Everything inside her clenched at the sight and she had to remind herself to breathe.

Licking suddenly dry lips, she scanned the rest of the monster bed. A dark brown utrasuede duvet covered it and there was a massive pile of pillows ranging in color from dark chocolate to a golden tan stacked against the mahogany headboard.

A single, very solid-looking nightstand stood to the left of the bed and a saddle hung on the wall above it along with a rope. Other than that, there was no additional furniture or decoration in the room.

“What’s the saddle for?” she asked.

“I rode it when I won the statewide teen bucking bronc competition.”

“The rope?” she practically squeaked.

The man rode wild horses? Of course he did.

“Bullriding.”

“You won?”

“Yep. I’m an expert rider.”

“How good are you at being ridden?”

“You know the saying, save a horse…ride a cowboy.”

“But you aren’t a cowboy.”

“Once a cowboy, always a cowboy.”

“So, why did they nickname you Stud instead of Cowboy?”

“Do you really need me to answer that?”

No, she sure didn’t. “So, extreme sports has been a way of life for you since you were a kid?”

“You could say that. My daddy considered bull-and bronc-riding part of my education.”

“My dad made me take tae kwon do until I went away to college.”

“That wasn’t in your file.”

“It was precollege, therefore pre-TGP.”

“Your dad didn’t mention it either.”

“Probably because he considered it a washout. It did not spark some deep-seated desire inside me to pursue law enforcement as a way of life.”

“What color was your belt when you stopped taking the classes?”

“Purple. It’s black now,” she admitted. That was probably a piece of information he should know going into a case together. “Please don’t mention that fact to my dad.”

“No problem, but why?”

“Why do I have a black belt, or why don’t I want you to tell my dad?”

“Both.”

“I started taking the classes again, for exercise, my sophomore year in college. I missed them, but not the pressure from Dad about what a natural I was and how I was wasting my life on finance. He was severely disappointed his only offspring wasn’t pursuing criminal justice, or something equally useful. Mom felt the same… she wanted me to get a degree in political science and follow it up with a law degree. I disappointed them both.”

She shrugged, as if that didn’t bother her. And for the most part, it didn’t. “I’ve kept up with the tae kwon do ever since though. I teach classes occasionally in my dojo, but I’ve only entered the competitions necessary to earn my next belt. Once I got the black, I stopped competing completely.”

She waited for him to make another comment about how she chose to observe rather than experience life, but none was forthcoming.

“I am a grand master in Kajukenbo.”

“I know. You can kill with your bare hands.”

“That’s part of agent training.”

“Not basic.”

“No, not basic.” He turned and indicated a door on the other side of his bed. “I keep my clothes in the closet, but there’s no sexy underwear for you to look through.”

“You were commando last night.”

“It’s my preference.”

“I find that very sexy, but then I’m sure a lot of women do.”

“I’m not interested in any other woman’s reaction right now. I’m glad it turns you on, though.”

Everything about him excited her. “You have a pair of handcuffs on the horns on your bed.”

His smile was gentle, but his eyes burned with desire. “I wondered if you were going to pretend you didn’t notice.”

“Are they always there?”

“No. I bought them and the blindfold on the way home from work tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I was hoping you’d want to use them.”

Chapter 10

Her knees almost buckled and she grabbed the door frame for balance. The time for teasing was over…at least about whether or not they were going to make love tonight. Her fears had not abated, but she was not letting them hold her back. Not tonight…hopefully, never again. “I want to.”

“I’m glad to hear that, baby, because my balls are turning blue from need.” He moved toward her, but she stepped away.

“The closet.”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Think of it as heightening your anticipation.”

“It can’t get much higher. I told you…my balls are about blue.”

“I thought that only happened when men got cold.”

“Or when all my blood is raging through my penis. Have pity, Beth.”

“In a minute.” She crossed the room with quick steps and opened the closet door.

It was a walk-in. Not a huge one. The building was too old for that kind of decadence. It didn’t take her long to mentally catalogue its contents, but she waited an extra minute before returning to the bedroom, just to tease him a little more. She planned on doing a lot of that tonight. She hoped his control was up to it.

Not really.

She wanted him to lose it, and she was going to try her darndest to make that happen.

She backed out of the closet and turned to the bed and stopped dead. The pillows were strewn all over the floor and Ethan was naked, lying on his side, facing her. He was everything she’d ever fantasized he would be and more. Her imagination could not have conjured such a look of hot desire in his eyes, particularly when directed at her.

She’d seen men who worked out, but she’d never seen a body as beautifully honed as Ethan’s. Golden skin covered perfectly sculpted muscles on a frame that dominated even that monster bed. At six-foot-three, he wasn’t the tallest agent at TGP. He wasn’t even the one with the most bulging muscles. Isaac held that distinction, but Ethan’s presence more than made up for it.

She could feel the tautness of his body from where she stood, not just see it. She could also feel the singeing temperature of his sexual need. She would have fanned herself, but she was frozen for that moment, her senses completely absorbed with the sight of his nakedness and the electricity crackling in the air between them.

He wanted her. He planned to have her. His green gaze and unself-conscious nudity exuded that certainty.

And she responded to it on a basic level that she had not even known existed inside of her. Her body called out to his in silent acknowledgment of his unspoken claim while something deep within her echoed the primal cry. Almost as if her soul recognized his and was reaching out to claim a connection.

Which was really silly because this was sex. Not love. Not even really lovemaking. Sex.

But the feelings were so intense, she could barely breathe. She could not move at all and her thoughts felt splintered like glass shards from a shattered mirror. She no longer looked inside herself and saw the old Beth Whitney, but broken reflections of a different woman emerging. A woman who was both sexual predator and supplicant. A woman who experienced life in the moment, not one who spent her time dreaming about the possible tomorrows to come.

A woman who could match the man lying on the bed with his big, hard penis jutting out from his body and no apology for it.

Pearly white moisture glistened on the mushroom-shaped head and she craved it. She wanted to taste that essence…to inhale his most private scent…to touch it and see if it was as silky as it looked.

“Like what you see, little Beth?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. But she wasn’t little Beth.

She started to undress. Slowly. Provocatively. As if stripping for a man was something she’d done many times before. When in fact she’d only done it once for Alan and had been so shy about it, he’d never asked her to do it again.

She didn’t feel shy now. Her body shimmered with wanton delight, responding to the hungry gleam in Ethan’s eyes in a way that was wholly new to her. She watched him watching her undress and reveled in the way his sculpted cheekbones turned dusky rose and his jawline hardened with desire.