled away again, the area between her legs was as wet as her nipples.

“Too distracting,” he murmured more to himself than to her. Reaching behind her knees, he swung her legs onto the bed, then promptly rolled her onto her stomach and tugged at her leggings.

It all happened so quickly. One moment, she had been pulling his hair and arching her chest into his face. The next, she was facedown and naked. A delighted thrill ran through her.

Now, who was the impatient one?

“Fuck, Tina,” he said on an exhale, discovering that she’d gone commando down there, too.

He climbed up onto the bed and straddled the backs of her thighs, the denim of his jeans providing a soft friction against her freshly shaved skin. Then he leaned over and dipped two fingers into the jar.

The cocoa butter–based lotion melted against her skin with the heat of his hands, releasing the rich aromas of chocolate, coconut, and oranges as he applied just the perfect amount of pressure.

“My mouth is watering. This smells good enough to eat.”

“It is,” she said on a moan.

He started at her neck and worked his way slowly downward. By the time he got to her ass, she was limp, relaxed, and incredibly turned on.

He dipped his fingers in the jar again and slid them along her natural creases and crevices, and she was the one holding her breath. His finger glided down from her tailbone to the needy area at the juncture of her thighs and back up. It was hard to tell if the slick wetness was the melting body butter or her body’s natural lubricant.

He repeated the gliding strokes several more times, adding a finger dip and an artful swirl each time he reached her sex.

Then, it was two fingers.

Then three.

Tina moved her hips in a desperate bid for more, but instead of giving her what she wanted, he stopped entirely.

She was about to voice a complaint when the warm weight of his body pressed against her back—his warm, naked weight—and she felt something thicker and stiffer where his fingers had been.

“I wanted to make this last,” he grumbled against her ear in a low, sexy growl as his hips rolled, sliding his cock along the outside of her sex.

It felt wonderful, but it wasn’t enough.

She slid her hand beneath her body and touched her fingers to the sensitive bundle of nerves, desperate for some contact. When his cock touched her fingers, she included him in her self-stroking action, too.

In another smooth move, demonstrating his strength and mastery of basic leverage, she was on her back, staring up into his beautiful face and lust-filled eyes.

“Say yes or say no, but say something before I lose my fucking mind.”

“Yes. One hundred thousand times yes.”

His sheathed cock teased her entrance with agonizingly shallow strokes, each one going just a hairbreadth deeper than the last. Tina lifted her knees, opening herself to him, needing more.

But he was in no hurry, his

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