She put up her hand in a stop gesture. “Fine. Enough. I have what I need. Just e-mail me a list of the exercises he’ll be doing. I’ll program the rest.”

He rested his legs against the sofa. Kept his hands behind his head and stretched out. “What’s the matter, Russo?”

“Not a thing,” she said, voice heavy with sarcasm, and bent to take one last look into the open hinge. Wes reached out and grabbed her bicep so fast, she started at his touch. By the time she’d enacted some resistance to his tug, it was way too late. Wes dragged her on top of him.

“Wes.” Rubi dug her knees into the sofa, straddling his hips, and pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push off him, but Wes was too strong.

“Relax. Stretch out. It’s been forty-eight long-ass hours since I felt that beautiful body against mine. Besides, my head is killing me. I’m in no condition to maul you.” All the humor had disappeared from his eyes. They were smoky gray and sensual, serious. “But a kiss would make me feel so much better.” He eased her closer. “Just…one…kiss…”

Rubi’s mouth hovered within a breath of Wes’s, his steel-blue eyes looking deep into hers. “This is really what you came over for,” she said, “isn’t it?”

“Actually no.” He lifted a strand of hair off her forehead, then let his finger slide over her cheekbone, down her jaw. “I came over to pick that amazing brain of yours, but baby, I think I’ve just run out of strength to resist you.”

A warm spot opened in her chest, and with it, a flutter of panic. She was thrown into that impossible catch-22 again—wanting him, yet terrified of him.

And instead of continued coaxing, he simply lifted to meet her. His lips closed over hers in a possessive but gentle, kiss. And when his lips moved against hers, she couldn’t fight the sensual feel of them. Or the craving that exploded at the feel of his tongue teasing her lips open. For a moment, Rubi forgot why she couldn’t enjoy him. Forgot all about their differences, their challenges, all the reasons she needed to push him away. And her lips parted.

His tongue slid into mouth like it belonged there, and he sighed into her mouth. An unfamiliar sensation washed through her body, one that softened her muscles and eased her mind. She released the lock on her elbows, sinking into the kiss. He had a beautiful mouth. A sensual way with that tongue. His hands came up and framed her face instead of feeling her up. He held her there while he lightened the kiss, pulling his mouth from hers to sip at each lip, then trail kisses over her jaw and behind her ear.

Tingles spread across her skin, and Rubi shivered. She shivered. She never shivered.

“Wes.” She sounded breathless and dazed, because, well, she was. The panic had softened, overtaken by the soft intimacy between them.

“Hmm…” he murmured as his lips started down her neck.

His teeth skimmed gently over her collarbone, and a sound ebbed from her throat, half sigh, half moan. Her sex ached, and she had to force herself not to lower her hips and press herself against the erection she knew was rock hard and waiting.

One hand moved down her back. She waited for him to grab her ass—that would be what she needed to wake up. To do what she knew she needed to do. But his hand shaped and molded her waist, her hips, back up to her ribs, floated down her spine. Never going for the take. He turned his head and planted soft kisses to the opposite collarbone. Rubi forced her eyes open. She was dizzy with lust. With affection. That warm space inside her continued to grow, and with it, an intangible sense of dread.

She needed to stop. He needed to stop. They needed to stop. Before this went somewhere it shouldn’t and their friendship fell apart.

“Wes,” she said again, searching for the strength in her arms to push back. “What do you want from me? I need to know. Are we going to just fuck and be done, or are we going to stay best fr—”

He tipped his head back and kissed her mouth again. Hungrier this time. Fierce. Possessive. Despite the shot of need traveling down her spine, Rubi pushed back.

Wes’s eyes eased open, heavy-lidded, and he gazed up at her through his light lashes. “It doesn’t have to be either-or, baby. We can have both.”

Rubi stared down at him a long moment while her mind struggled. “You can have both,” she said. “I can’t.”

“You’re wrong.” A familiar steely determination settled into his gaze. “You’re damn wrong, Rubi. You know it, and that scares the shit out of you.”

Damn right she was scared. She couldn’t think when he was close. He had a way of getting under her skin and making her believe. Making her hope. And belief and hope had always ended in pain.

Rubi needed to break this damn spell he cast over her every time they were close.

She called in reinforcements. “Rodie,” she said, still looking at Wes. “Kiss, kiss.”

Rodie, who’d been lying beside the sofa, jumped to his feet, tail swinging, and planted his paws on the cushion. He went for Wes first—probably because Rubi was usually lying in that position when she set her computer aside and asked Rodie for kisses. His tongue rolled out and stroked Wes’s cheek, his nose, his lips.

“Oh shit.” Wes turned his head away, wiping his mouth with a grimace and laughing a groan as he released Rubi to fend off Rodie. “No. Down, Rodie. Stop!”

