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over the edge again. The feel of him slamming into her and knowing he was losing control because of her always made her crazy.
    When he tore his mouth away from her breast, he surprised her by roughly grabbing her by the back of the head and devouring her mouth with his. His lips were bruising, almost punishing, but so erotic she didn’t care.
    He reached between them and tweaked her clit, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. The action had her wrenching her head back from his and crying out his name. As soon as the word tore from her lips, he came too, spilling his seed into her in long hot strokes.
    The feel of his warmth filling her almost made her come emotionally undone. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she pushed out a long breath as she came down from her high.
    Burying his face against her neck, he lightly nipped her with his teeth. “Talia.” Her name on his lips almost sounded like a prayer. So reverent, despite its unsteadiness.
    She blinked a couple times to clear her thoughts and pulled her head back. As she moved, he did the same and stared at her. Normally he was so guarded but right now, in the afterglow of sex, she could usually read his expression. He looked very satisfied.
    He half smiled. “If we can actually make it inside, I wouldn’t mind tying your hands to your headboard.”
    Her pussy clenched around his still-hard cock at those words. It didn’t matter how often they had sex, he always seemed to be in a permanent state of arousal. Even after he’d climaxed. And now he wanted to tie her up? Her nipples began to tingle with awareness even though she should be completely sated.
    Now he smiled fully, big and knowing. “You like that idea too.”
    Why bother denying it when he could feel the proof wrapped around him? Instead, she smiled seductively. “When you’re done, maybe you’ll let me tie you up.” She knew he’d never let her, but she wanted to see his reaction anyway. There was something in the man’s DNA that simply refused to be dominated. She might not completely understand it, but she knew that much about him.
    He snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
    Grinning, she reached over and plucked her discarded dress from the passenger seat. “We’re lucky none of my neighbors saw us and called the cops,” she said as she tugged the dress over her head. Some of his warmth spread down her thighs but they’d be inside soon enough so she could clean up.
    He chuckled as he reached for his own shirt, though he didn’t make a move to put it on. “If they did, they probably just watched.”
    When they were like this, totally relaxed around each other, it was hard to believe she had any issues with him. “So you not only have bondage fantasies, you’re into voyeurism too?”
    “I didn’t say I wanted to watch anyone.” Grant shook his head as he tugged his pants back up and zipped them. He didn’t bother with the button and she knew why. As soon as they got inside, he’d be taking them off immediately. He rarely wore clothes at her house, even when they weren’t getting physical.
    “Well, you owe me a pair of panties.”
    He sighed and picked up the ripped shreds of her thong from the floorboard. “I’ll just add it to my tab. I think I owe you, uh…quite a few more.”
    She could feel her cheeks heat up under his intense stare. Yeah, he certainly did. Not that she usually bothered with underwear when she knew she’d be seeing him. It seemed so pointless. But she hadn’t known how tonight would end up. Or maybe somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind she had. When he’d told her she might see him at the martini club, she’d had a few naughty thoughts on how tonight would go. The image of him tearing off her underwear—like he had so often that first week they’d gotten together, back when she’d still worn them around him—might have played in her head a time or two.
    “Keep looking at me like that and we won’t make it to your bed,” he