Finally getting to the goods. ;)

Hope you enjoy reading it almost as much as I did writing it.

*fans self*

Marshall stumbled back, arms full of woman. Those slender, shapely legs caught him at the waist, wrapped around. A hot, avid mouth, lush and pillow-soft, latched on to his and devoured with frenzied, bone sizzling proficiency.

Propped with the wall at his back, Marshall struggled to regain his head as her fingers shot into his hair, tugging and anchoring him in place as she sank deeper. That wicked, wicked tongue of hers giving him all sorts of devious and wonderful ideas.

Jesus Christ the woman had a killer mouth. Her taste was potent, sweet and intoxicating. He wanted to steep himself in it for hours, taking-giving, hell sinking into arduous oblivion. And when she rolled against him, the core of her pressing where he wanted her most, Marshall would swear the world tilted from under his feet.

His hands streaked over her, struggling to find those lean, firm curves and angles hidden beneath all those frustrating layers of soaked, horrible clothes.

"God dammit," the oath was punctuated between lips. He spun them around, changing the dynamic so that she was the one now pinned, freeing his arms so he could properly dispose of clothing.

"Wait," he said, catching himself. Drawing back. "Son of a-dammit, Eva I'm a sweaty mess."

She unwound her legs from his waist, sank to the floor, amber eyes turned to deep, dark pools of female heat. Eva stripped off her shirt, dropped it on the floor, leaving her naked to the waist. Revealing a spectacular pair of breasts he hadn't expected.

High and firm. A lush and sexy handful with taught, caramel hued nipples.

Juicy was the word that came to mind. Definitely juicy. Begging for a man's lips. tongue...Dragging a hand over his mouth, he sank his teeth into the flesh above a knuckle. God the things he wanted to do to her body. And there was a whole other half to uncover.

"That's alright," she said, looping a finger in his belt tugging him forward. "I could use a shower. After."

There was a snap, audible as thunder, and Marshall lunged, catching her around the waist and tossing her tiny, slim body over his left shoulder in a firefighter's hold.

Thank God the place was small, otherwise after a come-and-get-me line like the six feet to the bedroom required about all the patience he had left. Booting the door shut behind him, he tossed Eva to the bed before fighting with his pants.

"Don't," he added, when Eva brought her hands to unfasten her own, his eyes flashing with dangerous intent. "I've got this."

She watched him as he peeled and shed layers, unashamed with both interest and bold appreciation.

He was perfection. All hard, chiselled muscle--from the caps of his shoulders to the hard, locking plates of his abs where she imagined running her tongue along the hollowed grooves. As he stepped out of his sweats and approached the bed, corded thighs bulging, the look on his face made Eva's mouth water. All heat and focused intent. Her gaze dipped lower to the hardened length straining between his legs and the core of her clenched with anticipation.

Suddenly nothing else mattered then slipping that perfectly honed steel deep inside where she was so empty and needy and had gone untouched for so long.

Climbing on to the bed, Marshall's hands slid over her waist, tugging and pulling, freeing skin to the heat of his mouth until finally she was naked, gloriously naked. All soft skin and firm curves. Scrapping his teeth over the delicate shape of her hip, he savoured the delicious tremor his exploration evoked.

Tasting and teasing the flat plane of her belly, the sweet inner flesh of her thighs as his fingers explored the warm, wet heat in between. Stroking, probing until she was blind with impatience. Panting his name. He wanted her crazed. He wanted her desperate. At the limits of his own sanity, he wanted her ruined.

And while his fingers pushed her closer to that thrilling, wild precipice, he sucked the firm, lush mound of her breast and drew the hardened bead of her nipple into his mouth. Rolled it along his tongue, caught it between his teeth. Hips bucking against his hand, Eva's fingers shot into his hair, dragging his mouth harder against her as she whimpered and moaned. A wonderful chorus of pleasure as she came with a violence that had triumph surging inside him, stoking his own desires past bearing.

Dazzled, blind, Eva roped his mouth up to hers.

"Wait--let me--" Punctuated between blood-racing kisses, Marshall reached across and fumbled through the nightstand drawer in search of the stash was never without.

A particularly painful learning curve involving a stunning Vietnamese beauty had taught Marshall the hard--hah!--way: opportunity knocks loudest when least expected, and you either came prepared or risked missing something truly extraordinary.

That was a blow-to-the-nuts kind of mistake a man only made once.

"Hurry." Raking impatient nails down his back, she caught his lip between her teeth and arched hotly against him. "Hurry, hurry, hurry."

Aching, oh God, every inch of her was aching. Burning. A few curses between adjustments and finally--finally--the cumbersome inconvenience of slipping on the condom was over.

