This was what she needed. Maybe not for the long term, maybe not even for tomorrow, but for right now, she needed physical connection. With him.

Entirely sure of what she was doing for the first time in forever, she returned her attention to his face. That handsome, concerned expression said he was ready to stop, to leave if she so much as quirked a finger toward the door.

Instead, she drew back the shower curtain.

Dean swallowed visibly, his neck and throat flexing as he studied her. Desire tightened the muscles in his jaw, and his eyes narrowed. He hadn’t touched her with more than a heated stare, yet as he unfastened his jeans and let them fall off his lean hips, she could see the way he swelled in reaction to her nudity.

“You’re sure?” he murmured, the words sounding drawn from the very last wellspring of resistance he owned.

“I need to be with you.”

He didn’t question it. Didn’t focus on the way she’d worded her desire for him. Maybe she was being selfish, but he didn’t call her on it. Instead, he removed the rest of his clothes and stepped to the tub.

“So be with me,” he said as he joined her.

The water had cooled a bit, but she suddenly felt hot again. In silence, he took the soap and washed his hands and arms. When they were scrubbed clean he reached out to touch her. It was the simplest, most tender scrape of his index finger against her jawline.

She felt the connection down to the soles of her feet.

Without a word, she slid her wet hands onto his shoulders and moved closer, until their bodies brushed ever so lightly, hers wet and pliant, his hard and slick. Her pebbled nipples scraped against the dark hair of his chest, sending delicious sensations racing through her.

Dean groaned low in his throat, as if he hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect. Had he thought she merely wanted comforting? A pair of strong shoulders to cry on and a hard body to lean against?

He’d soon know better.

She wanted to grab hold of those strong shoulders, to touch every inch of his hard body. To lightly bite him, and to scratch his powerful back. She wanted her thighs wrapped around his hips, wanted him driving into her with heat and lust until there was no room for thought.

And as she felt him swell and harden to a dizzying size against her hip, she knew she wanted it all twice.

“I want you so much,” she whispered, eliminating all subtlety. “Please don’t make me wait any more.”

Twining her hands behind his neck, she ran the tip of her tongue along his collarbone, needing to taste him. He was salty and warm and masculine; she breathed in his scent and sucked up the delicious heat his body provided.

“Looking at you pulls the breath right out of my lungs,” he admitted, his tone thick and husky with need.

With patience she didn’t know the man could possess, he skimmed his palms over her shoulders, brushing the long, wet strands of hair behind them. It seemed to take forever for his mouth to move toward her temple, then, still with that maddening slowness, down her cheekbone toward her lips.

“Kiss me, Dean.”

He did, giving her not the deep, hungry kiss she’d taken from him in her office, but a lovely, tender one. Softly, gently, he touched his mouth to hers. The water from the shower streamed down their faces, blending on their joined lips and sliding between.

Focused solely on the delicious taste of him, Stacey didn’t have time to prepare herself for the deliberate, steady assault on all the rest of her senses. The pulsing jets of water were not loud enough to drown out the thudding of her heart. The intoxicating scents of warm man and soap and sweat and sex filled the steamy air, drugging her with each inhalation. His hands moved down her sides, tender and deliberate, each stroke both inciting desire and offering incredible pleasure. And when she looked down at him, saw the glory of that masculine body and the powerful erection she would soon take into herself, she quivered with hunger.

“I’ve wanted this since the minute you walked into my office,” she admitted.

“I’ve wanted it since you told your brother to get the hell out of your office.”

Unbelievably, she found a laugh deep inside herself and let it spill softly from her lips.

He cupped her breasts in his hands, gently toying with her sensitive nipples. Gasping, she sagged against him, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. One strong hand slid down her side to her hip, where he grasped her possessively; then he pushed her back to lean against the wall. Kissing his way down her neck and nuzzling into the hollow of her throat, he murmured tender, sexy promises, the hunger in his voice making her throb with the need for him to follow through on them.

When he covered her nipple with his mouth and sucked deeply, she cried out, tangling her fingers in his thick, wet hair. The water grew cooler, now just tepid against their hot skin, but neither of them suggested getting out.

“Mmm, yes,” she groaned as he moved his other hand down, stroking her belly before tangling his fingers in the curls between her thighs.

Her groan was echoed when he slid his fingers lower and stroked her to insanity. She shook and quaked with the intensity of it as he brought her higher and higher, kissing her again when she cried out her climax.

She hadn’t even had time to come down from it when he deepened his caresses, toying with her and testing her wetness. She was drenched and ready, and while there were a million things she wanted to do with this man, the most important one, right now, was to connect with him completely.

She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his, tilting herself up in both invitation and demand. Dean cupped her face in his hand, staring at her with one final question.

“I’m on the pill,” she told him. “And I want this more than I’ve wanted anything.”

A slow, sexy smile preceded his response. “You won’t regret it.”

Hell, no, she wouldn’t regret it. She already didn’t regret it. She especially didn’t regret it when he lifted her leg higher, making room for himself and moving between her thighs. When that thick, hot shaft began to ease into her, she almost cried out her not-regret.

He went slowly-so slowly-gliding into her an inch at a time, kissing her face, her neck, her mouth. Stacey wanted more. She thrust greedily, demanding more. Until, with a helpless groan, he gave it to her and plunged deep.

Yes.

They didn’t move for a second, just gasping as sensation exploded and pleasure erupted. Helpless to the demands of both their bodies, they began a slow, sultry tango. He filled her; he pleasured her; he offered her tenderness and delight and strength. Dean made her feel, for the first time in ages, that she wasn’t alone, and that there was still goodness and light and beauty to be found if she just opened herself to them.

They loved until the water grew completely cold and they both cried out their ultimate release. But it was only afterward, when he gently lifted her from the shower and carried her to her bed, that she realized the dam had burst. The tears had been released.

And she sobbed quietly in his arms until she fell asleep.