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D amon trudged up the stairs of the apartment building, following Tiffany. Though Caius was dead and Mark’s death avenged, his stomach twisted into knots, dread eating away at his insides about the task lay before him. Damned if he hadn’t sent himself to hell with this...

He needed to tell her. Now.

Before it was too late.

He swallowed hard, lifting one foot in front of the other, trying to act as if his one chance at happiness wasn’t about to walk right out of his life. His heart pounded in his ears. Whoever the hell had come up with the bright idea that traumatic moments moved in slow motion could eat one of his fists. He would rather climb this stairway for eternity than face the next step—and, man, the climb was going fast.

Their goodbye had only lasted this long as it was because he’d insisted on seeing her to her door. But how could he do this? Feel as if he deserved her when she still didn’t know that Mark continued to live. If you could even call the life of a vamp one worth living.

They reached the final landing, and Tiffany crossed to lucky apartment number seven. No, there was nothing even remotely lucky about that number. It would be the last trace he would see of her once she closed—or, more likely, slammed—the door in his face.

She seemed all too eager to get this over with.

Pulling her keys from her purse, she reached for the knob before turning toward him. “This is it,” she said. “No more hunting for me. For now, at least. Are you satisfied?”

He bit his lower lip. Hell, no. He would never be satisfied until she was his, until he knew that every morning when he woke up she would be lying right by his side, her face as peaceful and gorgeous as it had been during their night together.

The night she’d given him her virginity.

He wanted to tell her that. Wanted to tell her so many things. But he couldn’t.

Not when he was still keeping the truth from her.

A sharp pang hit his heart, but he nodded to say that, yes, he was satisfied.

It couldn’t have been further from the truth.

How could he have let this happen to him? How could he have fallen so hard? The thought of her staying with him sent pulses of ecstasy and elation beating through him. But as he stared at her eyes, knowing he would never see it again, all he felt was pain. He would have suffered death a thousand times over rather than see her walk away from him.

She let out a long sigh. “I…never thought I’d be saying this to the man I thought was responsible for Mark’s death, but thank you. Thank you for helping me to kill Caius.” She flashed him a weak smile. “I know it’s probably not much consolation, but after what happened in the alleyway, when I left you behind, I…understood why you left Mark. I got caught up in the hunt exactly like you did, and if I’d been in your place the night Mark died, well, I can’t say I would have done any differently.”

Damon exhaled a long breath. He wasn’t sure what to say. All he managed to choke out was, “Thanks for that.”

Another weak smile crossed her full lips. Then she slid her key into the doorknob and twisted until it unlocked.

His mind raced. Every function in his body seemed to shut down and come alive all at the same time. Was he really going to let her walk away?

Say something, asshole!

Finally, he forced her name out. “Tiffany?”

Turning toward him, she met his gaze, a slight look of hope in her eyes he couldn’t escape. “Yeah?”

Say something. Say something. Say something— anything.

“You should…uh, get a stronger lock than that. I’ll send someone over to install some extra reinforcement. Don’t worry about the cost, it’s on me.”

Fuck. That was all he could say?

Within an instant the spark in her eyes faded. “Oh, okay.” Pausing, she met his gaze one last time. “Well, thanks again. For everything. I trust you’ll destroy all the viral vamps.” She turned away from him and opened the door.

God damn it, he was a weak man. The woman he loved, his one chance at happiness, was about to leave him and he was going to let her. And for what? One mistake?

His heart stopped.

One mistake ...His breath caught. It was one mistake. One mistake in a lifetime of choices. Choices that’d led him to her.

Who was he kidding?

He didn’t care if he was a good man, if he did or didn’t deserve her. He loved her. That was enough, damn it.

Stepping over the threshold, she began to pull the door closed behind her.

He closed the space between them, placing a hand on the door to stop her from closing it.

Tiffany spun around. “Da—”

Lifting her into his arms, he kissed her before she could utter another syllable. Her tongue met his, and they crashed together hard as he held her in his arms. Her hands snaked over his shoulders. Her touch sent pulses of energy through him. She was meant for him. Meant for this.

They both were.

His body stiffened to attention and pushed against her soft stomach as he pressed her against him. Quickly, he slammed the door behind them and pushed her up against the door frame. She gasped as he lifted her and wrapped her legs around his hips. He wanted to feel her hot and tight around him. Now and always.

Every day if she’d let him.

He shoved his hips harder against hers, and she let out a small cry. Her lips brushed against his before he pulled his mouth away from hers to trail soft but desperate kisses across her collarbone. A moan escaped her lips. The delicious scent of her warm vanilla and cinnamon-scented skin filled his nose, and she tasted just as sweet.