With the stunning length of his body splayed above her, legs hooked around his waist, she felt him bob against her, the heat of him running along her seam. Searching. And, with jaw grim and eyes focused, found her softest, wettest spot and plunged.

Tossing back her head, Eva cried out at the sudden snap of pain from the invasion, but it was quickly swallowed up in the rush of a thousand tingling nerves that clenched and squeezed and begged for more.

The first initial thrust almost killed him. God, he'd known she was tight the moment his fingers had slipped inside her but this was almost too much. Her cry had startled him enough to still. And he looked down at her, his eyes searching for any indication he'd hurt her.

Slow it down, a voice within Marshall cautioned. Easy. Don't rush. Hard to manage when every breath and fiber of his being screamed now.

He held there a minute, his entire body vibrating with the strained effort of rapidly fraying patience as he gave her precious seconds to allow her body to stretch and soften and give, adjusting to the solid fit of him inside her. And when Eva wiggled beneath him, Marshall's laugh tore out with a groan.

"Keep it up and this won't last long."

"Take me." She lifted her mouth to his, tongue skimming over his lips in a teasing stroke.

That was all the prompting he needed.

He slid into her with a moan, filling and taking with solid, firm strokes. Arms around him, Eva fused her mouth to his, drinking in every groan and sigh, their tongues tangling as their bodies rose and fell together, locked in a sensuous dance that sped beyond the boundaries of control.

Spurred on by the slap of wet flesh and strangled moans, Marshall set his teeth at her throat, where her pulse hammered and leapt.

There, oh God, there! The pressure swam in her belly, coiled between her legs. Drawing tighter, tighter.

"Yes," she panted, fingers digging into the capped muscles of his ass flexing with each savage thrust. A sound tore from his throat, primal and fierce and sexy as hell as that wonderful body of his drove faster. Deeper. Harder. And she welcomed it. Welcomed that wild, animalistic passion. Matched that primal fury with her own.

That pressure exploded, a violent maelstrom of sensory chaos that shocked them both. The liquid current of those shockwaves blazed through him, straight to the bone, and sucked him in. Destroying him completely.

Boneless, Marshall sagged to his side, rolled on to his back. And grinned like an idiot. Heart beating so fast, so heavy, it damn near shook the whole bed. Curling up next to him, Eva settled in the crook of his arm, leg draped over his waist. Stroking a hand down her length, he set his lips to her temple, her cheek.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breath fanning across her throat. Eva sighed against him. Nodded.

God...years. Years since she had felt this. Experienced this. To be stretched full, to have the weight and heat of a man on her, over her--in her. Even then, everything before this moment, before him, was shattered into nothing.

And they barely even got started yet.

Feeling a bit wicked, refreshed from a kick of reserve energy, she sank her teeth into his shoulder--his good shoulder, and laved the spot with her tongue. Savouring the salty taste of him. And smiled at his throaty groan. Against her thigh, his semi-hard length bucked to renewed purpose.

"Don't start what you can't finish," he warned. Eyes glinting.

Rising to the challenge, Eva mounted him, set her hands to his chest, lips curved in a catlike grin, guiding his hands to her hips. "Have you ever known me not to?" Bending over him, she scraped her teeth over his jaw. "I hope your showers big enough for two."

It wasn't, but they'd managed just fine. And what had started in the shower had finished in the bed. Twice. Now Marshall was spent. Ruined. And happy to meet his maker a satisfied man.

God he'd had crazy, brilliant lovers in his time. The trade perks of being a well-travelled man, but nothing that matched Eva's spirit and focused hunger. The woman was near insatiable, as far as he could tell. And though he'd gauged a degree of inexperience, she was quick study and eager to please.

A breath away from dead to the world, Marshall felt Eva's warm, naked length slither over him, around him.

"I admire a woman with enthusiasm," he grumbled into his pillow. "But another round tonight might kill me."

At her answering snicker, he lifted his head and took a moment to enjoy the view of a toned bum slipping into a pair of loose jeans. But a gradual return of understanding tempered his own amusement.

"Why do you have to do that?"

"Hm?"

"Ruin a perfectly good evening by running off afterwards? Is this where you tell me that because you're damaged and moody you can't deviate from character by spending the night?"

"No, smart ass," she said, retrieving her tank from the hall to pull over her head. Leaning across the bed, to brush her lips across his, followed with a nip of teeth. "I'm a single mother with three young, impressionable girls, a nanny to send home, and special breakfast duty in five hours."

The mention of food intrigued him for more than just her body. "Special breakfast duty?"

"It's a kind of thing we have every Sunday, and I go through rotations, letting the girls have their pick of whatever they want. Tomorrow's Lucy's choice: blueberry waffles, lots of bacon and fresh OJ."

