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at him, but she was too turned on to manage it. Instead she made a striptease out of it, sliding the leotard off one shoulder, then another until both breasts crested the neckline. After all the teasing of the dance, her nipples greeted the open air with embarrassing exuberance.
    His eyes lit up, but she held up a hand to stop him. “No interfering with my process.”
    His Adam’s apple moved as he gave a hard swallow. “Hell no.”
    She inched the leotard down her body, lifting her hips to ease it off her butt. Nothing could be more satisfying than watching his eyes go more hot and feral the more naked she got. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He planted his hands on her upper thighs, where the leotard was bunched, and whisked it down her legs.
    â€œThat’s interfering!” she protested.
    â€œNo, it’s not. It’s stripping.” He stripped too, with dizzying speed. With a few quick movements, his shorts were off, his T-­shirt flung across the coffee table, and his spectacularly honed form stood naked before her. It was a good thing she was already sprawled on the couch, because the sight of Vader with no clothes on was enough to make any woman feel faint.
    All those acres of muscle contained within tight, browned skin, the ridges parading up his rib cage toward those mountainous shoulders, the massive thighs spread apart, and at the center of it all, an erotic punctuation mark, his emphatically thickened penis, so aroused it curved up, up, up toward his taut belly.
    She rested one foot on his thigh, her artistic eye appreciating the contrast of her paler skin against the bronze of his. He bent down, his erection bobbing against his stomach, and spread her hair out behind her. When he straightened up, he wore a different look, utterly absorbed in his cataloguing of her exposed parts. Under his inspection, she felt abandoned and dissolute, like a courtesan posing for her patron.
    Amused by the thought, playing the role to the hilt, she ran her foot up his thigh, into the bed of brown curls. When her big toe touched his penis, waggling against his hot flesh, his nostrils flared. He hooked his hands under her knees, spreading her legs apart and shifting her forward on the deep couch. She locked her legs around his hips, freeing up his hands.
    â€œYou’re teasing me, aren’t you?” He growled.
    Only because he’d teased her. But she was suddenly too breathless to say so.
    â€œYou know what the rules say. Don’t play with the animals in the zoo.” He took his shaft into one hand. She didn’t know where he’d gotten it, but he was maneuvering a condom onto his erection. When he was done, he ran his hands along her inner thighs, his thumbs tracing the tendons all the way to the throbbing heart of her craving.
    â€œStupid rule,” she gasped.
    â€œAnd what happens when you break the rules?”
    She struggled to form thoughts through the desire clouding her brain. “Go to jail?”
    â€œYup. Sex jail.” He gave a devilish laugh and spread her open with his fingers, easing the way for his cock. It felt so unbelievably good to have him back inside her, thick and probing, his heat parting her, penetrating her. A long, low sound came from her throat, like some kind of wild animal mating call.
    In answer, he thrust further, deeper, while his fingers played with her clit, rubbing and teasing, finding a rhythm that matched the flexing of his thighs. A rumble of primitive satisfaction rippled through his chest.
    â€œPlay with your nipples,” he urged in a thick voice.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYes. Do it.”
    â€œBut . . .”
    â€œI know. It’s okay. Just do it.” They were speaking in shorthand now, brief words laden with meaning. They both knew what happened when her nipples were touched when she was this close to the edge. She’d fly over like a bottle rocket. But right now, in this moment, he was the