His Shortcake.

Mine. He grinned.

He kissed her neck one last time before whispering softly against her lips, “You didn’t think I’d let you walk away that easily, did you?” Cupping her cheek with one hand, he captured her lips again.

Several small tears trailed down her cheeks, and he prayed they were happy ones. He pulled away and whispered in her ear again. “Let me make love to you.”

She nodded, and a rush of adrenaline flooded every inch of his body. She giggled softly as he carried her toward the bedroom, and he couldn’t hold back his own grin. A more angelic noise had never graced his ears.

Walking into Tiffany’s bedroom was like stepping back into a dorm. Then again, despite all her maturity, she was still a college student. He chuckled as he laid her down on her pale green comforter. From the brightly colored lamp shades lined with small fake crystals to the bookcases stocked with textbooks to the fluffy white carpet beneath his boots, Tiffany’s room shouted her spirit from the hilltops.

Damn.

He was pushing thirty, and here he was with his best friend’s little sister. But at the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to give a damn. He stared down at her. The swell of her breasts lifted with her quick breaths. He ran his hand over the soft curve of her hips, admiring every feminine detail. For someone who tried so hard to appear tough and callous, beneath the surface she was anything but.

And right now, she was staring up at him with her heart on her sleeve.

He’d do his best to deserve it. Be the man she needed him to be.

Without a word, he dragged her dress off over her head, unhooked her bra with one hand and drew the pink tip of one nipple into his mouth. She moaned beneath him as he teased her breasts with his mouth and hands. She rocked her hips against his, eager for him to take her.

He released her from his grasp and stood before her. He shrugged his coat off and threw it onto the nearby desk chair before kicking off his boots. Smiling, she pulled herself up and knelt on the bed in front of him, then toyed with the hem of his shirt before slowly lifting it over his head. She tossed it to the side and unbuttoned his jeans.

Pausing, she leaned her head back and gazed into his eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging his middle. “My heroic B.” A small smile crossed her lips. Then she unzipped his pants and thrust them down around his ankles.

He was on top of her within seconds, straining with need as he positioned himself outside her entrance. She was already so wet for him.

She ran her fingers over his naked chest, then wrapped her arms and legs around him. “You have no idea how many times I dreamed of this,” she whispered.

“Me too, Tiffany,” he whispered. “Me too.”

A lump filled Tiffany’s throat, and she fought back tears. She hadn’t exaggerated. She’d dreamed of lying beneath B, beneath Damon, countless times. He was even more handsome, even more incredible, than she had imagined. A shiver ran down her spine.

Their first time turned out to be nothing compared to the intimacy she discovered in his touch now. Now, that she knew how much she meant to him. She didn’t wish it any different.

This time there would be no pain, no fear or reluctance.

In one quick push, he penetrated her, her warmth wrapping around him as he slid deep inside. He filled every inch of her, and she cried out. With strong but sensitive movements, he thrust into her, the rhythm sending waves of pleasure through her.

Every nerve, every inch of her skin, was alive and on fire.

The scent of his skin filled her nose. He was everywhere. His hands, his mouth, his tongue reached every part of her, leaving no spot untouched, as if he was discovering her body for the very first time. And she his.

Fully. Completely.

The full history of their feelings for one another between them.

But the faint scent of antiseptic from the hospital still lingered on his skin, a crude reminder of his still-healing shoulder. A tense knot gathered in her chest. How could she have been so stupid? She ran her hands over the muscles of his shoulders.

Because of her negligence, she’d nearly lost him.

Propping himself up on one arm, he suckled on her lower lip, then kissed her long and deep, making her forget her worries. The sweetness of his tongue sent a rush of heat straight to her core. A gruff moan escaped his lips as she slickened against him. His pleasure empowered her. The man holding her was a fierce warrior who fought against the strongest supernatural beings in the world. He could massacre monsters with his bare hands, but she wanted to be the one to make him as weak in the knees as he made her.

Slipping his hand between them, Damon fingered her the soft flesh between her legs. She cried out as he rubbed against her soft, sensitive folds, the pressure building inside her until she teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

He ran his lips over her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine as he whispered to her, “Come for me, Tiffany.”

He drove into her in a hard thrust that launched her climax.

“Damon!” Heat rushed to her core.

She bucked against him as pleasure rolled through her. Grabbing his face with both hands, she met his eyes. “Kiss me, damn it.”

He smiled and playfully nipped at her neck. “Only if you come for me again.”

