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Ayla slid her hands up Oz’s chest and around his neck.

He kept the kiss gentle, undemanding, and when his arms went around her waist, his hold stayed light.

She knew him well enough to understand it was his way of making sure she felt safe, that she could free herself at any time and he wouldn’t stop her.

She didn’t want to end this kiss. Ayla wanted more.

The damn man had been a perfect gentleman since he rescued her at the bus station.

The worry that he only wanted the one night with her faded away when he’d shown her the earring.

When Oz told her he carried it with him everywhere.

No one went to that much effort for a woman he wasn’t interested in.

It was a relief. She hadn’t been able to force him from her mind since the night they spent together.

This kiss? It might be sweet and easy, but Ayla felt his restraint.

Oz straightened and she tightened her hold, keeping him from stepping back. Going up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his. She didn’t have to test her calf muscles for long. He bent toward her, letting her stand normally again.

It was a little detail, hardly worth noticing, but over the past four or five days, there’d been dozens and dozens of these tiny things he did to take care of her.

Ayla’s appreciation of Oz grew the more time they spent together.

She opened her mouth under his, inviting him to deepen the kiss.

After a brief hesitation, he did, still being careful. The kiss didn’t last long enough.

“Oziah.” His name came out like a sigh. “More, please.”

“Please?” His lips curved. “I love how polite you are.”

“Do you?”

“Uh-huh.” He nipped her lower lip. “Prissy in the streets.”

“And wild in the sheets. With you.”

He went still. “Is that an invitation?”

Fear stabbed through Ayla. What if he wasn’t as interested as she believed? One of her sister’s favorite sayings flitted through her brain. No risk, no reward. How long would her embarrassment last anyway if she was wrong? “Definitely an invitation.”

Oz’s eyes went molten. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“I can’t get any more pregnant.”

His grin made her toes curl. He sobered before he said, “You don’t have anything else to worry about.”

“You either.”

“I know, Pollita. Before our night together, your virginity almost grew back.”

Her cheeks scalded. “Thanks for reminding me I said that.”

“You’re cute when you blush.” Oz ran a thumb across her cheek. “If you change your mind, let me know and we’ll stop. If I go too fast and you want me to slow down, just?—”

Ayla put two fingers over his lips. “I know. If I didn’t trust you, there wouldn’t have been an invitation. Heck, if I didn’t trust you, I never would have gone to your hotel room with you back in Los Angeles to begin with.”

After kissing the pads of her fingers, Oz took her hand and lowered her arm. “LA was fun and games. We’re at a whole other level now.”

He might have stated that, but Oz wanted to make sure she understood this would change things between them irrevocably. Ayla nodded. “We’re in deep waters.”

“The deepest. Be sure, Ayla.”

“I’m sure. I want you, Oz.” And not only in bed. “What about you? Are you sure?”

As an answer, he lowered his head and kissed her. There was still restraint, but the leash he kept on himself was loosened. “Positive.”

The contrast of heat and gentleness left her spinning and Ayla closed her eyes, sinking into Oz’s kiss.

He took his time to savor the moment as if they had forever.

Maybe they did. With a soft sigh, she opened her mouth under his, inviting him again to deepen their connection. He did but at the same slow pace.

She ran her hands across his shoulders and hit the strap of his holster. It knocked some of the dreaminess out of her. There were things to do. Important things.

Opening her eyes, she met his gaze, saw the banked heat there, and caressed his nape.

It was late in the afternoon, and she had no doubt he’d keep her under wraps until the morning even if it were a normal day.

He didn’t allow her to search once the sun set.

She could sit in this room and discuss disguises, or she could make love with Oz.

Easy decision.

“Do you want to stop?”

Ayla shook her head. “No. The reminder you’re armed jarred me for a minute, that’s all.” Her lips curved. “I didn’t have to worry about holsters in LA.”

“I’ll remove it at some point, but the pistol is going to stay within reach. We should be safe, but I’m not risking it.”

“That’s one of the things I appreciate about you—the way you take care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” Oz said, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I know you will.” Ayla turned enough to catch a full kiss. This time, she was the one who nipped his lip. “You’ve watched over me since I first saw you. Did I ever tell you how grateful I was for the rescue?”

“You did, but if you hadn’t, the night we spent together was thanks enough.”

“We’re standing here, talking,” Ayla pointed out.

“Pollita, you wanted to stop. You wanted to talk. I told you, you’re always the one in charge. I’m not going to hurry you along. We’ll take as much time as you need and not only now. That’s a forever promise.”

A forever promise.

Ayla gazed up into his earnest blue eyes and it suddenly hit her just how deep the waters were that they were swimming in. At least how deep it was for her. Somehow, some way, she’d fallen in love with Oziah West.

Oz watched a stunned expression cross Ayla’s face. It didn’t last long before she tightened her grip on his shoulders and pulled herself closer. “I’m done talking. Let’s pick up the pace.”

“You’re the boss,” he said. Oz was definitely ready to move things along.

There’d been a tentativeness in Ayla, one that had him taking things leisurely, but it was gone.

In its place was decisiveness. His Pollita knew what she wanted, and it was him in bed with her.

That didn’t mean he was going to rush, though.

He needed to make sure she understood they weren’t having sex. They were making love. They were forging a bond, one that had nothing to do with their baby and everything to do with the two of them.

Oz was claiming his woman.

Threading his fingers through her hair, he steadied her for another kiss. This one held nothing back and she met him fire for fire.

Ayla pushed at the fatigue shirt he wore open over his T-shirt and he released her long enough to shrug out of it.

She was wearing another loose, flowing shirt in some blue color with a garden printed all over it.

Oz tugged one of the ties at the neckline, deepening the vee.

He ran a finger over her skin as he headed for the second tie.

