With movements that were urgent yet somehow leisurely at the same time, his tongue stroked over hers, in perfect harmony with the continued caress of his fingers. She arched into his hands, gratified when his palm cupped her entirely, his thumb teasing her nipple.

Anxious to do the same, she used her hands to explore the hard body that covered hers. Pleasure from his touches fueled her explorations as she ran the tips of her fingers over his back, her palms following along the long cords of muscle. She continued along those lines and traced the bone of his rib cage, then moved diligently on until her hands covered his chest.

He was hard and firm, in such contrast to the softness he even now explored, and she ran her hands over that flat surface. When she reached the small, flat disc surrounding his nipple, she used the edge of her nail to trace flesh. The hands against her breasts grew more urgent, the pleasure acting upon her even as she gave it in return.

And then, just like the way he'd picked her up in the living room, he shifted the moment, moving down her body like liquid silver. His clever fingers found the closure of her slacks and before she could catch her breath, he had them open and already sliding down her body, her panties smoothly captured as well.

"You sure do know your way around."

He smiled up at her from where he'd slid to the foot of the bed, his smile devilish in the moonlight that spilled through the window. "I'm not gonna lie. I've practiced that one in my mind more times than I can count."

"How lucky for me."

"No," he shook his head, repositioning himself on the bed. "The luck is all mine."

Before she could even summon a smile, he moved again, his hands firm on her legs where he dragged them to his shoulders. His mouth fastened on the very center of her heat, and Daphne thought to correct him. The words had very nearly formed when he did something with his tongue-something magical and naughty and positively divine-and she screamed instead.

Oh, how very lucky for her.

Pleasure consumed her as his mouth played over the most sensitive part of her. The connection of their bodies produced a glorious rush of mindless elation as the world outside vanished.

As the questions within vanished.

In those moments, it was simply the two of them and the joy they brought to each other.

And it was in the midst of that bliss that Daphne knew-without hesitation and without question-that she loved.

Landon explored the woman beneath him, the knowledge he gave her pleasure the strongest aphrodisiac, the greatest gift. She was perfect, the arch of her body against his mouth the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.

A ravenous hunger gripped him, for her. For what was between them. For the opportunity of a life together that whispered to him when he was with her.

Small, telltale signs signaled to him she was close to her release, and he added to the pressure, first with one finger, then another. His own body was strung out on the wild edge of pleasure, but he held himself back, wanting to give this to her first.

He was wild to give her a release purely of his own making. With tongue and fingers he kept up the pressure, gratified when she let go. He lifted his mouth but left his fingers in place, stroking her through her orgasm, shocked at the power of what he felt for her as he watched her take her release.

Beauty. Joy. And the most awesome power he'd ever known coalesced in the magic of her release.

Not power for its own sake, but the wild strength that came of their joining. And the humbling realization of just how vulnerable and open she was to him. She'd trusted him to take her on the journey, and in that trust she'd given him everything. All that she was. All that they shared.

"Landon." A lazy smile hovered around her lips.

"Daphne."

"That was pretty amazing."

"Only pretty amazing?"

"You just blew my mind. Forgive me if my vocabulary isn't up to snuff yet."

He laughed at that, still laughing when he moved up her body and pressed a kiss against her throat. "Sorry for the quiz."

"No, I'm sorry."

He lifted his head from where he drew a line of kisses over her collarbone. "For what?"

"Being so greedy. I think we're only half done."

"I think you're all the way done."

She lifted on an elbow, pressing on his chest to roll him to his back. "I could get doner."

"There goes that vocabulary again."

"I'm no scholar." Her hand snaked out to her end table drawer, the telltale sound of a condom packet being withdrawn. "But I am a very able student."

She reached between them and gripped his cock, the curl of her fingers over flesh shooting stars behind his eyes. The diligent self-control he'd exercised was stretched like a thin wire already, but her touch nearly unmanned him.

Desperate to hang on and wait until he could bury himself deep inside her, he attempted to focus on the conversation. "Any chance you have a school uniform to back up that promise?"

Her fingers danced over his body before she gave him a moment of blessed relief and opened the condom. In seconds, she had it positioned at the head of his cock, but managed to torture him through the slow, sensual unfurling down the shaft.

"Woman-"

She gripped him once more, this time firmly at the base, and he nearly came off the bed. "I like to think of myself as a fast learner."

"You're certainly acing this test."

Unable to wait any longer, he rolled over and positioned himself above her. The hand that was still firm against his flesh guided him to her body, and he felt himself sinking as he slipped inside of her.

Hot. Tight. Welcoming.

She moved her hand from between their bodies, wrapping her arms around his waist as she tilted her hips to give him better access.

"Oh Landon." She purred in his ear.

"Hmmm?" He was nearly too mindless to respond as he began to move inside of her and the question came out like a half grunt.

"I keep my school uniform in the same closet as my handcuffs. I'll pull out both for round two."

Lord, have mercy.

