“And so you’re a slob,” he added, lifting his head and looking around at the havoc. “And yeah, okay, you do own a dorky shower cap. I just don’t care, Dimi.” He turned her to face him, cupping her jaw in his big, warm hands, waiting with barely restrained patience until she opened her eyes to look at him. “I don’t care about any of it except sinking into you, hearing you cry out my name, feeling your legs wrap around my hips and knowing I can’t tell where you end and I start.”

A tremor started at the region of her heart.

“I just want you,” he whispered. “All of you.” His hands skimmed down her body, renewing the flame as he eased her onto the counter, stepping between her legs so she had no choice but to wrap herself around him.

“Want me back,” he murmured, sinking his fingers into her hair, placing his mouth over her jaw, her lips, her throat, renewing the heat and need in less than two seconds flat. “Say it.”

Not a problem, since every inch of her shook with the need. “I want you back.” And because she did, because she wanted him with everything she had, she tugged at his black leather jacket, which he shrugged off to join her discarded things. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she demanded, going to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Grinning, he added his hands to the mix, and then he was as wonderfully, gloriously naked as she.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Wow.” She ran her hands over his leanly muscled chest, his flat belly, his amazingly strong shoulders, anywhere and everywhere except the one place on his body that was currently nudging her in the belly because…well, quite frankly, that made her very nervous.

He wasn’t nearly as shy, and in less than a minute he had her hot and shaking and desperately whimpering, but when he brought out a condom from the pants he’d shucked to the floor, she once again came to her senses, because for all her man hunting, for all her whining, it had been awhile since the actual act, and even then it hadn’t been anything to write home about.

And here was Mitch, standing in all his very naked splendor, and…he was huge.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, tearing open the little packet.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he donned the condom. “I doubt it,” she said, thinking there was something inherently wicked about watching a man touch himself.

Lifting her chin with his finger, he kissed her, soft and sweet and somehow unbearably sexy. “I’m going to fit.”

She swallowed hard, nodded and prepared herself, but Mitch ran his hand down her body, over her breasts, her belly, to the throbbing flesh between her legs, teasing, stroking, until she couldn’t remember what she’d been hesitant about…until he removed his hand, wrapped her legs around his waist, grabbed her bottom in his big, warm hands and sank into her.

It was so utterly delicious, and she was so utterly close, she could do nothing but clutch him and squeeze her eyes shut, waiting for him to move, waiting to be dropped off the cliff into ecstasy.

But he didn’t do anything except hold himself really, really still.

“Dimi.”

Please, was her only coherent thought.

“Dimi?”

With some effort she opened her eyes.

“Okay?” he whispered.

Okay? Couldn’t he see she wouldn’t be okay until he gave her that orgasm? The one she needed above all else including air? Darn it, she didn’t want to talk, she wanted action!

“Baby, am I hurting you?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, the words bursting out, thrusting her hips up to meet his. “Don’t talk, just do me!”

Startled, he stared at her for one heartbeat, then let out a rough laugh. “Absolutely.” And bowing his back, he began a deep pumping with just the right rhythm, so that it was as natural as breathing to cry out his name, to toss her head back and explode right out of herself.

Registered blind, deaf and dumb as she was, she hardly heard his cry. She certainly couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything, until finally her senses returned and she realized Mitch was leaning over her, muscles quaking, breathing every bit as harshly as she.

She was just giddy enough to open her mouth and let her first thought fly. “I’m definitely revoking my no-man rule for you.”

He jerked, then stared at her. “What?”

The horror in his gaze definitely brought her the rest of the way to earth. Crashing to earth.

Without an air bag, no less.

“Nothing,” she said stiffly. Because she wouldn’t repeat it, not even at the threat of death, not with him looking at her like that, as if she’d started speaking in tongues. “Nothing at all.”

She shoved him away, opened the bathroom door and kicked out their pile of clothes, perfectly aware half of them were hers, but she was having a moment here. “I’d like for you to go now.” Go fall off a cliff, damn you.

“Dimi-” He reached for her, but she backed up and grabbed the only weapon available to her, a tampon. Still, she wielded it with honor. “Out.”

He very wisely did not comment on the tampon in his face. “We’re going to have to discuss this.”

“Over my dead body.”

Then, unladylike as it was, she pushed the beautifully naked man over the threshold of the bathroom and slammed the door.

This time she locked it.

Her only regret was not having a freezer in the bathroom. She sank to the edge of the tub and thought about that. With a freezer, she’d at least be able to have ice cream at her own pity party.

11

“CAMI.” Dimi gripped her cell phone tightly. “I know it’s the crack of dawn, I’m sorry.”

“What’s the matter?” Cami croaked, obviously half asleep. “It must be bad. This is way too early for anything but very bad.”

“I terrified a man in my bathroom last night.”

“What did you do, threaten him with perfumed shampoo?”

“Funny.” Dimi blew out a breath, merged into traffic and headed toward the studio with what felt like bricks in her stomach. “I told Mitch I was revoking my no-man rule. You should have seen him. He turned green, like he needed to puke. Flattering, huh?”

“Dimi, did you do this before or after you knocked it out?”

“Who said anything about knocking it out?”

“In the bathroom…please. What else would you guys do in there together? So…did you? In the shower?”

