He slipped his hand under her Bears jersey and traced his thumb up the bumps of her spine. He stalled at her bra. “You have too many clothes on . . .”

She didn’t know whether he helped her or she levered herself up, but within seconds, she was on his lap, straddling him, her knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs.

He clasped her waist. She slipped her hands around the back of his neck and gazed into that granite-carved face. “Are we really going to do this?”

His forehead creased. “It seems like it.”

It seemed that way to her, too. “What about your scruples? I’m still the hired help.”

He leaned forward and nibbled on her bottom lip. “You’re not the help. You’re the obstacle.”

She nuzzled the cleft in his chin. “To what?”

“My peace of mind.”

That was something she definitely understood.

He brushed his lips across hers. “What about your scruples?”

“Temporary leave of absence,” she murmured.

He found the corner of her mouth. “I never spanked a woman in my life. Never even thought about it. Damn, it felt good.”

She resisted the urge to rub her tingling bottom. “It didn’t hurt one bit.”

He drew back so that she was looking straight into those tarnished golden-brown eyes. “I’m still furious with you,” he said.

“Understood.” She met his gaze straight on. “If it’s any consolation, I’m even more furious with me.”

Maybe that satisfied him because he brought his lips to her neck. “Promise you won’t fight any more of my men?”

She tilted her head to give him more room. “I promise.” Unless they’re not watching out for you.

He dumped her off his lap. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

She was done for. Hopeless and reckless. She reached for the bottom of his sweater and pulled it over his head.

It didn’t take long before they were both naked and back on the couch. Even a short interruption while he protected them didn’t dampen her desire. She wanted this—wanted dirty, no-holds-barred sex with this man. And maybe, maybe, she wanted to make him lose control the same way he’d done last time.

But he wasn’t playing her game. “Keep your hands to yourself, lady,” he said as she reached for him.

“You, too,” she replied. “No. Wait. You can put your hands anywhere you like.”

And he did.

She straddled him, the position opening her to the intimate abrasion of his fingers. His eyes were darker now, burnished with desire, but their gazes were no longer locked. That was an intimacy neither of them wanted.

She lowered her mouth to his, delivering a deep kiss, a kiss that began to feel as if it held too much of her. A hand tunneled into her hair, keeping her there. Mouths, teeth, tongues merged and battled. She lowered her hand to clasp him, but he was having none of it. He pushed her back into the cushions and pressed open her thighs. He gazed at all he’d exposed, and then claimed what she so willingly offered.

The press of his thumbs into her thighs, the sweet laceration of his mouth, the teasing, the torment . . . And then the abandonment. The cruel, callous, abandonment . . . until he shifted his weight.

This time there was no mistaking that hard thrust—sweetly painful. Her fingers dug into his back, slick now with sweat. The delicious burden of his body pressed down on her. Into her. Deep and deeper still, this tight, powerful breaching.

A crazy fracas broke out behind her eyelids. Inky swirls orbiting into a whirling vortex that spun faster and faster until it erupted into a perfect supernova.

He thrust on, full press. Her head thrashed. She cried out. His hips drove deeper. Stilled.

Finally . . . The silent howl of his arched neck. Muscles convulsing. The long shudder of his body.

And then the quiet.

They calmed. When she could breathe, she maneuvered for a more comfortable position only to send them both to the floor.

They lay there for a few moments, on their sides, wedged between the couch and his flying saucer coffee table. His finger circled the breast he’d neglected while he’d been busy with other parts. “You felt like a virgin.”

“It’s been a while.” She rested her head in the crook of his arm and gave in to the inevitable. “This can’t interfere with work.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, even more vehemently than she had.

“Because if it’s going to . . .”

“It won’t. We’re too smart for that. And we both know this had to happen. Now we’re going to see it through.”

“Lovers when we’re naked,” she said. “Business associates when we’re not.”

“I couldn’t have phrased it better.” He wedged up on one elbow. “Have I mentioned how much I like you? When I don’t feel like killing you.”

She smiled. “I like you, too. Most of the time, anyway, and that’s rare. I’m much too critical of your sex.”

He tweaked her nipple. “From the way you were screaming, I think my sex did pretty damn well for itself.”

“Definitely better than last time.”

“You aren’t going to let me forget, are you?”

“I’m not that decent.” She tugged hard on a piece of his hair. “You’d better not try that spanking thing again, because you won’t get away with it twice.”

“I’ll treasure the memory.”

She traced her fingers down the hard slope of his arm. “You should know I’m not usually so selfish. I believe in giving as well as taking.”

“You’ll have to prove that.” He nuzzled her neck. “Let’s hop in the shower so I can see if you’re all talk.”

“So soon?”

“I’m a highly trained athlete. I have powers far beyond those of mortal men.”

She definitely couldn’t argue with that. He helped her off the floor, and they headed for the open staircase, but before they got to the top, she had to make sure they were clear. “We agree, right? No games. We’ll do this until we get bored with each other or until another ravishingly beautiful movie star decides she needs some quarterback arm candy.”

He grinned and squeezed her rear. “It’s a deal. And no screwing around with your cop boyfriend.”