He looked at me with watery, miserable eyes and nodded. “He didn’t do anything wrong. All he wanted was to defend himself, and you killed him for it.”

Oh yeah, he knew what was going on all right. And I had never felt so guilty for exorcizing a demon before.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my throat tight and achy.

Dominic seemed about to say something else as he sat up, his upper body now free from the restraints. But Adam rose from his chair and sat on the edge of the table beside his friend. Or was Dominic just Adam’s host’s friend now? Too confusing. I decided not to think about it.

“She did what she had to do,” Adam said. He did soft and gentle a lot better than me, which was kind of surprising considering he usually had a pretty hard edge to him. “We have to operate within the bounds of the law. Even when the law is wrong.”

That last was directed at me, but I managed to swallow my natural retort. This wasn’t the time or place to discuss the role of demons in American society.

Dominic gave a moaning sob. Adam wrapped his arms around him and rocked him like he might a heartbroken child.

I got the hell out of there and wished Adam had found someone else to do the exorcism.

My mood lifted when I met Brian for dinner. Of course, it’s hard for your spirits not to rise when your boyfriend answers his door wearing nothing but a cute little bow tie and holding a long-stemmed white rose between his teeth.

I grinned at him as I slipped into his condo, closing the door behind me. “I see you got the flowers.”

“Yes,” he said around the stem in his mouth. “They’re lovely.”

I laughed and plucked the rose from between his lips. I held the bud to my nose and inhaled deeply. The scent was disappointingly faint, but sweet nonetheless. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Brian was happy to see me and getting happier by the moment. I tossed the rose aside and gave him a visual once-over, finding that I was rather happy to see him myself.

He stood up straight, thrusting his shoulders back like a soldier at inspection. Once again I laughed, but even I could hear the lust in that sound. Moments before, I’d been standing outside his door wondering if I should try to beg off tonight. Now I could barely remember why.

I began to circle him, and he turned his head to follow my movement.

“Face front, soldier!” I barked. Well, I tried to bark, but my voice came out husky.

“Yes, ma’am!” He did better at the bark than I did, his head snapping back around to face front so fast it made me wince. With my luck these days, he’d get whiplash during some harmless sex play.

The rear view was spectacular. Brian has the tightest little buns I’ve ever seen. Made me want to get down on my knees and take a bite. I settled for smoothing my hands over his cheeks, feeling the quiver of his muscles as he struggled to stand at attention. My pulse drummed between my legs, and I caught myself thinking how lovely it would be to have Brian to come home to after all of my tough days.

I shoved the thought aside, not wanting to ruin the mood with thoughts of the future. There was no better way to get my mind off the distasteful exorcism than to drown my body in physical sensation, and, damn it, that was exactly what I was going to do. Absolutely no thinking allowed.

I pressed myself close against Brian’s back, hands still cupping his butt, then trailed my tongue over his shoulder blade. He managed to hold still, but his breath hissed in and out of his lungs, and his skin tasted faintly of salt. Man, I loved making him sweat!

I took a long and leisurely tour of his back, pretending not to notice when he squirmed at my ministrations. His hands were fisted at his sides, and I could feel the excited thump of his heart under my lips.

“Morgan, please.”

I smiled as my hand dipped between his legs from behind, my fingers just barely brushing his drawn-up balls. The only thing I loved more than making him sweat was making him beg.

“Please what?” I asked, then stood on tiptoe and lightly nipped his earlobe.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “It’s been almost a week. My self-control has its limits.”

Not that I’d been able to tell. My will always broke before his, but I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like it that way. My whole body felt warm, my senses hyper-acute. My nostrils flared as I picked up the mingled scents of sweating male, Old Spice deodorant, and arousal. The longer I made this last, the longer I could escape my less-than-enjoyable thoughts.

I slid around to the front. Brian was most definitely at full mast, the head of his erection shiny with pre-cum. I licked my lips, and he groaned. There was no missing how desperately he wanted me, and yet still he managed to keep the reins on his lust. Someday I was going to find a way to shatter that almost legendary self-control of his. Unfortunately, until I mastered the art of self-control, he was destined to win.

My limited patience at its end, I dropped to my knees, steadying my victim with a hand on each of his hips. I could feel the intensity of his eyes on me. I loved knowing that he was watching. When my tongue flicked out for a quick taste, we both gasped. There was something so primally satisfying about taking him into my mouth. My every sense was alive and involved-tasting him, smelling his arousal, hearing the harshness of his gasps for breath. His hips rolled against my mouth, and I knew he wouldn’t last very long if I kept this up. I also knew that if I let him come in my mouth, I’d have to give him some recovery time before I could have him inside me. If I gave him time to recover, my treacherous mind might click into gear and spoil things.

Reluctantly, I released him despite his groan of protest.

“Even you aren’t that cruel,” he complained, looking at me with lust-darkened eyes.

I climbed to my feet, my knees embarrassingly shaky. He opened his mouth for another protest, but then I started unbuttoning my blouse, and his protest died.

With a wicked grin and a crook of my finger, I began backing toward his bedroom. He followed like a stalking panther as I shrugged out of my blouse. I was nowhere near coordinated enough to take off my pants while I walked backward, so I settled for opening the snap and pulling down the zipper. By then I had crossed the threshold into the bedroom.

My timing was spot-on, my bra hitting the floor just as the back of my knees hit the bed. Brian flashed me a predator’s smile, then bent to help me out of the rest of my clothes. He had to interrupt the flow a bit to grab a condom from the bedside table, but we were both way too far gone for that to spoil the mood.

When he slipped into me, it was pure heaven. I was wet enough to let him bury himself in one thrust, and the feeling was like coming home. I pulled his head down to mine, and he kissed me with all the pent-up passion of a man who’s been separated from his true love for months.

I drowned in the reality of him, in the natural fit of our bodies, in the dizzying rush of his desire, in the terrifying intensity of his love. I lost all power of higher thought, my body one big nerve ending, my heart near to bursting with more emotions than I could name.

We came at almost the exact same moment, both of us loud enough to no doubt embarrass the neighbors. Like we cared.

Brian cuddled me in the aftermath, my head cradled against his chest, our legs intertwined, both of us panting desperately for air. When the first rush of afterglow started to fade, I felt a flutter of panic in my chest. I loved Brian too damn much for my own good, especially when practicality told me it would never last. Yes, I knew he loved me, too. But I’ve never been a believer in the myth that love conquers all. Someday, he would run out of patience with me, and my heart would shatter into tiny, sharp pieces.