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bellybutton, disappearing into his boardshorts. Placing his hoodie across the side of the truck, he looked at her and smiled.
    Sahara hadn’t noticed until that moment he had a lopsided grin, his right side a little higher then the other. This non-perfection should have turned her off, but when his heated gaze swept across her, she realized it made him even sexier. His long, jet-black hair draped over one sapphire-blue eye gave him a bad-boy charm.
    “Now you.”
    Sahara didn’t need any more encouragement as she reached for the zipper of her jacket, but he shook his head.
    Leaning into her, he whispered, “Let me.” The words were breathed in a husky, sultry tone against her ear.
    Her nipples puckered, tingled, begging to be touched—caressed. When his fingertips grazed her cleavage, icy shivers prickled along her skin. Slowly he dragged the zipper to her jacket down and pushed it off her shoulders. The material held her arms trapped, and God if it didn’t turn her on.
    He smiled that lopsided grin as if he knew exactly how she felt. Gazing into her eyes, he reached for the strings of her bathing suit knotted behind her neck. With a single tug the top fell forward, revealing her breasts now heavy with need.
    His gaze dropped. “Beautiful.” He cupped her with both hands, his palms warm against her cooling skin. Running his thumbs over her nipples released another series of explosions deep inside her.
    “Don’t play with me,” she grumbled.
    “You don’t like to be played with?”
    “Yes. No. Can’t we just get to it?”
    Again with that damn grin, but this time his eyes sparkled in the moonlight with laughter. When the humor in his expression disappeared it was replaced with an intensity that made her nerve endings jump like a live wire. He swept a finger beneath her chin and raised her gaze until they were eye to eye once more.
    Devon moved so close she felt his warm breath caress her face. “Tell me your deepest, darkest fantasies.”
    The air in her lungs froze. No one had ever asked what her dreams were. Hell, no one she had ever dated had even cared to ask. Most men were into their fantasies and whatever their needs were. The one time she had asked for something off the beaten path it was met with shock and disgust. Yet the thought of providing this man with explicit details of her most intimate fantasies sent her pulse racing.
    Could she? Did she dare?
    No. She licked her lips nervously, remaining silent, but the forest was alive. In the distance she heard an owl screech. To the left a choir of crickets sang. Something stirred in the bushes, but her attention was plastered on the man before her.
    Devon smoothed a palm across her cheek. Snaking his fingers around the nape of her neck, he pulled her closer. “Do you dream of being taken tied to a bed or bent over a table? Maybe two men at once would make those baby-blue eyes of yours go wild. Or perhaps you want to be forced on your knees and made to take my cock past those soft, kissable lips.”
    The walls of her sex tightened and released, not once, not twice, but three times. Sahara bit back a moan, but somewhere she found her bravado. Now it was her turn to chuckle.
    “Why, Devon Taylor, I think you’re trying to shock me.” And he was doing a damn good job at it, because if she hadn’t been leaning against the truck she might have fallen.
    “You’re not a stranger to ropes, handcuffs and a little whip play?”
    She swallowed hard. Again she dampened her lips before she tilted her head at a cocked angle. She inched closer to him, whispering in his ear. “I can take anything you can dish out.”
    A gravelly growl raised from deep in his throat. He jerked her to him and covered her mouth with his. This time he didn’t coax her lips apart. No, he took what he wanted, probing and slipping past her teeth. He demanded entrance. At the same time, it was clear he expected her surrender, and she did, falling into his caress without any