Her Sexiest Mistake

Her mouth tightened. 'Fine. Will you pretty please let me inside so you can do me?'

He let out a surprised laugh. 'What, is it my birthday?'

'Yep, and I brought you just what you wished for,' she said with just a slight hint of that Southern drawl in her voice now, a sound that gave him back some of his power. He took one last breath as a smart man and stepped back. 'Do you want something to drink?'

'No.'

'How about-'

She kicked the door shut behind them, then slid her hands up his bare chest into his hair and tugged his head to hers.

'Okay, no drink, no talk,' he said as she bit his lower lip, just sunk her teeth right into his flesh and tugged, whipping his blood into an instant froth, from cool to boiling in just under two-point-zero seconds. 'Jesus.'

He was already off balance, so when she gave him a light shove he fell back against the wall. Her scent surrounded him, some complicated mixture of exotic perfume and woman as she sandwiched him there with her body, taking her hot, greedy mouth on a tour along his jaw, exhaling slowly in his ear, making him groan as his hands gripped her hips hard for balance in a spinning world.

Then she slithered out of his hold and dropped to her knees.

Jesus. 'Mia-'

'Right here.' She yanked his sweats down, baring his ass to the cold wall behind him, and everything else to her gaze. She whispered his name then, or what might have been his name, on a sigh so soft it drifted like silk over his heated, hard flesh as she took him in her hands and stroked.

He sucked in a breath. His knees buckled, and he hit the ground hard. Had it been only a minute ago he'd been feeling hollow and empty? Because, he didn't know how, but she was changing that for him, filling him, making him feel whole.

It wasn't real. Hell, she wasn't real, but the warm, silk-clad body against him said otherwise, and he couldn't pull away to save himself the grief that would come later-not when his brain, hungry and awakened and desperate for release, had clocked out. She was touching him, making him smolder, then flame, and then she dragged him all the way down to the floor and straddled him.

With a slow, achingly sensual smile, she pulled a condom out of her pocket, untied her robe, and shrugged it off her shoulders.

Her breasts gleamed pale and full in the foyer light, swaying when she leaned over him and took his mouth with hers. He was lost then; but as she stoked the condom down his length, then lifted up and took him deep inside her body, he was found.

Simple and unbelievable as that. Having had enough of her being in control, he surged up and tucked her beneath him now. She tried to rear up, but he entwined their fingers, holding her hands on either side of her head as he thrust into her again and again until she cried out, shuddering as she came with a soft, gasping cry. Burying his face in her hair, he followed her over.

It took him a while to gain his breath, though he did manage to roll off her so he didn't crush her farther into the hard floor. Then he lay there gaping like a beached fish, thinking, so much for basketball keeping him in shape.

She shifted, and he was reminded of her last, hasty exit. Reaching out to pull her into him, he put his mouth to her throat, running his hand up her warm curves.

She put her hand over his, squeezed, but then scooted away and stood up.

Smiling up at her beautiful naked body, the one he wanted to put his mouth all over, every inch, he wiggled his fingers at her to come back.

Slowly she shook her head and reached for her robe.

And his smile faded. 'Ah, hell. Not again.'

'It's late. I've got a teenager in the house. God. A teenager.' She shook her head as if she still couldn't believe it. Then she glanced down at him, at his expression. She let out a sound. 'You're not going to make this complicated, are you?'

Still flat on the floor,, still twitching from the aftermath of great sex, he let out a low laugh and managed to shake his head. 'No, no complication.' Gathering his strength, he staggered to his feet and snagged her hand, tugging her close, trying one more time to reach her. 'You came over here just for this then.'

She stiffened up on him and blinked warily. His little Ice Queen. 'Yes.'

'Well, then, I'm going to ask you to take back what you said this morning.'

She didn't pretend not to know what he meant. 'Fine.' Her lips quirked. 'You don't have-what was it-stinky feet.'

Ah, wasn't she funny. 'Mia.'

'And you don't snore.'

'And…'

'And…' She smiled as she belted her robe. 'And maybe next time we'll get to a bed to see about that other thing.'

His poor heart gave a quick kick. 'Next time?'

The flicker of unease across her face fascinated him. She hadn't meant to say those words, and he knew why. She didn't like to repeat. And not only had she repeated with him, she'd just admitted she wanted to repeat again. Unable to hold it back, he smiled.

She let out a frustrated sound. 'There will not be a next time.' She flung open the front door, braved the rain. 'Good night.'

When it shut rather hard, he stood there, still staggered, still half aroused, feeling as if he'd been hit by the Mack truck all over again.

She was bad for him. Bad, bad, bad. Next time she came knocking, even if she wasn't wearing a damn stitch, he wouldn't sleep with her. He would not make the mistake a third time. 'Better keep telling yourself that,' he muttered and managed to find the energy to pull his sweats back up. He went to the fridge, but no food fairy had appeared, so he headed for some mindless TV.

A few hours later, the front door opened and Mike stood there, eyes glossy, crooked smile in place. He gave an exaggerated wave.

You're drunk, Kevin signed.

Nah. Just a little looped. When he signed the looped part, he nearly took out his own eye.

Tell me you didn't drive.

Nope. Got a ride. Mike blinked exaggeratedly and eyed Kevin. You look like hell. What hit you?

A Mack truck.

Was her name Mia Appleby? Mike laughed at the thought, but when Kevin didn't, Mike shook his head. Ah, Christ. She got you again, huh?