The hot, sensual woman wrapped around him did battle with the image she'd planted in his head, both fueling him on as they began to move. She matched his rhythm, taking him in as each stroke brought them both ever closer to fulfillment.

Ever closer to that exquisite place where nothing existed but the two of them.

He pushed them both on, building the pleasure, driving the moment, until once more he felt the telltale signs of Daphne's release building deep within her. And as the moment overtook them both, her body tightening around his, Landon knew he'd lost more than his mind or the diligent control of his body.

As the warm, wanton woman came apart in his arms, Landon knew he'd lost his heart as well.

Sixteen.

Butter pooled on top of her stack of pancakes, picture-perfect, as Daphne prepared to add syrup. Her mother's voice had attempted to intrude ever so briefly on the moment but she diligently ignored it, well aware she'd earned every bite of fluffy goodness this morning.

She and Landon hadn't just hit round two, but had managed a third before falling asleep, and a fourth in the shower that morning, before heading to Stewey's for breakfast.

She'd earned these pancakes fair and square.

What she hadn't quite earned was the understanding of how to manage the man across the booth from her.

The night had been everything she could have dreamed of and more. Landon was attentive, fun, and damned good at sex. And while she'd never considered herself an expert, she'd had enough mediocre experiences to know when it was spectacular.

Was it spectacular because he's some sort of sex ninja or because you're in love with him?

Her knife pushed too hard into her stack of pancakes and she nearly ended up knocking over her coffee, but pulled back at the last minute.

Love?

That emotion was too new-and too all-encompassing-to manage along with all the feelings of these pancakes. So she'd vault it and think about it later.

Much later.

Besides, if last night proved anything, it was that they needed to get past his case to move toward any real measure of discussion. She'd mentioned Amber because not mentioning her had felt like a big deal, but once she did, it was like waving a red flag in the middle of a bullfight.

Amber McGee was Landon's dark spot. And much as she wanted to understand all that had contributed to making him the man that he was, Daphne was well aware her bigger challenge was dealing with what was now, not what had happened in the past.

His mother was back. And if Landon believed she'd stay away now that she'd seen him again, he was likely in for a difficult surprise. All Daphne could do was see him through it.

"You going to propose to that short stack?"

"What?" She looked up.

"You're staring at those pancakes as if they hold the secrets to the universe."

"They're very good pancakes."

"Stewey makes the best."

"So this is your place?" Daphne looked around, taking in the aged walls and homey feel of the diner. She'd been here, of course-no one lived in Park Heights their entire life and didn't hit Stewey's from time to time-but Landon's affection seemed to have deeper roots.

"I love it here. So yeah. I guess you could say it's my place."

"Why do you love it so much? The food's good, but-" Daphne leaned forward, "-Eva Sue's Country Cafe over on Sixth will give Stewey a run for his money on the pancakes."

"Devil!" He waved his fork at her. "Away from me. Don't you dare utter the Country Cafe's name in this fine establishment."

"Stewey's not a fan of Eva Sue, is he?"

"Not during business hours."

"The rest of the time?"

"You'll have to ask them. But last I heard, she's at his place or he's at hers pretty much every night of the week."

"That's the cutest thing I've ever heard."

Landon swallowed a bite. "Love amidst the pancake wars?"

"No, the fact that you're spreading gossip like a schoolgirl."

His wadded up napkin arrowed for her head and she caught it midair.

"Nice catch."

"You're talking to a woman who's been in the middle of tossed meal artifacts her entire life. I perfected the napkin catch before I turned five."

"Four older brothers are a bit overbearing?"

"Overbearing. Oppressive. Frustrating. The list of adjectives is pretty long."

"No problem with your vocabulary there."

The reminder of last night's pillow talk had her stumbling for a moment, but before she could gather herself he'd pressed on.

"You ever consider that having four oppressive, overbearing brothers is the reason you're such a good cop?"

"You think I'm a good cop?"

"Well, yeah. Of course I do. You're thorough and dogged and you don't take shit off of anyone. Of course you're a good cop."

Appreciation sparked in his eyes and she lost herself for a moment right there in those deep, dark pools. He thought she was a good cop?

"Even though we've gone head-to-head over my work?"

"We can go head-to-head over mine if you'd like, but I'm not changing my zombies. Or jewels or purses or whatever the hell else I'm creating at the moment. Why should I assume you'll back down on yours?"

On impulse, Daphne flew out of her side of the booth and barreled into his. Her lips dove for his, the all-consuming fire of the moment-and her sheer appreciation of his words-driving her into action.

If he was surprised by her seat change he caught up quickly, wrapping his arms around her as he took her deeply into the kiss. The sounds of the diner faded away-clinking silverware against plates, shuffling newspapers, early morning conversation-shifting to a dull hum she couldn't even hear any longer.

Instead, all she heard was the sound of her heartbeat, and the rush of blood in her ears, and the light, sensual exhalations as they kissed.