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What? My heart is going crazy in my chest.

  “I just need this,” he says.

  I’m not sure whether he pulls me into his arms or I just fall into them, but he’s holding me in my kitchen. His mouth meets mine and we’re kissing like it’s just been invented and no one knew how good it could be.

  Even in my dreams it wasn’t like this, the rasp of his skin against mine, the pressure from his lips, the subtle scent of cologne and him, his body hard against me, my back against the kitchen counter. I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to.

  I definitely don’t want to.

  Eventually, we break apart and somehow, everything has changed. There’s a huge charge in the air that I realize has been building up since I saw him in the bathroom at the Italian restaurant, but now it’s exploded into something huge and unspoken.

  He traces my cheek with his finger, like he doesn’t believe I’m real, even though his eyes have never left mine.

  “Lucky I ran into you tonight,” he says.

  “Yes. But luckier for me. If you hadn’t been there, I might still have been stuck in the bathroom.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” When he smiles at me, it reaches his eyes.

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to stay?” he asks, and I nod. I can’t even think about letting him walk out of the door in case I never see him again. But then my heart runs cold. I have no clue what’s going on in his life. Maybe he has a girl. He could even be married, and I wouldn’t know. He might be as bad as Kevin, and my judgement is just off because of the crush I had seven long years ago.

  “Tell me about your life,” I say, because it’s hard to ask about girlfriends and wives. “Where are you living now?”

  “You want us to talk now?” He smiles. “That whole life story thing might take a while, and I didn’t have talking in mind.”

  He tries to kiss me again, but I pull away. Does he have something to hide?

  “What’s the matter?” he asks.

  “You’re married.” I know it. He must be. Stupid me. A guy like him is bound to have a perfect wife at home and a brood of kids.

  He laughs. “Not unless my bride drugged me and got me to the church and I didn’t know it. What brought that on?”

  I seem to lurch from one embarrassing moment to the next with him, but I had to ask. And I’m glad I did.

  I shrug. “I know nothing about you these days. I didn’t even know you were a firefighter.”

  “I know nothing about you, either. And I want to find out all about you. But right now, all I want is you. We’ve got all the time in the world to catch up later. Unless you really are keen to talk now, and then we can talk.”

  He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his eyes on mine, steady and reassuring. “Do you want to talk? We can talk and eat pizza, and then I’ll go home. No pressure—we only just met up again. I’m not going to rush you.”

  “No, don’t go.” I can’t bear it if he goes now.

  “Come here,” he says, taking me in his arms again, and holding me so close I feel sure he’ll be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. He nuzzles into my hair and murmurs, “I’m so happy it was you in the bathroom and not some other Alyssa.”

  He kisses me deeply then. And I can’t help but lose myself in him again.

  As I catch the subtle scent of him, a memory comes flooding back from years ago when he left a sweater at our house. When no one was looking, I couldn’t resist grabbing it and burying my face in the soft wool. I’d have liked to keep it, and hide it away, but I didn’t dare.

  The kiss goes on and on like it will never stop, and I don’t want to it to. We’re panting when we break apart, and he holds me and kisses my hair. I feel safe with his arms around me.

  He picks me up like I weighed nothing at all and sets me on the countertop. “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you?”

  “Pizza?” I tease.

  “No, not pizza. At least, I haven’t heard it called that. Something else.”

  I’m not sure exactly what’s going to happen, but I have a good idea. I nod anyway. I don’t want him to know how inexperienced I am, that I’ve never had a man like him, or any guy for that matter.

  Somehow, he’s between my thighs, though I don’t remember him pushing his way there; I just let him in. His hands are at the buttons of my blouse and I suck in a breath. He slowly undoes the first button, planting a kiss on the skin he reveals.

  I grab onto the countertop behind me to steady myself while he repeats with each button, undoing it and kissing the bare skin he uncovers until my blouse is open, and then his lips brush each mound of my breasts at the edge of my pink satin bra. My nipples feel like they are trying to burst through the thin fabric, demanding his attention.

  It’s not lost on him. He pulls back the edge of my bra and his hot mouth is on me, sucking at my nipple, teasing with his tongue.

  A sound, the kind I never heard myself making, comes from deep in my throat.

  “So beautiful,” he says, and I want to deny the compliment as I usually would, but then I don’t, because right at this moment he makes me feel like I deserve the word.

  At the same time, I need and want him so much I’m scared what he will think if this goes further, worried about disappointing him, being rejected.

  But need wins and squashes every fearful thought as he moves from one nipple to the other, sucking at it through the satin of my bra, grazing me with his teeth, and I feel my thighs opening wider of their own accord, gripping him, pushing against him, wanting more.

  My swollen nipple pops from his mouth and he kisses me again on my mouth, a kiss where I forget where he ends and I begin, my bared breast and damp bra cup pressing against his shirt.

  “I want to fuck you,” he growls. “Hard. Until neither of us can stand.”

  I gasp, but I want that too. I want to experience everything with him for the first time, so I say, “Yes,” in case that wasn’t clear from the way I’m pulling at his shirt, my hands roaming over his hard abs and down to—oh—my eyes widen.