As soon as Rubi climbed off Wes, Rodie jumped up, and Wes’s laugh rolled from his chest as he tried to hold the seventy-pound dog away from his lower body.

With his arms wrapped around Rodie, and Rodie still licking his face in thrilled frenzy, he pinned Rubi with a hot gaze. “You coward, using your dog like that. You should be ashamed.”

She pushed the hair that had fallen from her ponytail off her face. “I like to think of it as smart, not cowardly.”

“Pffft. Whatever.” Wes pulled at the Velcro to take the rig off, while her gaze scanned that luscious body and she imagined him wrapped around her.

“Hey.” His exclamation pulled her gaze up. He reached over and picked up the spoon off the ice cream carton’s lid. “That’s why you taste like chocolate. And eating straight from the carton, weren’t you? Just admit it, Russo.”

“So what?”

“So did you at least save some for me?”

She waved toward the kitchen. “Go ahead, take the rest home. You’ll be saving me from myself.”

He grinned, the sparkle back in his eyes. “If I can’t have you, ice cream is the next best thing.”

He jumped off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Rubi shaking her head and smiling more than she had in months. She really had to get rid of him before she, he, they did what they both really wanted.

“I should have known you’d have some froufrou shit,” he said from the kitchen around a mouthful. “Still, ice cream is ice cream, right?”

She rubbed both hands over her face before the comment registered, and she swung around on a gasp. “Wes, wait—”

She ran into the kitchen, took one look at Wes, and put her hand over her mouth. He had his back against the closed subzero stainless steel, a carton in one hand, a spoon in the other. He glanced up as she came in, licking the spoon, then dipping into the carton and pulling another pink mound from the container.

Rubi burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she doubled over, using the counter to hold herself up. She laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe when he wanted to know what the hell was so fucking funny. She laughed so hard tears streamed down her face.

Wes chuckled at her with a perplexed look as he brought the spoon to his mouth again.

Rubi lunged, her hand reaching for him, laughing, “No!” She couldn’t reach him across the wide island, but his hand froze on the way to his mouth. “Stop,” she said breathless. “Don’t eat…any more…”

And she collapsed on the counter in hysterics. And because she still couldn’t speak, made her way around the island to turn the carton in his hand so he could read the label.

“Doggie…what?” Wes slammed the carton on the counter with a, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” and turned to the sink.

With the tap running, he shoveled handfuls of water into his mouth and spit it out. He was grinning, a disgusted, ironic grin that was impossibly adorable and stretched Rubi’s heart so wide it hurt. By the time he hit the water controls to turn them off, Rubi was panting, leaning against the refrigerator, arms crossed over her belly. She couldn’t speak past burning abdomen muscles.

“Dog ice cream?” Wes braced a forearm on the counter, one on the handle of the faucet. “I didn’t even know such a thing existed.”

“Lactose makes…dogs sick, and Rodie…loves…ice cream.” Her answer made him shoot her a you’re-going-to-pay-for-that look. She held up a hand and started laughing again. “You’re the one…who didn’t read…”

He spun toward her with hot eyes that burned through her body. With a hand planted against the fridge near her shoulder, he pulled the freezer door open and grabbed the other carton of ice cream. He read the front, closed the door, and wrapped an arm around Rubi’s waist, sliding her body free of the refrigerator door and trapping her against him. He yanked the other door open with the same hand holding the chocolate carton.

“I knew it.” He pulled something from the door, then slammed it closed. “You were seriously holding out on me.”

“What?”

He lifted his hand, holding both the uncapped ice cream carton and a can of whipped cream.

She grabbed for the can. “Hey, that’s for my coffee.”

“It’s for my ice cream now. You owe me.”

“I don’t owe you. You’re the one that ate the dog—”

He leaned in and kissed her. She made a surprised sound in her throat. His mouth was hard, his lips plush. He pushed his tongue deep, and as soon as it touched hers, Rubi went limp. This wasn’t the sweet, slow kiss in the living room. This was forceful, breathless, toe-tingling.

He lifted her by the waist and set her ass on the cool granite countertop. Rubi gasped and grabbed his shoulders as the force of the kiss pushed her backward.

The pop of a top sounded, and he broke the kiss. Keeping a tight hold on her waist, he leaned away, tipped his head back, and sprayed whipped cream into his open mouth until it overflowed.

“Don’t. That’s mine.” She grabbed for the can, but he pulled it away. “I can’t drink my coffee—”

He grinned. The whipped cream expanded in his mouth, drifting through his teeth, covering his lips and dripping down his chin.

Rubi burst out laughing again. Her stomach muscles burned, and she sagged against him. “You look…like you’re…foaming at the mouth.”

She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath. The aerosol squirt sounded again. Cold streaked down her neck, and Rubi jumped. Wes pulled her thighs apart and hauled her to the edge of the counter to meet his hips, then followed the trail of whipped cream with his mouth.