"Kid after my own heart," he said, smiling through a stretch. "What time should I be there?" He'd meant it more as a joke, but even in the dim darkness, there was no mistaking the clouding of her eyes. So, they'd crossed a boundary, but the line only stretched so far.

"I don't bring men home. Don't take this the wrong way," Eva tossed over her shoulder, stepping into the bathroom, leaving the door partially ajar as she washed her hands.

Sitting up, Marshall swung his feet to the floor, and brushed against something. Reaching down he plucked up the mystery object, and discovered it was a small, dark brown leather wallet. Eva's wallet.

A shock of curiosity rippled through him. A journalist's curse and an impulse he'd never acquired the strength to ignore. Opening it, he searched inside. Found eighty dollars in cash, a local Haven debit card, a couple receipts--from coffee shops and lunch spots over the course of the week, and not much else.

He knew she'd caught him long before his eyes lifted to find her standing in the bathroom door way.

"You dropped this," he said, handing it over to her. "Didn't see a driver's license." Or identification of any kind..."Could be under the bed."

"I don't carry it with me unless I'm driving," Eva answered, slipping it into her back pocket. "Easier to travel light. Otherwise I'd probably forget it somewhere. I'm pretty forgetful."

He smiled through a nod, though his instincts didn't buy the weak excuse. Eva was many things, forgetful? Certainly not one of them.

Drawing to her toes, she laced her arms around his shoulders and sank into a kiss before taking off. He watched her go from the porch, and held there long after she was gone from sight, wondering what more a guy had to do to break through Eva's Kevlar.

#

The morning dawned and Eva rose with it, facing the day on only four hours of solid sleep and feeling incredible, despite. Her body ached in the most delicious ways, her muscles loose and wonderfully lax in ways yoga had never managed to achieve.

Excited to see her, the puppies scampered around her in frantic circles, desperate to be let out for their morning frolic. She set them loose in the yard, propping the back door open just enough so they could come back in when ready.

The training had begun to bear fruit, she thought, discovering no surprise puddles to clean up. Always the early bird, Lucy found her in the kitchen, blue eyes bright with glee. Of her girls, she loved to cook the most. Already dressed, apron on, she shoved her wooden stool over by the counter so she could join in the task of preparing the pancakes.

"Stir this carefully," Eva instructed, pouring in the two cups of milk. At the sound of the doorbell, she brushed a kiss over Lucy's head, her little tongue peeking out as she stirred with careful concentration. "Be right back."

Wondering who would be at her door so early on a Sunday, she opened the door and her smile fell into a stunned scowl.

Eva narrowed the door, eased a foot over the threshold. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I come bearing gifts." Marshall gave the bags he carried a wave. Beyond the door the puppies scampered and raced wildly, Skittles shoved a wet nose between her legs but was soon distracted by his more rambunctious siblings.

"I thought I made myself clear last night?" Eva kept her voice hushed, praying that she somehow managed to boot him off her front steps before attention was drawn her way.

But the fates above seemed to conspire against her when the sound of tiny feet echoed up the hall.

"Momma, who's there?"

A small hand curled on the door, pulling it open and a tiny figure slid next to her mother. Lucy was draped in an oversized apron, dark hair in a sloppy knot atop her round face.

She sized him up, little fingers twirling a batter-covered spatula.

"Baby, this is momma's friend, Marshall," Eva said, handling the introductions. "He's Miss Davies son."

"That's right," Marshall added. "You must be Lucy."

"Yes. That's me." Massive blue eyes dominated, coupled with an impish smile that stole Marshall's heart in half a second flat. She looked every inch the adorable little Gummy Bear her mother had nicknamed her for, batting long, dark lashes. "D'you like pancakes?"

"Do I?" Marshall lowered to his haunches and brushed a knuckle across the curve of a fat cheek where a smear of pancake goop was drying. "Absolutely."

"Good." Lucy gave the spatula another twirl. "I'm too little to cook 'em, but momma lets me stir."

"Baby," Eva struggled to keep the snarl from her voice but was sure to let the heat of it flash in her eyes, bright as highbeams, which she blasted his way, "it's sweet of you to offer, but we really can't-"

Blue eyes launched up to her mother's with a look that rivalled the one Eva had just levelled at Marshall. "Momma, it's my special breakfast. You said I could have whatever I wanna."

"I--"

Lucy set her jaw, thrusting a pink bottom lip forward. Caught in a trap of her own making, Eva widened the door.

"Come!" Snagging his hand, Lucy tugged Marshall to his feet, scampering towards the back kitchen with a giggle.