  The evidence of how much he wants me is trying to burst out of there. So hard, so big. Can I take that? He groans and picks me up. I wrap myself around him, trying not to let my nerves show.

  “Bedroom?” he asks as we go into the hall.

  “There.” I nod towards the door. I’m doing this, no matter what. I nuzzle into his shoulder, taking in the scent of his shirt, faintly smelling of the laundry detergent he uses, the clean, male scent of him—not exactly the same as his sweater from way back, but unmistakably him.

  And then we’re on the bed, all kisses and hands like teenagers with raging hormones, clothes flying everywhere. Pausing a moment, suddenly I realize with horror he’s gazing down at me and I’m naked, but when I look shamefully away, he says, “Don’t look like that, you’re beautiful, you know. Just perfect. I want to eat you up.”

  I giggle as he makes the sound of a hungry animal and his mouth lands on me, making crazy gnawing sounds as he kisses my stomach and down further, without the sound effects, his fingers holding me wide open so his tongue can probe my wet folds.

  As he licks and sucks and teases, mewling sounds come from my mouth. It’s so good, I can hardly stand it. But he doesn’t stop swirling his tongue around until I’m desperate for release and begging, “Please.”

  Then, his hot breath on me, he takes my engorged clit softly between his teeth and sucks, and I come completely undone, calling out I don’t know what. If this is sex, I love it. Why did I wait so long? But I know why. There’s been no one like Ward in my life. No one even close to matching him.

  He holds me while I recover. “I could watch you do that all night,” he murmurs, kissing my hair, my ear, my nose and then my mouth, and I taste myself on him.

  In one way, I feel languid and replete in his arms, but I want more. There’s some kind of primal desire for him that means we can’t stop there. I have to feel him inside me, deep inside. I reach down for hi
m. I’m doing this.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ward

  I have the perfect woman in my arms, all soft and beautiful, curves in all the right places. Responsive, too. The noises from her throat could drive a monk to leave a monastery. And she wants me. One thing is certain—I’ve got to have her right now. I hope she’s ready for how much.

  I nuzzle my face between her soft breasts, drinking in the delicate feminine scent of her skin.

  But I should have known Murphy would be out in force tonight. The fucking doorbell sounds.

  She jumps.

  “You expecting anyone?” I ask.

  “No. Just ignore it. It’s probably someone who wants to get in. They will be trying all the bells on the intercom.”

  But it sounds again, and then the phone in her pocket goes off, and she grabs it from her clothes on the floor. I hear some guy say, “You’re not at home? Where are you?”

  Another boyfriend? Hell, the woman is enough to attract any man, but they’re out in force pissing me off tonight. First the guy in the restaurant treating her like shit, and now this, an interruption I could do without, some creepy stalker-type guy wanting to know what she’s doing.

  “I was just taking a shower,” she says.

  Wait? What? She’s not meeting my eyes. Fuck this. I want to know what’s going on.

  “Great that you’re back. Buzz and I’ll let you in,” she says, shutting off the call.

  “It’s Martin,” she says, a panicked look on her face. “Home early and his key’s buried in his bag somewhere. You’d better get dressed and go.” She grabs her robe from the hook on the back of the bedroom door and starts gathering up her clothes and giving me mine.

  I can see this turning into a sitcom-style farce with me hiding in the bathroom behind the shower curtain or something. The situation is awkward, but Alyssa is all grown up now. It’s not as if we’re doing anything wrong.

  “I’ll just say hello, and let you two catch up,” I say. “We can get together again soon, and I’ll give Martin a call and meet up with him properly another time.”

  “Please, Ward. I haven’t seen him for nine months. He still thinks of me as his little sister, and I don’t want to spoil his homecoming by rubbing this in his face.”

  I can see her point, but I don’t know how she expects me to leave without bumping right into Martin outside her door or in the elevator. He’s never going to believe it’s a coincidence. “He’ll be here any second now, anyway.”

  She looks even more panicked.

  “Look, if you want I’ll just stay here in your room.” I must be crazy suggesting this. “Why not say you want to take him out for a drink to celebrate him getting home safely. And I’ll slip out once you’ve left.”

  She looks more relieved than I feel. I just hope she manages to persuade him to go for a drink. Knowing Martin, if he hasn’t changed, she shouldn’t have any problem with that.

  CHAPTER 7

  Alyssa

  It’s so good to see Martin again, I almost forget I’ve got Ward hiding out in my bedroom. Almost, but not quite. How could I forget? Every time I think of him, I want to go back into my room and touch him all over again.

  But Martin is shattered, so tired he says he just wants to lay his head down and he might sleep for a week. There’s no way he wants to go out for a drink.

  It usually suits us both to share the apartment. I like having the place to myself when he’s away. No noisy or annoying roommates. And I like having him around when he’s on leave.

  But now I’ve got a problem—a six feet three size problem—in my room. If I come clean to Martin now, I’ll not only have to explain Ward’s presence but the fact I hid him away.

  Maybe once Martin goes to sleep, Ward can leave. Have I messed everything up with him by acting like a little girl scared what her big brother thinks? I hope Ward will overlook it, but I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t.

