Then she went on her toes, her eyelids drifting down, her mouth coming closer. He couldn’t stop his arms from circling her. Fuck, she felt fantastic, all soft curves, silky hair, and warm skin. A groan rumbled in his chest as her mouth touched his.

He lost his mind.

He wrapped her up and pulled her tighter to him, almost lifting her off her feet. He tilted his head and met her mouth, and Jesus, she was sweet and soft. She made a muffled little sound in her throat that was hot as hell, her arms winding around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling herself up against him so her soft breasts were crushed to his chest and, fuck, that felt good.

He opened his mouth on hers and she opened too, deepening the kiss. His mind fogged with lust, and flames burned beneath his skin. His dick was so hard now it hurt, throbbing with need, her softness pressing against it and making him crazy. Yeah. Oh yeah.

His hand slid up the center of her back, into her long hair, and he twisted his fingers in it. The silky strands wrapped around his hand and he gave a gentle tug, then gathered the hair all up in a fist at the back of her head. Her soft moan made his blood run even hotter.

His other hand slid lower, over the curve of her ass, pulling her tighter against him. Yeah. That ass. He’d watched her little butt cheeks twitch as she’d walked away that morning and he’d been dying to feel them, palm them, squeeze them. Now he had his hand on her ass, but it was over her jeans, and he wanted more, wanted skin. His hand delved up beneath the hem of the sweater, then pushed down inside her low-rise jeans. Really low-rise. It wasn’t far, but her jeans were tight and his hand was big. Still, he managed to fill his palm with smooth, warm flesh.

He slid his tongue inside her mouth, groaning again as he did so. He angled his head to kiss her deeply, desperate. What was it about her that made him this crazy? He was out of his fucking mind to be doing this. He was going to stop…

She whimpered so sweetly into his mouth, practically climbing his body.

“You are so not a lesbian,” he muttered, and her mouth curved against him and she shook a little with laughter.

“Captain Codger.” She brushed her lips over his cheek. “I do believe you just made a joke.”

He smiled too before he took her mouth with his again, a long, wet, hot kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her…her taste, her smell, the feel of her in his arms, his hands…

Oh right. He was going to stop. He had to stop.

His body was on fire, especially his dick. Excitement pounded through him. He’d never felt so reckless and out of control, willing to just throw good sense out the window, scoop up Lovey, and carry her to his bed.

The scratch of a key in the lock reached his ears. It took seconds to process the noise through the pounding of his blood in his ears, but when it finally sank in, adrenaline flashed through him and he shoved Lovey away from him. She stood there blinking, lips swollen and wet, eyes dazed, hair a tangled mess.

“Army,” he muttered as the door opened. He took several long strides across to the kitchen, yanked open the fridge door, and grabbed a bottle of water. He had the cap off and the bottle to his lips when Army walked in. Lovey, fortunately, had clued in and ran her hands through her hair, moving to the couch.

“Hey, you’re still up.” Army dropped his keys on the small console table inside the door.

“You didn’t stay long after us,” Lovey commented, her voice a little huskier than usual.

“Nah. I was done. Gonna hit the sack.” He paused and gave Lovey a look. “Did you get some flannel pajamas?”

She blinked. “No.”

“Then you sleep in my room.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll sleep in my leggings or something. You don’t need to sleep on the couch.” She cast a glance Marc’s way. “Unless you guys are staying up late. Because I’m ready to go to bed now.” Another quick look at him from beneath her lashes.

Fuck.

“Nah, I’m going to bed right away. Just need one of those.” He nodded at Marc’s water bottle.

“I was going to turn in too,” Marc said, making his escape. “Night.”

He hoofed it down the hall, into his room, and closed the door.

Sacre bleu de Tabarnak!

That had been close. Too fucking close. That could not happen again.

Briefly he contemplated moving out. He was planning to get a place of his own eventually, but after Marissa had dumped him and he’d moved in with Army, he’d been procrastinating. He was comfortable there. Until now. This could be the time. But damn, he and Army got each other and got along great, and the other guys liked hanging out there too. Living on his own would likely mean he’d have no social life.

Nah. That was stupid. He’d still hang out with Army and the boys. He really needed to get his own place.

He also needed to use the bathroom. He cracked the door open. He could hear Lovey and Army talking in low voices—no doubt arguing over who was going to sleep on the couch. He zoomed into the bathroom, did what he needed to do, and then trucked back into his room.

He let out a long breath. He set his hands on the back of his neck and stretched his spine. Some bruises and sore muscles twinged and reminded him of a few hard hits into the boards earlier, but mostly his body still pulsed from kissing Lovey. Holding her. Fuck.

He pulled off his suit jacket and tossed it over the arm of the chair. It wasn’t like him to leave his clothes lying around. He normally hung everything up or put it in the laundry hamper as soon as he took it off. Tonight, he couldn’t wait to get into bed and jerk off.

Naked, he climbed into bed. With a long exhalation he slid his hand down to his aching cock. He closed his eyes in the dark room and stroked himself. Lovey’s face appeared. He imagined her scent, remembered the feel of her tits against him and the taste of her tongue in his mouth. The warm glow that seemed to transfer from her to him, making him feel like anything was possible.

A soft click reached his ears but it took him a couple of seconds to react. His hand jerked away from his dick, his head snapped up, and his eyes opened. What the fuck?

A faint light flashed as the door opened and closed. He sat up, covers falling to his waist, peering into the darkness. A faint rustle sounded. Someone was walking across the carpet.

He recognized that shape and the way she moved. Lovey approached his bed, silhouetted in dark and shadow. He gripped the covers.

“Lovey,” he whispered roughly. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Chapter 8

“Shhh.” Lovey crossed the dark room toward the shadowy shape of Marc’s bed. “Duncan’ll hear you.”

“Fuck!”

She sat on the side of the bed, but before she could even settle, he’d rolled and leaped out on the other side of the big king-size bed. She stared at him.

His body was cloaked in shadow but she could still see how freakin’ ripped he was. And big. Heavily muscled shoulders, lean waist and hips, thick thighs. His ass made her eyes go wide, it was so firm and round. Sadly, he grabbed a pair of boxers and jumped into them. Then he rounded the bed and closed his big hand around her upper arm, pulling her to her feet none too gently.

“Hey,” she whispered. “What?”

“Get the hell out of here, Lovey.” He dragged her toward the door. Her feet tripped along.

“Wait! Marc!” She tried to dig her heels into the carpet, but he was way bigger and stronger than her. He whipped his door open, stuck his head out, and looked one way, then the other.

“You sleeping on the couch?” he whispered. “Or is Duncan?”

“I am, but—”