She gasped. He didn’t have to ask twice.

He continued to pump into her as he kissed her so hard her head spun with desire. Another pulse of heat flooded through her, igniting into a blaze.

As she finished riding the last remnants of her climax, she pushed hard against Damon’s chest, fighting to roll him over onto his back. He grinned at her feeble attempt before wrapping a single arm around her waist and rolling her on top of him.

He lay back as she straddled his stomach.

Her eyes widened as she drank in the sight of him. The toned muscles of his arms and chest flexed as he reached out to cup her behind. She squealed and wiggled against him as he tickled her. She fell forward, her breasts pressing against his pecs before she moved up and gave him a short kiss on the lips that was so intimate in its familiarity it made her breath catch.

Slowly she drew herself down the length of his body, her skin sliding over the hard ridges of his abs. Resting her head on his stomach, she snaked her fingers over his mouthwatering hips and belly, a delicious triangle of muscle with a small trail of dark hair leading down to his erection.

A low growl escaped his lips as she continued to move downward. “What mischief are you up to?” he purred.

He groaned as she brushed her lips against his arousal. “You pleasured me,” she said. “Now it’s my turn to pleasure you.” She ran her tongue over the length of him, and the sound of his deep moans filled her ears.

Crawling up the length of his body, she left tender, soft kisses around his bandage. But a tinge of pain filled her heart. The image of his pained face, his unmoving chest and the paleness of his cold lips were seared into her mind forever. His pain had shattered her. Something inside her crumbling to pieces at the thought of losing him.

Not again.

Twice she’d nearly shoved him from her life forever, but now, after seeing him so close to death, she knew she would never be able to live without him. She would show him pleasure and entice him to stay. Though deep down, she knew he would never abandon her.

Not like she had him.

After trailing kisses across his collarbone, she followed the line of his chest to the muscular curves of his abdomen, her mouth practically watering at the sight. She imagined all the hard work, the training, the dedication it had taken to tone his body.

He was perfect, like a piece of art.

He moaned as she massaged and caressed every inch of his body, from the crook of his neck and the bulk of his shoulders, all the way to his legs, hips and feet. He melted beneath her touch, and the look of ecstasy that crossed his face sent a rush of heat between her legs. She snuggled her body against him, her head resting on the tightness of his belly.

She whispered to him, allowing the heat of her breath to brush against his skin. “What can I do to please you?”

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he played with her long curls. “Your pleasure is more than enough.” His ice-blue irises blazed in the dim light of her bedroom. That fire told her exactly what he wanted, though he refused to ask. He was too sweet, too much of a gentleman, to express desire for anything but her pleasure.

Another moan escaped his throat as she stroked her hand over his shaft. “Tiffany...”

She placed a finger over her lips and hushed him. “Shh. No protests.” She placed her lips on him, and it was his turn to buck beneath her mouth. “I want to make you come,” she whispered.

Damon groaned as Tiffany’s lips wrapped around him, the warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloping him despite his considerable size. She slid her lips up and down the length of him, her hands working in tandem with her sweet, sweet mouth. When she finally released him, he was so close to finishing that the delay was pure torture.

She straddled his hips, rubbing her soft flesh against him. He ran his hands over her porcelain skin from her breasts to her narrow waist, all the way down to the delicious expanse of her hips. A low feral growl grumbled deep in his throat. One single curl fell into her face, highlighting her gorgeous smile. She looked so good it hurt. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to be inside of you.”

She flashed him a coy smile, nodding as she bit her lower lip. That was all the answer he needed. He spread her legs to reveal her sweet pink center, then wasted no time. He filled her, and she threw back her head and cried out.

She rocked her hips against him as he continued to pummel into her.

A shiver shuddered through his body as he neared his finish.

Tiffany ran her hands over his arms, her honey amber eyes locking with his. She was barely able to speak through her labored panting. Her chest heaved in and out, and she moaned as she neared her own peak. But a mischievous grin crossed her lips as she mimicked his words.

“Come for me, Damon.” The sound of her whisper drove him wild.

In one final thrust, he emptied himself into her.

They both cried out; ecstasy the likes of which Damon had never felt tearing through him. Moments later, she collapsed on top of him, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled the coverlet over him. Elation filled him as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. She was his, well and truly his. They didn’t need words to say it.

Gently, he kissed her forehead before he buried his nose in her hair. They lay there in silence as the energy subsided, enjoying one another’s closeness for a long. His heart thumped hard against his chest. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came as she relaxed into sleep.

If he’d told her then that he loved her, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her in his arms, he wouldn’t have been lying...