  “I could murder a sandwich before I turn in, sis,” Martin says, and I agree to fix him one. He follows me into the kitchen, then he spots the pizza on the counter. Poor Ward never did get his pizza—maybe I could sneak him a slice.

  “You bought a pizza and didn’t eat it,” Martin says. “Unlike you. You must have known I was going to get here today.”

  I smile, but I wish that were true. “How come you’re early anyway, and why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you making a fuss.”

  I shoot him a look. “As if I would…” and we laugh because we both know how I like to pull out all the stops for him coming home and how much I made of his homecoming last time. We only have each other now. I would have been putting out banners and balloons and cooking up a storm in the kitchen, even though Martin is a low-key kind of guy. It would be for my benefit more than his.

  “Just give me a couple of slices of your pizza, and then I’ll turn in,” Martin says.

  “You don’t want it heated up?”

  “No. I’ll be asleep before it’s hot.”

  So I give him the pizza and then put the oven on, pretending it’s for me.

  Martin eats two slices, and almost dead on his feet, goes off to bed. I don’t think I’ll get a peep out of him until morning, so once all is quiet, I venture into my room.

  Ward is dressed, but lying on my bed, propped up on one elbow. He’s looking at me, and my heart does another flip seeing him. He doesn’t look mad; he looks hungry—and not for pizza. With no more than that, I melt inside.

  CHAPTER 8

  Ward

  “What’s happening?” I ask quietly once Alyssa comes into her bedroom and closes the door.

  “Martin came home early. Apparently he didn’t want me to make any fuss.” She rolls her eyes. “But he’s gone to bed now. I’m sorry he ate some of your pizza, but I’m heating the rest of it up for you.”

  “Do you want me to take it and go?”

  I expect her to say yes, but she shakes her head. And then she looks bemused. I think she meant to say yes, too, but she really doesn’t want me to leave. That makes two of us.

  “What about work?” she asks.

  “Yours or mine? I have the day off. You? What do you do these days, anyway?” I can’t remember her talking about a future career when she was younger, not that we had that kind of chat in those days.

  I look at her, and she blushes for some reason. It’s cute the way she’s shy with me. Maybe she’s remembering what we did earlier. “You could be anything. Let me guess, a trapeze artist?”

  “Nope.”

  “A horse whisperer.”

  She laughs. “No.”

  “I know then, you must be a weather girl on TV, so sexy no one would care about the rain. There, I nailed it. The perfect role for you.”

  I think she likes I said that. “I work in a bank. Not sexy at all.”

  “Oh, you’re very sexy, believe me, whatever you do. It’s a wonder the customers don’t combust.”

  She bites her lip. She really doesn’t know how stunning she is. That’s refreshing. “I’ll just get that pizza,” she says and scurries from the room.

  We share our impromptu meal sitting on her bed, though I eat most of it, and I ask her about her life these days, about Martin, and then just as I polish off the last part of the crust, and put the plate on the nightstand, I ask about her parents.

  “You don’t know about them?” she says, her face crumpling a little.

  “What’s the matter? They’re okay, right?”

  “No, they were in a crash, six years ago. A year or so after you moved away.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Her voice catches. “So there’s just me and Martin now. He looked after me. We got this apartment with the insurance money. But once I was old enough to live on my own, and he knew I’d be okay, he enlisted. I pretended I was okay with it. I didn’t want to be the one stopping him doing what he really wanted to do.”

  I open my arms, and she falls into them. I wish I cou
ld protect her from all the hurt she must feel. She probably doesn’t remember this, but when she was eight or nine and Martin used to tell her to go away and not hang around us all the time, I used to stick up for her. I hated to see the hurt look on her face even then.

  “I was looking forward to seeing your parents, too, now I’ve met you again.” I say. “They were always good to me, and I loved being at your house, much more than going home.”

  “I loved you being at my house. I had a teenage crush on you.”

  “You did?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “I was oblivious.”

  “I know. Just as well. You’d have run a mile.”

  “Yes, given your age and all. And now I’m glad you’re not fourteen anymore.”

  “Me, too.” She grins up at me, but then her face clouds over. “Martin is still going to be mad when he finds out you’re here. He’s very protective these days. I think he thinks he’s my dad. We’ll have to be quiet.”

  “In that case, I need to go home.”

  She looks puzzled.

  “I can guarantee if I stay here, quiet is the last thing we’ll be. And the noise will not be the kind you can mistake for anything else.”

  She sucks in a breath, and I kiss her, which results in all kinds of needy sounds from her throat, making me hard all over again, yet proving my point. “Rain check?”

  “Yes.” She smiles back at me and I run my finger down her cheek and down the side of her neck, and then tilt up her chin to kiss her again before sneaking out like a thief in the night. I’m sure we can square things with Martin before he goes back to his unit in a few weeks.

  But it turns out I know nothing.

  CHAPTER 9

  Alyssa

  As soon as Ward leaves, I wish I hadn’t let him go. The room feels empty, and the only evidence of him ever having been there is the rumpled bed and all the warm feelings I have inside at the thought of him. Even here on my own, I blush at the things he did to me, that I let him do.