Another tug and he could see the swell of her breasts. Dipping a finger behind the shirt, he traced the cups of her bra across the top. It was a tease for both of them. Her skin was soft, smooth, delicate. Pale compared to the tanned skin of his hands.

He moved to the buttons below the ties.

“Those are decorations. They don’t open,” Ayla said with a note of breathlessness.

“Guess I need an alternate plan.” He moved back a step, prepared to slide up under the hem, but she took matters into her own hands. Ayla had the shirt up, off, and tossed toward the wobbly yellow chair in a flash.

“Problem solved.”

“I see that, Pollita.” Her bra was plain, but it looked sexy as hell because it was her. Her blonde curls hit where the straps ended, enticing him forward. Oz wound a finger through one of her ringlets and leaned down for a kiss. Ayla met him halfway.

Oz took his time opening the hooks on her bra. His touch was even more gentle as he ran a thumb across one crest. Her eyes stayed dreamy. Cupping her with both hands, he continued his light caress.

“Stop teasing,” Ayla said.

“Teasing?” He raised his gaze to hers.

“I need more than these butterfly grazes.”

Now he understood. “I read that a woman’s breasts are sensitive when she’s pregnant. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s sweet.” She didn’t sound appreciative. Ayla tugged his T-shirt out of his pants. “But you’re being too careful.” She reached for the button at his waistband and slipped it free. “I’m not made of glass, and Oz? I’ll let you know if I don’t like something.”

“Understood.” He moved her hands away before she could tackle the rest of his button fly. “You get out of your pants. I’ll take care of mine.”

Taking off his holster, he checked out the situation by the bed.

No nightstands or a headboard, but there was a flat ledge on the wall behind it.

He set his weapon down and pulled off his T-shirt.

He unbuttoned his fly as he walked back to Ayla.

She was looking nervous, standing there in only her panties, and he needed to put her at ease.

He loved little Miss Priss, but he also loved how wild she could be when she forgot her self-consciousness.

Oz ran a finger under the elastic at the waist of her panties. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a cotton girl. In LA, there was all that lace.”

Ayla’s lips curved. “With the heat and humidity, cotton is a much better option than synthetic. Are we really discussing my choice in panties?”

“Well, yeah. You were tensing up on me, and this got you to relax. Mission accomplished.” She stepped back when he reached for her. “Pollita?”

“I didn’t change my mind. You have more clothes on than I do, including boots.”

Oz received the message she hadn’t spoken aloud. She’d feel more comfortable if they were equally undressed. He wasted no time getting rid of everything except his briefs. Her eyes devoured his every move and he was fully hard by the time he finished. “Better?”

“Definitely.” It was Ayla who closed the distance between them. Pressing her breasts into his chest, she put her arms around his neck again and went up on the toes to kiss him.

His brain melted. This was the woman he hadn’t been able to forget. The woman constantly in his thoughts since the night they hooked up. The woman he would never get enough of. And by some miracle, she wanted more of him, too.

He ran his fingers lightly up and down her back, kissed his way to her ear, and lightly nibbled at the lobe.

Ayla’s hands weren’t still and she pushed him to his limits, especially when she put both hands under his shorts and squeezed his ass.

Oz struggled for control. He didn’t win the battle, not when she moved to his front, her hand curling around his shaft.

Oz took her hands and held them. How could he worship her the way she deserved when she kept pushing?

Her eyes were darkened with arousal as she growled his name. “Hurry up,” she added.

He shook his head. No, he wasn’t hurrying this. They weren’t hooking up, this wasn’t casual. He was going to show her with his actions how much?—

Ayla gave him a shove. He was close enough to the bed that when he stepped back, his legs hit the mattress. Oz was trying to regain his balance when she gave him another shove. He landed on his back on the bed.

She climbed on top of him, straddling him. The only thing keeping him from where he wanted to be was her panties and his shorts. “Pollita?—”

“No, you had your chance. You said I’m in charge, right? You took too long. Now I’m the boss.” Ayla ground against him.

“I just?—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. She dove and covered his mouth with hers, taking what she wanted with no prissiness at all. Oz gave up. He could show her how precious she was next time.

Wrapping both arms around her, he rolled, putting Ayla underneath him.

He remembered everything she liked that night in Los Angeles and he put that knowledge to use as he kissed and licked his way down her body.

Okay, so maybe he was still careful with her breasts, but he was damned if he’d do anything that wasn’t pleasurable for her.

Oz paused for a moment to press a kiss to her belly, a silent vow to both his woman and their unborn baby that he was going to care for them. Then he had her panties off. His shorts went next.

His Pollita was wet, ready for him, but he kept enough control to ease into her body. Sweet. So fucking sweet. The only other time he’d ever gone bareback had been with Ayla. Today, he didn’t need to pull out. Just thinking about that made him shudder.

Oz gave her a moment to get used to him, but before he was ready, she arched up and rolled her hips. Message received. Oz thrust.

Her gasp made him freeze.

“Oziah,” Ayla growled, voice thick. “That was pleasure, not discomfort. Move.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Maybe he remained careful, but Oz moved as ordered.

Ayla didn’t make it easy for him. She met each of his thrusts, making him forget to be as gentle as he meant to be. When she hooked one of her legs over his hip, Oz lost the reins. He pushed into her, doing everything he could to drive her excitement to the limit.

She arched hard against him and dug her nails into his shoulders as she came. He kept moving, and a moment later, he joined her.

“Mine,” he whispered against her throat mid-orgasm. He kissed her neck, but that was all he could manage.

It took a while to calm down. Oz shifted his weight off Ayla but tucked her carefully against his side. She was his. His woman. His family. His forever.

Next up—convincing his Pollita that he was her forever, too.