Rescue Me

and tugged the end from the waistband of his pants. “I’ve had a rough couple of days.” She slid her hands beneath and touched the warm, damp skin of his hard belly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Vince.”
    “Do your worst,” he said against her lips, a whisper of breath, and she breathed him in. Breathed in his need as hot and fiery as her own. The kiss was surprisingly soft and almost sweet, while against the apex of her thighs, he pressed his ridged erection into her. Lust pooled and burned and she parted her lips beneath his. She kissed him, full-mouthed and hungry. Hungry for more of what he’d given her a few nights ago. Hungry for him to fill her body if not her heart.
    She wanted to touch him and for him to touch her. She wanted him to fill up the lonely places, but even as he touched her as she wanted, she knew not to want him too much. He’d made it clear that all he wanted was sex. No dinner. No movies. No conversation. And right now, that’s all she wanted, too.
    He stripped her to her panties and plopped her down on his desk. He stepped between her thighs, and his hands and mouth moved to her breasts. She arched her back and planted her hands on the desk behind her. His warm, slick tongue drove her insane, and when he finally sucked her nipple into his hot, wet mouth, she moaned and her head fell back.
    She didn’t love him, but she loved what he did to her. She loved the way he touched and kissed, and by the time he entered her, she loved that most. She planted her feet on the desk and he looked down at her, lust narrowing his green eyes and parting his lips. His hands grabbed her knees and his fingers dug into the tops of her skin. He moved inside her, thrusting deep and stroking all the good spots. His big chest expanded as he pulled air into his powerful lungs.
    A warm, tingly orgasm started at her toes and worked its way through her body. It worked her up and down and inside out, and when it finished working its magic, it left a smile on her face.
    “Hooyah.”
    T hrough the open windows, a cool evening breeze stirred the lace curtains in Sadie’s bedroom. A nightstand lamp cast a nice, warm glow across the bed and Sadie’s soft shoulder and the side of her smooth face. Vince slid his hand to Sadie’s bare belly and pulled her back against his chest.
    “Are you asleep?” he asked as his thumb fanned her stomach.
    “No.” She shook her head and yawned. “Tuckered out though. Geez, did I just say ‘tuckered’?”
    He smiled and kissed her neck. He wasn’t the least bit tired. After they’d left the Gas and Go, he’d grabbed a pizza from Lovett Pizza and Pasta and met her at the ranch. They’d eaten, then had sex in the bathtub, which hadn’t been easy, but they’d managed. Afterward, he’d watched as she’d dried her hair and put lotion on her elbows and feet. It smelled like lemons.
    “I worked the hell out of selling those dresses,” she’d told him as she sat on a white chair in the bathroom and put lotion on her heels. She’d worn a pair of pink panties and he’d sat on the edge of the tub wearing his cargos. He didn’t think he’d ever just sat and watched a woman rub lotion on herself before. He’d liked the view. “I don’t think I ever acted so ridiculous about a dress. I know prom is important, but sheesh.”
    He still wasn’t real clear on how she’d come to work for Deeann Gunderson in the first place. Maybe if she wasn’t talking while she was half naked, her little pink panties barely covering the pink beneath, he’d be able to focus on what she was saying.
    “Those girls acted like they were at Vera Wang.” She glanced up and squirted lotion into her palm. “I blame Rachel Zoe.”
    “Who?” He looked up and attempted to pay attention.
    “Celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe? She has her own show on Bravo? Gets fabulous designer gowns and shoes? Just had a baby boy with her husband, Rodge? Any of this sound familiar?”
    He shook his head and scratched his bare chest. That’s what he got for trying to pay attention.
    “She’s like the Martha Stewart of clothes and accessories. She has great style and taste and makes the rest of us feel like inadequate slobs.” She’d looked up at him and sighed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Martha Stewart.”
    “The lady who spent time in federal prison? I heard of her.”
    She stared across the bathroom at him. “She’s more famous for her stunning cakes.”
    His gaze slid to her stunning