“Yes,” she forced out, barely able to speak for all the sensations washing through her. “A lot.”

He chuckled, then ducked his head. Before she knew what he was going to do, he leaned forward and drew her nipple into his mouth. His lips closed around her and he sucked very gently.

Cynthia felt her mouth drop open. She’d read about this of course, but reading and experiencing had little in common. She always thought the idea of a man doing something like that was a little silly and…

His tongue circled her, then flicked over the tight peak. She breathed his name and decided that she really needed to expand her horizons and keep trying new things. This wasn’t silly at all. It was wonderful.

She felt as if her core temperature had increased about ten degrees. Her thighs trembled. Between her legs was a dampness she couldn’t remember having many times before, along with a persistent ache she’d noticed earlier. She felt sort of squirmy and tense, but also languid in a way that made her unconcerned when he moved to her other breast and suckled that nipple.

Slowly she brought her hands up to cup his face. She felt the faint rasp of stubble and the crisp cool ends of his dark hair. She explored the shape of his ears and the feel of the skin at the back of his neck.

When he pushed her away, her first thought was that he’d changed his mind. But before she could panic, he’d dropped to one knee and was unfastening her shoes. When she stepped out of them, he pulled off her socks, then returned to the bed.

His fingers sought the button at the waistband of her jeans. It unfastened as easily as her bra. Next he lowered her zipper. Large, masculine hands pushed down her jeans and panties in one, smooth movement. The next thing she knew, she was standing completely naked in front of him.

There wasn’t time to be nervous, though. Before the first panicky thought could form, she was back in his arms and he was kissing her. He urged her to straddle his thighs and she went willingly, settling her weight on him. The position left her feeling a little vulnerable, especially when one of his hands rested on her bare leg. But the kissing was so good and there was always the hope that he would touch her breasts again, so she really didn’t mind…even as he began to move higher and higher.

Then he was so close to the apex of her thighs that she couldn’t ignore it any longer. Keeping her eyes closed, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. One hand rubbed up and down her back while the other crept between her blond curls and touched her most secret place.

She’d read about Sleeping Beauty being awakened by a single kiss, but she’d never heard about anyone being changed by a single touch. Until now. She didn’t know if it was good luck on his part or design or what, but his fingers found one tiny spot that seemed to be magic.

At the first moment of contact, she nearly shot to her feet. Every muscle tensed, but only because the sensation was so incredibly wonderful. It was even better than when he’d touched her nipples. She gasped and clung to him, while he laughed softly.

“Got it in one,” he murmured and began to kiss her neck.

“Yeah,” she said, not sure what she was agreeing to, but also not caring.

He continued to touch her there. Gently, so very gently, but with a persistence that made her muscles quiver. She wanted him never to stop. It felt too good. She would have done anything, said anything, just to have him continue.

“I could never be a spy,” she whispered. “If I had any secrets, you would only have to touch me like this to get me to tell them all.”

“Do you have any secrets?” he asked teasingly.

“No. Do you want me to make any up?”

She didn’t hear his answer. Mostly because she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t. Not while he continued to touch her there, moving back and forth on that one spot. Occasionally he drifted away, exploring the rest of her feminine place. Once he dipped his finger inside of her, as if testing the most private part of her.

Does it feel this good for the man, she wondered hazily as he returned to the tiny spot of pleasure and continued to take her on an odyssey of discovery. It had to, but at this point in time, she didn’t really care. She just wanted to keep feeling the delightful tension that made her strain toward him. The fact that she was completely naked, on his lap, having him touch her so intimately was incidental.

Suddenly they were moving. Jonathan picked her up and turned her so she stretched out on the bed. He pulled off his shirt and tie, then his shoes and socks. Last to go were his slacks. He left on his briefs. Her gaze settled on the visible proof of his arousal. Two parts curiosity, one part fear made her shiver. Soon he was going to be inside of her.

“I want you,” Jonathan breathed as he moved over her and began kissing her.

She wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close. As his tongue entered her mouth, his fingers returned to her waiting heat. He settled on that special spot and began to move faster.

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Something was happening. The heat increased and her skin felt incredibly sensitive. Jonathan broke their kiss to move down to her breasts. He drew one nipple into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. The rhythm matched his fingers below. The combination was indescribable. Involuntarily her knees drew back and her hips arched upward. He rubbed lighter and faster, over and over until she felt herself on the verge of either flying away or coming apart.

Then he was kissing her lips again. He dipped into her mouth and retreated. She followed. As she did, his lips closed around her and he gently sucked on her tongue. At the same movement, he increased the pressure between her legs. Tension grew unbearably.

Suddenly she was both flying and falling, caught up in a vortex, she neither understood nor wanted to leave. Every part of her body experienced a pleasure so complete she wondered how she’d survived without it for so long. His hands slowed, their kiss ended and she found herself cradled in his arms.

He didn’t say anything, which was good because she felt a little embarrassed by what had happened. Had she said anything stupid or done it wrong?

“Thank you,” Jonathan said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Not only for being so responsive, but for making it clear what you liked. I wanted to please you.”

