It was neither cautious nor smart, but Carlotta couldn’t stop herself from tilting her face to his and letting her eyes slide shut. His lips didn’t cover hers. Instead, a growl filled her ear as he plunged his fingers into her hair and tugged just forcefully enough that she couldn’t call his grip gentle.

“You’re tempting me, Lottie. Not here. Because once I start, I don’t know when or if I’ll stop. Think long and hard about that before you offer me your mouth again.”

Then suddenly, he was gone—his fingers in her hair, his body heat against hers, that deep voice that made her shiver. She opened her eyes with fluttering lashes, then caught sight of his taut profile. Every muscle in his body looked tense, poised for battle…or sex. Her gaze flitted down. The front of his jeans protruded, looking even harder than the rest of him.

Instead of being scared as she’d been the last time he had kissed her, she felt herself tremble with excitement. Her belly flipped. Parts of her that she had barely thought of in years suddenly turned slick.

Goodness.

She turned away as Caleb took the cans of paint from the store’s employee and loaded them on the flatbed. He rounded the square counter of the paint department, gathering tarps and paintbrushes, painter’s tape and a bit of sandpaper. Caleb did not once look at her as he dragged the cart behind him, but her intuition told her that he was not angry. Rather, he was restraining himself. For her.

His actions were commendable and sweet. Still, she hoped that he would not remain too sweet.

Carlotta had never imagined that anyone—much less a hunk like Caleb—would find her attractive at this stage of her life. She felt a bit like pinching herself. Of course, his behavior suggested that he had always been attracted to her. Shortly after her divorce, however, she had been too anxious and shell-shocked to handle Caleb. She had wondered if he merely pitied her or thought she would be an easy mark to ply into bed. Over time and through Hunter, she had come to know Caleb much better and realized that he was exactly as he seemed: honest to a fault, steady, sexy. A protector. A provider.

A lover.

“Come with me, Lottie.” His voice rumbled as he nearly sprinted to the checkout counter at the front of the store.

She rushed on her high heels to keep up and chastised herself for not wearing more practical shoes in a store this huge.

As they reached the register, Caleb threw everything on the counter that would fit and jogged to find another cart, shoving every item in the moment the cashier scanned it. Hunter had paid for the flooring in advance, so Caleb left that on the flatbed. He barely listened to the total the cashier rattled off, but swiped the debit card, checked his phone for the PIN, and punched it in. The second the machine spit out a receipt, he grabbed the scrap of paper and tore it free, tossed it in one of the bags, then ushered her to the cart. He took the flatbed with the flooring and jerked it behind him as he all but ran out of the store. He had the truck half loaded before she reached the parking lot.

Carlotta suppressed a smile. If he was half as aroused by the idea of a long, wet, hungry kiss as she was…then, yes, she was impatient to be out of the unromantic orange of the big-box store and to reach someplace more private.

On the drive back to the new house, Caleb remained intensely focused on the road. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Thick silence shrouded the cab of the truck. Two yellow lights and a sharp turn into the driveway later, he brought his truck to a quick stop, then killed the engine. His abruptness startled her a bit.

“Out of the car, Lottie.”

Suddenly, the swarm of butterflies in her stomach attacked. It was one thing to ponder kissing a man when she was desperately out of practice. After all, she had not kissed anyone since their second date. What happened if things heated beyond a kiss? She was not twenty-one anymore. Her body showed it. The thought of being naked in front of Caleb filled her with anxiety.

But no denying that she had missed having a man’s touch. Being with Eduardo had been a rush of love, but short on actual pleasure. They had come to one another virgins, and the babies had come so quickly that they’d had very little time for satisfying sex. They had spent the next years being parents…and then a violent man had snuffed out Ed’s life. Gordon had been her only other lover, and he had approached sex as he had everything else—selfishly.

She suspected that being with Caleb would be totally different. He might be a man of military precision, but he had the drive and ambition to be successful at any endeavor he undertook. The thought that he could give her true pleasure both excited and terrified her.

“Lottie?”

Whipping around toward his voice, she saw him standing at the passenger door of the truck, holding it open and watching her with a concerned expression.

She smiled and set her hand in his. Caleb gently tugged her down and against his body. He was hard all over, his eyes narrow as he studied her. His breathing fell in low pants on her face.

“Caleb?”

“Come with me,” he said finally and pulled her away from the truck and up the walkway to the kids’ new front door.

With a press of his key fob, he locked the vehicle. Carlotta looked over her shoulder as Caleb shoved the key in the lock and opened the door to the house.

“Are we leaving everything in the truck?”

Caleb pulled her into the house and shut the door, then backed her against the wall beside it. He settled every angle of his body to her soft curves and cupped her cheek. “I’m trying like hell to go slow and not scare you away again, but the way I want you…” He swallowed. “If you’re going to say no, say it now, Lottie.”

She drew in a shocked breath and blinked up at him. The way his fingers curled around her neck, the way those incredibly blue eyes delved deep into her, the desire tightening his face…he would not stop with a kiss.

The Catholic girl in her said that a good female did not have sex out of wedlock. The fifty-year-old woman whimpered that revealing herself to a man as fit and beautiful as Caleb would be nothing short of embarrassing. The hungry woman in her with thirty years of lackluster sex in her past wanted to know just this once what it meant to splinter apart because an experienced man had the patience and care to unravel her.

To hell with guilt and insecurity.

Caleb might be as subtle as a bulldozer and he might have frightened her once, but she had grown stronger, more confident. Today, he had proven himself competent of meaningful discussion. Over and over, he had shown her that he respected her fears and feelings. If things between them did not last and they still had to see one another at family gatherings…well, she would cross that bridge then.

