Excerpt:

"Did you really invite me here for coffee?"

She ducked her head and turned away, threw the can in the garbage beneath the sink, then leaned against the counter, not looking at him.

"I won't say no, if you-"

"I've never done this before." She turned then, and her cheeks glowed with a bit more color than normal. "I don't bring men home. Ever. I haven't even really dated anyone, other than Sheila's grandsons, since I moved here. I don't have time."

He moved toward her, blocking her into the corner between counter and sink with his body, but he didn't touch her.

Her eyes widened. "I don't have time," she repeated. "I'm very busy with work and school and...and I don't even know your last name."

"Peterman," he said, using his mother's maiden name. The name he used for his day trading. The name he used in this town because he didn't like admitting who he really was to anyone, because everyone knew Ridgecroft Industries.

Her pink tongue came out to moisten her full lips, and he nearly groaned. His cock throbbed against the fly of his jeans. If she told him no, it just might kill him.

"Johnson," she said, her soft voice little more than a whisper. "That's my last name."

He smiled and moved a bit closer, until he could feel her heat, her breath. "A pleasure to meet you, Dixie Johnson." He lifted her hand, noting the calluses, and kissed the back. She sucked in a quick breath, and he lifted his gaze to capture hers. "Do you want me to leave?"

Her silence spoke volumes. She wasn't sure. Releasing her hand, he stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Sorry," he said and moved into the living room, away from temptation. He should have known she wasn't the type of woman to sleep with a guy she just met. He couldn't remember the last time he met a really good girl. A real one. Everything about Dixie spoke of wholesomeness. Purity. Perfection.

If nothing else, he didn't deserve her. He was as close to being a good guy as Attila the Hun was to winning Humanitarian of the Year award.

"I guess I should be going. I'll-"

Her fingers closed around his forearm, and she tugged. He turned toward her, and his breath whooshed out when she threw her arms around his neck, pulled his head down, and latched onto his mouth with hers.

Holy fuck!

Her tongue speared into his mouth, and her breasts pressed against his chest. He wound his arms around her and pulled her tighter against him, nudging his instantaneous erection against the apex of her thighs.

After loosening the leather strap in his hair, she spread her fingers against his scalp, holding him in place. She moaned into his mouth and rubbed against him. He jerked his head back, sucking in a much-needed breath, and she nibbled on his neck, whimpering little sounds that nearly pushed him over the edge. Her hands ran through his hair, tugging slightly. If she didn't slow down, he'd come before he ever got his fly open.

"Dixie. Dixie. Slow down."

Her breath came out in shallow pants, and she rested her forehead against his shoulder. "Don't leave. And I didn't invite you for coffee. I want to have sex with you. But oh, goodness, Bastian. It's been a really long time and..."

He chuckled and smoothed his hand over her soft, springy hair. "It's okay, babe."

She sighed, her hot breath a caress against his neck. "I've never slept with a white guy, either."

"Ah, but Miss Sheila said I was a keeper. And if she approves..."

Dixie's gusty laugh warmed his heart. But then she pulled back slightly and looked up into his eyes. "I really don't have time for a relationship. I don't want you thinking that...that I'm looking for more here."

Hmm. He never thought hearing those words would be quite so disturbing. Lord knew he'd used them a lot over the years, but he'd never been on the receiving end. Referring to his earlier thoughts, he knew he wasn't good enough for this sweet woman. Besides, next week she'd be his employee, and Ridgecroft Industries had strict rules about fraternization.

He knew how to physically please women, though. Giving her a few mind-blowing orgasms was the least he could do for her.

"Where's the bedroom?" he asked, and at the same time she blurted out, "I don't have any condoms."

He grinned and cupped her cheek in his hand, gazing into her deep, dark eyes. "I've got that covered."

Her shoulders slumped as if she'd been holding her breath. "Good. Bedroom's down the hall."

Instead of releasing her, he turned her and backed her through the living room and down the hall, nibbling at her lips as he went, his hands folded at the small of her back. It was nice to have a tall woman. He didn't have to contort to kiss her, and all her curves fit and hugged him in all the right places.

"Fuck, you're sweet."

She chuckled.

"What do you like?" he asked, his years as a Dom too difficult to completely suppress, even if he knew this would probably be the most vanilla-like sex he'd had in a decade.

As they went through the bedroom door, she reached out and hit the light switch. When he stopped her at the foot of the bed in the tiny space that was her bedroom, she looked up at him. "Like?"

He nodded and reached for the buttons on the front of her smock. "Uh huh. What do you like? What positions? Oral? Anal? Straight? Doggie? Missionary? Hard or soft?"

"Uh..."

He looked up from the beautiful breasts he was slowly revealing with each button he undid and saw her shock. "Fuck. I'm sorry. That was a little-"

"How about straight and spontaneous?" She ducked her head and watched him finish the buttons. "I'm not used to answering a questionnaire."

This time his smile was one of relief. God, he needed to watch that. From years dealing with women in the lifestyle, women at Incognito, which is where he'd exclusively picked up women over the past few years, he was used to needing the questionnaire. It usually came right after, "Hi, I'm Bastian."

"I can do spontaneous." He slipped the smock off her shoulders to reveal a pale pink bra against her dark skin. "You are so fucking beautiful." He bent and kissed the top slope of her right breast. She sighed and found his hair again, running her fingers through it, lightly tugging.

"I love your hair," she murmured.

He unhooked the front clasp, and her breasts sprang free. Her nipples were fat and hard, the color of dark chocolate. I love your boobs, he thought as he leaned down and captured a plump peak between his lips.

Her fingers fisted in his hair, and she moaned, arching into is mouth.

Sweet and salty, her taste made him harder than he thought possible. After the fiasco last week at the club, he'd decided a bit of celibacy would do him good. Fuck that. He couldn't wait to sink into Dixie.

She tugged his shirt out of his pants, and he moved back just long enough to pull it over his head, and then he pushed her bra straps off her shoulders and wound his arms around her, pressing her against his chest. When she gasped, he captured her mouth and sank his tongue deep.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he ground against her, his cock throbbing with an ache he hadn't felt in ages. A need he hadn't had in years. Not only the need to possess and conquer, the one he fulfilled with the stray sluts at the club, but he wanted, needed, to please her. Yearned to hear her cry his name as he made her come again and again and again.

She nipped his shoulder as he licked her ear. "You cuss a lot."

"Sorry."

She ran her short nails over his pecs, scraping against his tightened nipples.

His body jerked in reaction. "Ah, fuck."

Her laughter was the sweetest sound. He captured her lips with his, sinking into her warm, soft mouth as he unbuttoned her jeans.

"Bastian." She gasped when he broke contact to push her pants down her legs.

"Yeah, babe. Say my name like that. It makes me hard."