She risked a glance. He seemed genuinely happy so she smiled. “You did a really good job.” The words were so inadequate that she had to laugh.

He grinned in return. “A good job, huh? Wow. Talk about praise. I’ll have to get a plaque made.”

Then they were laughing together and suddenly it was all right. Cynthia hugged Jonathan and he hugged her back.

“Thank you,” she said. “I was really nervous and not sure how it was going to go. You made me feel wonderful.”

“I’m glad.”

Their gazes locked. She breathed his name and he kissed her. Slowly…deeply. Surprisingly her passion returned and with it the need to touch him and finally find out what all the fuss was about. She pressed her hands against his back and explored his powerful muscles. He was warm and smooth and felt so good to touch. He returned her caresses, first brushing her side, then teasing her breasts.

When her breathing had increased and she felt the now familiar heat flaring inside of her, he rolled away and opened a drawer on the nightstand. After pulling off his briefs, he removed the protection from its wrapping and slipped it on.

Cynthia rose up on her elbow to watch, but his back was to her and she couldn’t see very much. When he turned toward her, she caught only a brief glimpse of his maleness before he began kissing her again.

This time he knelt between her legs and cupped her face in his hands. His kisses were slow and drugging, leaving her aroused and panting. She felt something probing against her feminine place, then he was filling her.

“I want you,” he breathed against her mouth, his dark gaze finding hers. “I’m not sure I can hold back.”

Ah, cryptic conversation. “Me, either,” she lied, hoping it was the right line.

Jonathan frowned. “I wouldn’t think you’d have the same problem.”

Not knowing how to respond, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him thoroughly. That seemed to be enough of a distraction that he stopped talking.

She felt him continue to enter her. He was big and she stretched to the point of discomfort. Yet even as she wanted to protest, she had to admit she liked the feel of him inside of her. The fullness and pressure felt right, as if this was where he belonged.

He stopped for a second. “You’re really tight.” Then he pushed harder and there was a sharp pain.

She tensed, even as she realized what had happened. Goodbye to her virginity. There wasn’t any fear or regret-only a sense of conviction that she’d made the correct choice. But Jonathan didn’t seem to share her feelings. He’d stopped moving and when she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said, something close to panic filling his eyes.

The kissing had worked last time so she tried it again. “I want you,” she told him, echoing his words, then claiming his mouth. At the same time she placed her hands on his rear and pulled him in deeper.

He groaned as he buried himself inside of her. As he withdrew, he pulled back a little. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please. I want this.”

He swore, then dropped his mouth to hers and claimed her. As his tongue invaded her mouth, the most male part of him invaded her in other ways. They moved together. The back and forth movement was interesting. She felt some of the same tinglings she’d felt earlier, but before she could decide on the possibilities, he was thrusting faster and deeper and she sensed that his time was near.

Then he cried out and stiffened. She held him close and smiled.

Jonathan rolled onto his back and stared unseeingly at the ceiling. His brain didn’t want to process the facts, but he couldn’t avoid them. Cynthia had been a virgin. A virgin! He hadn’t known there were any left. At least not in her age bracket.

“You said you were twenty-six,” he said, his voice accusing.

“I am.”

“But…”

He turned to face her. She was naked and looking a little lost. Damn. Just like a kicked kitten. He didn’t need this trouble in his life and he had exactly no one else to blame. He shifted and held out his arms so that she could cuddle against him. She sighed and a warm puff of air caressed his chest.

“How did this happen?” he asked. “The virgin part.”

“Actually, I was born this way,” she teased.

“Great.” He took a deep breath and told himself to remain calm. Taking her virginity wasn’t the end of the world…even if it felt that way. “I was more interested in how you stayed one.”

“Oh.” She tilted her chin and looked at him. “It was pretty easy. I never wanted to go all the way with any of my boyfriends. I think it was because my mom had such a great relationship with Frank. I saw that and decided I wanted the same. I wasn’t willing to settle on some fumbling in the back of a car with a boy I didn’t care about.”

If she was trying to make him feel better, she wasn’t doing a very good job. “Cynthia, I don’t think-”

She reached up and pressed her fingertips to his lips. “Don’t worry. I’m not expecting roses and a proposal. What I was trying to say is that I wasn’t interested in sex for sex’s sake. I wanted my first time to be with the right person. I respect you, Jonathan. I admire you and I think we’re good friends. That’s why I wanted this.”

He stared at her, taking in her wide hazel-green eyes and her pale skin. She was young and beautiful and could he really believe her?

His first thought was no. His second was what on earth was he going to do now?

Then a sharp cry filled the room. They turned toward the sound and he realized it came from the baby monitor.

Cynthia sat up. “Someone is awake and hungry. I’d better go see about that.”

She collected her clothes and walked out of the room, leaving Jonathan feeling like he’d both escaped and been dismissed. He wasn’t sure which he wanted more.

Now what? Cynthia wondered as she fed the baby. She’d pulled on a robe and socks, and had taken Colton down to the kitchen. As she held the baby she thought that this wasn’t exactly the postromantic moment she’d been thinking about.

“No offense,” she told the infant.