“On the counter,” she muttered, swiping a hand down her face as her sister cackled with wicked delight. “Listen, you’re missing the point here.”

“No, I’m not. You revoked your no-man rule in a moment of passion. Understandable. There’s not a woman on the planet who wouldn’t get it. A man, however-they’re a different breed. They don’t want to hear such things while they’re still breathing like a racehorse. They need to process their emotions, and honey, it takes them awhile. They are men, after all.”

“Great. In the meantime I’m left feeling like an idiot.”

“Oh, no. You can still turn this around,” Cami promised. “All you have to do is stick to your plan to drive him crazy, remember? Don’t lose focus here, Sis. Sidetrack him with your body, and he’ll forget that you terrified him in the bathroom with all that after talk he’s not ready for.”

“Well, dammit, that’s just embarrassing.”

“Trust me on this one, Sis. You’re still in the driver’s seat.”


BY THE TIME Dimi arrived at the studio, she’d come around to Cami’s way of thinking. Mostly because she could only wallow in humiliation for so long. She had to do something, and it might as well be to continue to drive Mitch as crazy as he’d driven her.

If he thought she’d let loose of her passion before for the show’s sake, watch out! She’d learned her powers well. After all, she’d had the best teacher-him. Tease for tease, she was going to give it back. Starting today.

She was woman, hear her roar.

A good amount of the wind went out of her sails when she got to the set and heard the latest rumor. Mitch was leaving in just two days.

Two days.

Okay. Good. No more being on edge throughout the day, wondering if he was going to look at her, touch her, make her crazy with wanting.

No more fretting over their future, because obviously there was nothing between the two of them except for a slightly out of the ordinary heat they couldn’t control to save their lives.

No problem.

She got ready for the day’s show, and when Mitch came in with only two moments to spare, without his usual time to talk to her, she smiled grimly. He’s just one big chicken, she decided, which really worked in her favor and gave her even more courage.

She waited until the countdown. At the fifteen-second mark she sidled in close to him, missing her own mark to stand nearly on his toes. Sliding her hands up his body, she cupped his face and brought his ear down to her mouth, all on the guise of whispering some last-minute direction. “I’m not wearing plain white cotton panties today,” she whispered. “I’m not wearing panties at all.”

Whipping his head to face her, his eyes wide, he opened his mouth, but she put a finger to his lips. “Our little secret.”

“Five seconds!”

Their lower bodies were hidden from the camera by the counter they stood behind, which gave her the courage to slide her hand down his spine as she stepped away. Down his back to his butt, which she squeezed.

He jumped and looked at her as if she were an alien.

She winked, and when she noticed his very unmistakable erection beneath his nicely fitted slacks, she grinned, satisfied.

“You’re on!” shouted the director, pointing at them.

“Welcome to Food Time.” Dimi stepped around the counter and reached a hand for Mitch to do the same.

He pulled his hand back and shook his head. It was the first time she’d seen him not quite in control.

She knew perfectly well why he didn’t want to step around the corner and show off his erection, but it still made her want to giggle. “Shy today, Mitch?” she teased. “A bit silly after all we’ve been through together on the show, don’t you think?”

For once completely speechless, he studied the ingredients she had scattered on the countertop and refused to speak.

She bit back her laughter and faced the camera. “Today we’re creating sauerkraut balls, but first we need to whip up the frosting for our dessert so it can sit and thicken.” Ignoring Mitch completely, she curved one hand around a large bowl, with the other whipping the contents of her frosting. “I chose to do this by hand because there’s a slim chance I can work off some of the calories before I even eat the thing,” she said, smiling as she worked the whisk, and in the process shaking her tush wildly from side to side. “What do you think, Mitch?” she asked over her shoulder, turning her head to smile at him sweetly, knowing that by standing behind the counter, as he was, he was getting quite the show.

All shocking intensity, he just looked at her, his dark, dark eyes promising passion, mutual pleasure…and retribution.

Somehow she managed to break eye contact. She worked diligently preparing the sauerkraut balls, though she was very aware of Mitch’s gaze on her.

He’s leaving, she reminded herself ruthlessly.

Remember that. “Don’t forget to preheat the fryer for the balls,” she told the camera.

Mitch stirred and lifted a brow.

Do not blush, she instructed herself. This is all about revenge. “Roll each ball in flour.” She demonstrated, and had never in her life been so painfully aware of being watched as she was with Mitch there, tall, dark, silent and simmering with tension. “Then dip your balls into the egg sauce, letting them drain slowly into your bowl.”

“Pretty hard on those poor guys, aren’t you?” Mitch murmured, wincing when she pinched the ball into shape.

“Roll it into the bread crumbs,” she said, trying to ignore him.

He leaned over her shoulder, once again grimacing. “Hey, treat those things with more care, would you?”

“After the bread crumbs, drop it into the hot oil.”

“Ouch.”

“Fry for two to three minutes until golden brown.”

“Whatever happened to tender?”

She refused to look at him. “Serve immediately, or they’ll wither.”

Mitch broke into laughter.

When they cut to commercial break, Dimi whirled on him. “I don’t appreciate the comments.”

“I don’t appreciate the choice of today’s menu. Frying balls, Dimi? Gee, is there a message in there somewhere? And what was that with the frosting, huh? Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“It’s a short drive,” she told him, sounding superior.