Shiver

then, could have opened her eyes and turned her head away, could have said let me go.
    She did none of those things. Instead she lifted her mouth toward his, blindly seeking his kiss. When his lips touched hers again, she responded instantly, tightening her arms around his neck, sliding her tongue into his mouth.
    He kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her mouth, and she kissed him back just as hungrily. Who would have thought the taste of mint could turn her on so? But coupled with the hot wet slide of his tongue against hers, it set her on fire. Pressing closer still, she rocked against him and felt the delicious thrill of desire shoot clear down to her toes. He was rigid with wanting her, hard and ready, radiating heat.
    The thought this feels so good revolved in her steam-fogged mind as her breasts tightened and her nipples contracted into greedy little nubs that pressed against his chest and her body moved sensuously against the hard bulge that was right there, right at the apex of her thighs, positioned in a way that was just too tempting, that was impossible to ignore. Moving against him like this was the sexiest thing she had done in forever. Forget sex, she had been telling herself for ages; who needs it? It just leads to trouble. But now she remembered vividly what sex was all about, and the real and very solid reminder made her breathless, made her tremble, made her go all liquid inside.
    “I want—” Oh, God, she was breathing the words into his mouth. At least she had the good sense to break off before she added you.
    But she did want him. So much she was dizzy with it.
    “Sam,” he murmured against her lips.
    It was hearing her name that did it, that almost broke through the blaze of passion, the wildfire of desire. For a moment her lids fluttered up, as one tiny, cold-eyed part of her brain tried to tell her that this— he —was not what she wanted at all.
    Too late. Lost cause.
    Her mind might know better, but her body did not. She was so turned on that she was stupid with it. She might even recognize that she was being stupid, but the kicker was that she just didn’t care.
    His mouth left hers to trail hot, wet kisses along her jaw and down the side of her neck.
    “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “So sexy. So sweet.”
    Take off my clothes. She retained just enough presence of mind not to say it out loud. But she rocked against him and kissed him back with abandon when his mouth returned to find hers, and didn’t do one thing to stop him when his hand slid inside her robe and cupped her breast through the thin T-shirt.
    What she did do was arch up into that hand. It was big and warm and knowing, and having it caressing her breast was just what she wanted, she discovered. When his thumb slid over her nipple, her bones liquefied.
    He was just repeating the exercise when she was jerked backto reality by a muffled cry. It shot straight to her heart, piercing the urgency that had her in its grip, causing her to pull her mouth free of that mind-blowing kiss and open her eyes and shove against his chest in a silent demand to be released. The sight of his big, tanned hand wrapped around her breast sent shockwaves through her system. It branded itself forever on her mind.
    The cry came again.
    “Tyler!” she said.
    Marco let her go, and, tightening her robe, she scrambled to her feet even as her son let loose with a full-blown scream.
    “Christ.” Marco’s reaction followed Sam down the dimly lit hall as she raced to Tyler’s side, along with a vivid mental image of him lying there looking after her as he sprawled on the carpet. His open robe revealed enough so that she knew exactly how wide and muscular his chest was, and how the wedge of black hair in the middle of it tapered down to a fine line as it disappeared into his boxers. She knew that his navel was an innie, and that it was positioned smack in the middle of a set of six-pack abs. She knew that he had the narrow hips of an athlete, and that he absolutely rocked the plain blue boxers that were all that kept him decent. She knew that the thigh that wasn’t bandaged was long and powerful, his knees were well shaped, his calves taut with muscle. She knew that his skin was tan everywhere that she could see, and that apart from his recent injuries he seemed healthy as a horse.
    Marco was balanced on one knee, grabbing for his crutches and doing his best to get to his feet as she reached the openbedroom doorway. Behind him,