“Caleb,” she whispered, lacing her fingers around his neck, pressing herself closer to his body and the erection she couldn’t possibly miss. “Kiss me.”

Chapter 4

He did absolutely nothing for a long heartbeat, just tightened his grip on her and stared down into her face. Something primitive, possessive, snarled across his expression as he lowered his head with a moan and settled his lips over hers. Commandingly gentle. Trembling with tenderness. A brush, an exchange of breaths, once, twice.

Without a doubt, he held back for her, and the painstakingly polite kiss was touching—but completely frustrating.

In the past, all his heat and hunger had worried her. Now it just made her ache for more.

Carlotta tore her mouth from his. “Not like this, Caleb. Kiss me like you did the last time, when I felt certain you meant to consume me. So I can feel that you want all of me.”

A feral smile crawled up his lips. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He pulled her away from the wall and into the middle of the great room, shrugging out of his jacket and laying it across the carpet.

“On there.” He pointed.

She did not hesitate. In fact, the demanding tone she had once found intimidating now made a new ache dance between her legs.

Never taking her gaze from him, Carlotta eased down onto his leather jacket. It smelled of him, musky, so manly and leathery. Her heart started racing, beating in a mad rhythm. Her palms began to sweat. She had read such descriptions of women being excited by a man before, even heard a few whispers. She would have sworn they were all lies until now.

He attacked the buttons of his shirt as he kicked off his shoes and sent her a piercing stare. “Lottie, if you’d like to keep all those clothes in one piece, start removing them now. I’ve waited over two years for you. My patience has ended. I’ll make it up to you later. Right now, I want you naked.”

His words sent a shiver through her. Undress for him in broad daylight? She had never done that. Goodness, that sounded terribly sheltered. Her first husband had preferred darkness and they had rarely progressed past fumbling around clothing, especially after the children had been born. Gordon had often waited until she was asleep, frequently pushing her nightgown up and spreading her legs before she was even awake, much less excited.

“But…you will see me.”

“Pardon my French, but I fucking hope so.”

If anything, his impatience was climbing. He tore his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it on the ground. Carlotta’s mouth went dry. Bulging shoulders, one covered in a faded, but still dangerous-looking dragon tattoo. A light dusting of hair just between rigid pectorals. They tapered into a washboard of abdominals that had her gaping in stunned silence.

“You are beautiful,” she breathed.

“You are too, Lottie. I don’t want to hear you try to tell me any differently. And you’re stalling. Off with that blouse. I’d rather have your skirt off too, but if I have to just push it up and rip off your panties to get to you…”

He would. Caleb didn’t even finish speaking the threat because he didn’t have to. Carlotta did not doubt that he would follow through.

With a shaky nod, she reached blindly for the buttons on her blouse. No way was she taking her eyes off him. He was too beautiful. Besides, if he winced or turned away from the sight of her exposing herself…well, then she could cover herself again quickly.

Her fingers shook as she pushed each button through its opening. The cool air hit her collarbones, the swells of her breasts, her abdomen. Then Caleb was kneeling beside her, tearing the rest of it from her body.

The beige lace bra she had chosen this morning without any thought of sex was both sturdy and modest, and she wondered if he would be put off by something so utilitarian. “I am sorry it is not sexier. My…breasts are not small, and I am not as young as I once was.”

“Not sexy?” He reached behind her, and with one hand, popped open the four hooks holding her bra closed. It slithered down her shoulders, and Caleb dragged it off her body, falling to his knees in front of her to palm one breast. “God, these are beautiful. You know you’re never going to get me off of you again, right?”

It may have been the wrong reaction, but she laughed. It felt good to be wanted. It felt even better to be touched, and when his thumb flicked over her nipple, sensation zipped up her spine. She gasped.

“You have ten seconds to get that damn skirt off, Lottie, or I swear I won’t be responsible for how fast I lift it or how hard I fuck you.”

She peered up at him, then blinked, speechless. No man had ever used that language with her in the bedroom. Always, she had found that particular f-word a bit vulgar, but coming from Caleb’s mouth with his growl of desire, it did crazy things to her heartbeat, heated her blood. She drew in a shaky breath…and realized that the seconds were ticking away.

His strong hands curled around her ankles. He took a moment to appreciate her one indulgence: red heels. The color of blood, about three inches high, they were sensible enough to be comfortable, but eye catching enough to be sexy. Then, one after the other, he peeled them away and tossed them to the other side of the room.

Their gazes met, clung. Her heart, which had beaten like a drum against her chest, stopped for a long second.

“Caleb…” She didn’t even know what she was asking for. Reassurance? A promise that all would be well?

“I’ve got you. I’m going to take good care of you, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good. But get the damn skirt off. Now.”

Something in that voice made her jump to obey, that steely tone of authority, she supposed. It wouldn’t lie to her. It wouldn’t let her down.

Carlotta reached behind her and unzipped her skirt. Slowly, she wriggled it down, conscious of Caleb’s gaze roaming her. After three children, her abdomen was not as firm as it had once been. Stretch marks had faded to faint silvery lines long ago, but time and the years of idleness during her ankle injury meant that her midsection was no longer anything close to flat.

“Stop stalling, Lottie. I want to see you.”

Finally, torn between being modest and being attractive, she lay on her back and pushed the skirt past her hips. The second it reached her knees, Caleb grabbed the black garment and tore it away, leaving her in nothing but a pair of lace-trimmed beige hipster panties.