Leaning a hip on the counter, he took a long drink of beer. He'd taken part in more pleasantries in the last week than the whole of his remembered life. Yet, the welcoming he'd hoped for eluded him. Her boyfriend made her attachment abundantly clear.

"Hey." The door swung shut behind her.

She crossed the kitchen, hoisting herself up to sit on the counter next to him in forced casualness. The leather slides she wore fell to the floor as she scooted further back on the counter. Her scent told him that she was nervous.

"I'm sorry."

He set down his beer, closing the distance between them. "What for?"

She unconsciously leaned into him. He watched as she tried to decide where to place her hand. It hovered, shakily next to his chest, then gravitating toward his face. Her eyes darted nervously from his eyes to his sideburns and back.

She hesitated, sliding her hand backward as if to run her fingers through his hair. A moment passed before she let out a slow breath, finally settling it on his shoulder.

"Bobby and I aren't even dating and he's been acting like the jealous boyfriend."

"Ain't your fault."

He barely listened as she began telling him about her relationship, or lack of, with Bobby. Instead he played with the fraying edge that circled the hole in the knee of her jeans. He was fascinated with the small patch of skin visible there.

Finally giving into temptation, he ran the flat of a finger nail across her pale skin. Feeling no draw he tried again, only slower. Satisfied with the results he ran ever widening circles until the material of her jeans prevented him from going further.

It was then that he noticed she had quit talking, quit breathing to be exact. He glanced up at her through the stray hairs that curled over his forehead. She was staring down at him with wide eyes, working her bottom lip between her teeth.

Flashing her a smug grin, he gently lifted the denim at her knee with his free hand. He proceeded to run his finger under the edge of the hole. Only looking back up at her sharp intake of breath as her hand convulsively tightening on his shoulder.

"Marie?"

If it weren't for his enhanced hearing, he probably wouldn't have heard her barely audible response. "I only kissed him once. It was so cold."

"And you want..." His voice sounded gruff and needy, even to his own ears. "...hot."

It was more of a statement that a question. She nodded in agreement.

Before he could stop to think, he positioned himself between her parted knees. Pushing them wider and pulling her toward him, he cradled his hips in hers. She clung to his body, running her hands down his back.

Her soft curves fit his body perfectly with her back pressed against the kitchen counter, legs wrapping around his hips. His large hands guiding her as he ground into her heat, evident through two layers of denim.

Her nails dug into his back, even with her gloves and his shirts, sending his blood racing. It pounded in his ears, almost drowning out her little gasps of pleasure.

His eyes wandered from her leather encased breasts, past her lush red lips, holding for a moment on her wide, innocent eyes before they fluttered closed.

The clatter of the beer bottle caught his attention as the contents spilled from the container, mixing with her chestnut and platinum locks, both flowing over the edge of the center island.

His name came as a breathy moan, drawing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. He hesitated, taking in the sweetness of her breath, wishing desperately for more privacy than the community kitchen provided.

His mouth moved down the line of her jaw, the milky skin of her throat, letting his breath caress her where his flesh could not. She arched her back off of the counter trying to bring her body into contact with as much of his as possible.

"What about Bobby?" He panted, watching small beads of sweat appear around the tag nestled in her cleavage.

She leaned back resting on her elbows. "I didn't think you liked to share?"

"I don't," he growled at her, sending shivers through her body.

He remained quiet a moment taking in the quick turn of his luck, and the rightness of the situation.

Releasing her, he stepped away, running a shaky hand through his hair. His body protested the loss of her warmth and he tried to ignore his own state of arousal brought on by her changed scent.

"We need to talk, darlin'...some place a little more private."

"We could go to my room," she stated innocently, letting her nylon covered feet swing back and forth.

"I don't think we'd get much discussed there."

Her smile turned flirtatious and she lifted a cautious foot to rub his denim covered erection. "We could go to your room."

"Marie." It was meant as a warning, but the growl came out sounding more like a rumbling purr than he intended.

Closing his eyes, he automatically leaned into her foot, letting her increase the pressure. His eyes snapped back open when someone moaned. Damn if he could tell who, but Marie was looking at him from under heavy lids, once again working over her bottom lip.

He grabbed her ankle, stilling her movements. "We won't be talking at all if we go to my room."

"I know, I'm tired of talking." An amused expression settled on her face and she ran a hand through her wet hair. "Besides I have a spilt beer to make up for."

He let out a short laugh. "I hear it's a good conditioner, among other things."

"I bet you know all kinds of uses, don't you sugar."

Wiggling her foot free of his grasp; she used it to hook his hip, drawing him back to her.

"I can think of a few interesting ones." He ran his hands up and down her thighs. "But first I think we need to get you cleaned up."

She plucked at her damp jacket, "I'll need to get out of these wet clothes."

He lifted her from the counter top, standing her up next to him. She slid back into her shoes, before walking toward the door. He stayed still, watching the sway of her hips as she crossed the distance.

She smiled back at him from the door. "I need to grab a few things from my room."

"You got ten minutes, darlin. Don't make me come and get you."

Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip. "Is that a promise?"

"If you don't quit wasting time, you'll find out."

Laughing, she ran down the hall to the stairs. He could hear her taking the steps two at a time while he quickly wiped up the beer. Suddenly he was glad that no one was there to see the stupid grin that spread across his face.

Finished cleaning, he reached into the frig, retrieving two bottles. He closed it and glanced at his watch, noting he had just enough time left to make it to his room before Marie arrived. Taking a second to think, he reopened the frig returning the two beers to their rightful place in the cardboard container.

He picked up the entire container, this might be thirsty work. Then again; he leaned in further, grabbing the second pack of six, there might be more spillage.