All Together Dead

would have thrown myself from a window if we’d had to quit. “And you might take the pants off now.”
    I’d seen Quinn naked before but under decidedly stressful circumstances—in the middle of a swamp, in the rain, while we were being pursued by werewolves. Quinn stood by the bed and took off his shoes and socks and then his pants, moving slowly enough to let me watch. He stepped out of his pants, revealing boxer briefs that were suffering their own kind of stress. In one quick movement he eased them off, too. He had a tight, high butt, and the line from his hip to his thigh was just mouthwatering. He had fine, thin white scars striping him at random, but they seemed like such a natural part of him that they didn’t detract from his powerful body. I was kneeling on the bed while I admired him, and he said, “Now you.”
    I unhooked my bra and slid it off my arms, and he said, “Oh, God. I am the luckiest man alive.” After a pause, he said, “The rest.”
    I stood by the bed and eased the little white lacey things off.
    “This is like standing in front of a buffet,” he said. “I don’t know where to begin.”
    I touched my breasts. “First course,” I suggested.
    I discovered that Quinn’s tongue was just a bit raspier than a regular man’s. I was gasping and making incoherent noises when he moved from my right breast to my left as he tried to decide which one he liked best. He couldn’t make up his mind immediately, which was fine with me. By the time he settled on the right breast, I was pushing against him and making sounds that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but desperate.
    “I think I’ll skip the second course and go right to dessert,” he whispered, his voice dark and ragged. “Are you ready, babe? You sound ready. You feel ready.”
    “I am so ready,” I said, reaching down between us to wrap my hand around his length. He quivered all over when I touched him. He rolled on the condom.
    “Now,” he growled. “Now!” I guided him to my entrance, thrust my hips up to meet him. “I dreamed of this,” he said, and shoved inside me up to the hilt. That was the last thing either of us was able to say.
    Quinn’s appetite was as outstanding as his equipment.
    He enjoyed dessert so much, he came back for seconds.

Chapter 3
    We were in the kitchen when Amelia returned . I’d fed Bob, her cat, since she’d been so tactful earlier and deserved some reward. Tact does not come naturally to Amelia.
    Bob ignored his kibble in favor of watching Quinn fry bacon, and I was slicing tomatoes. I’d gotten out the cheese and the mayonnaise and the mustard and the pickles, anything I could imagine a man might want on a bacon sandwich. I’d pulled on some old shorts and a T-shirt, while Quinn had gotten his bag from his truck and put on his workout clothes—a tank top and worn shorts made from sweat material.
    Amelia gave Quinn a top-to-bottom scan when he turned back to the stove, and then she looked at me, grinning broadly. “You guys have a good reunion?” she said, tossing her shopping bags on the kitchen table.
    “Up to your room, please,” I said, because otherwise Amelia would want us to admire every single thing she’d bought. With a pout, Amelia snagged the bags and carried them upstairs, returning in a minute to ask Quinn if there was enough bacon for her.
    “Sure,” Quinn said obligingly, taking out some strips and putting a few more in the pan.
    I liked a man who could cook. While I set out plates and silverware, I was pleasantly aware of the tenderness I felt south of my belly button and of my overwhelmingly relaxed mood. I got three glasses out of the cabinet but kind of forgot what I was doing on my way to the refrigerator, since Quinn stepped away from the stove to give me a quick kiss. His lips were so warm and firm, they reminded me of something else that had been warm and firm. I flashed on my astonished moment of revelation when Quinn had slid into me for the first time. Considering that my only previous sexual encounters had been with vampires, who are definitely on the cool side, you can imagine what a startling experience a breathing lover with a heartbeat and a warm penis would be. In fact, shape-shifters tended to run a bit warmer than regular humans. Even through the condom, I’d been able to feel the heat.
    “What?” Quinn asked. “Why the look?” He was smiling quizzically.
    I smiled. “I was just thinking of your temperature,” I said.
    “Hey, you