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‘I’ve spoken to Mr Simcock, my grandmother’s lawyer. We’ve done what we can pre-emptively. Until Holden actually makes a move, our hands are tied.’

‘Skye—’

‘I don’t want to talk about it tonight. Please, TJ …’ She shifted closer, her movements a little unsure.

But TJ knew what she was asking. Even as he looked at her face, trying to confirm it, her eyes changed from two wells of fear and grief to black pits of need. ‘You have to say the words. Tell me what you want.’

Skye did not hesitate. ‘I want you to kiss me.’

The words punched through him. All his worry and fear for her took a back seat as his body took over his mind.

He said, ‘Fucking finally.’

He crushed his mouth to hers, stole into her with none of his usual charm or skill, only a desperate and unfamiliar urgency.

He groaned as her taste flooded him. She was so sinfully sweet. Temptation embodied. Bewitched, he took without thought, sliding his tongue against hers in a desperate plea for more.

It was only when he heard her quick inhale and felt her stuttering, uncertain response that he stopped. He pulled away, took a huge gulp of air, and cursed himself. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay—’

‘No. It’s not.’ He’d lost himself.

TJ might have hated himself for it more if he hadn’t been so shocked. He’d never, not once, not even at sixteen in the cab of his truck, lost control with a woman. It was a point of pride for him. But he didn’t think he’d ever, even at sixteen, wanted a woman with this unhinged thirst.

He turned to Skye to apologize again, saw her huge eyes, filled with stunned disbelief, watched as she raised her fingers and tentatively touched them to her bruised lips. ‘Don’t be sorry. That was nice.’

TJ went from half-mast to raging hard instantly. He bit off a groan and took five long seconds to get control of his body. ‘It was nice. But it wasn’t what I wanted to show you.’ He reached for her, stopped when he saw how she tensed up. ‘I want to hold you,’ he explained. ‘I want to show you that I can be gentle.’

She nodded cautiously.

He lifted her small body easily, settled her sideways on his lap, her legs dangling over one side of his, her weight pressing down on his erection.

She shifted, trying to reposition herself over the intrusion and forcing TJ to grab her hips and hold her still. He let his forehead drop to hers. ‘You need to stop squirming.’

‘Oh.’ The single, breathy word danced over his cheek, making him smile.

He gently tapped her right leg, said, ‘Here,’ and patted where he wanted it on his other side on the tailgate.

Skye shifted, straddling him, her knees on the hard tailgate, her centre hovering over his, denim stretching over her slight curves. He took her hips again, and even though he pulled her closer, he stopped before they touched. ‘Now you can choose how much contact you want.’

She placed her hands on his shoulders, and she lowered back down onto him.

‘Let’s try this again,’ he said, and this time, he pressed his lips to hers in the faintest of touches, and when she didn’t return the kiss right away, he gently, tenderly, rubbed his lips over hers, wordlessly showing her what he wanted and giving her the option to take that next step.

She sighed open for him. Her tongue danced with his in long, gentle strokes that slowly stirred his blood. Her hands rose to his head, brushing over his short hair before her arms wrapped around his neck. As if she needed to hold on to him. As if he were capable of going anywhere.

She sank down onto his lap, pressed herself firmly against him. TJ wasn’t even sure she was aware of what she was doing until she broke the kiss to breathlessly murmur, ‘More, TJ. I want more.’

He searched her face, trying to see if what she wanted was actually what she needed. But her face – eyes black with lust, lips swollen from his, cheeks pink with a sensual blush – told him what he wanted, not what she needed.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do with a needy woman in his arms. Oh, he knew what he wanted to do. That was easy. But if his parents had taught him anything, it was that sex and doubt of any kind were never to be mixed.

So, he tried to take the high road. ‘Slow, remember? We have time.’ But even as he said it, his mind screamed, Not enough!

Skye must have had the same thought, because she argued. ‘No, we actually don’t. I leave on Sunday.’

He tried humour. ‘How long do you think it takes exactly?’