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sweaty hands. “The piece dictates the music, and today I’m working on one that’s a bit in-your-face. Linkin Park is perfect for that.”

He smiled as he drove his gaze over the richly variegated items littering the studio. “What? No glass unicorns?”

She smiled back as she whipped off her goggles and swiped her forehead with the rag. But instead of cleaning herself up as she intended, the action left behind a smudge of dirt that Cole found, for some reason, incredibly erotic. “Not since sixth grade, no,” she told him. “But I did recently complete a commissioned piece called ‘Leda and the Swan.’ Does that count?”

He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and took a few steps toward her. “I don’t know. Did it have a unicorn in it?”

She chuckled. “No,” she said with mock impatience. “My studio is a unicorn-free environment. Please extinguish your horn before entering.”

He could have said something then about how he hadn’t had a horn until he entered, but refrained. Instead, he lifted a hand to her forehead and touched his thumb to the smudge. But he didn’t wipe it off. He just followed the ragged line of it lightly, threading his fingers into the damp hair at her temple when he reached it.

Her eyes widened at the gesture, her pupils expanding until only a thin circle of blue surrounded them. But she neither did nor said anything to halt him. This close, Cole could smell her, the combining odors and aromas of physical labor, unbridled heat, and the inescapable patchouli that mixed and mingled into something almost narcotic.

“I told you I wouldn’t be ready for you until four,” she said.

“That’s why I’m here now,” he replied.

And before she had a chance to respond to that, he leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. She started to pull back, but he followed her, covering her shoulders with his hands as he deepened the kiss. Her skin was slick and hot from her perspiration, and the knowledge that she was already smoldering and damp—and that he had some catching up to do—increased his sense of urgency. She must have sensed it, because instead of pulling away this time, she kissed him back, her hands moving to the knot of his necktie and working feverishly to loosen it.

Cole’s last coherent thought was that it was just like last night, the velocity and totality with which he lost himself to her. The moment their bodies made contact, everything else ceased to exist. There was just heat and need and hunger and desire, all of which demanded satisfaction.

As Lulu pulled his tie from his collar and went to work on his shirt buttons, she took a few awkward steps forward, pushing Cole back. “The lights,” she mumbled against his mouth as she reached past him. “Too bright.”

She flicked a quartet of switches on the wall, something that took care of that problem, and they were thrown into semi-darkness lit only by the flickering flame of the blowtorch and the long afternoon sun that seeped through the windows overhead. It was enough for him to see what he wanted to see—Lulu’s face as he unhooked the other strap of her overalls, pushed the garment down over her hips, tugged her shirt over her head, and covered her naked breasts with both hands. Her fingers fumbled on his buttons as he gently kneaded both tender globes, her sweat-dampened skin making his hands slip easily over her flesh. He released her long enough for her to push his shirt off his shoulders and over his arms, then captured her again when she moved her hands to his belt.

The next thing he knew, she was on her knees before him, one hand curving over his taut, naked buttocks, the other moving on his hard cock. She palmed the head gently, then circled her thumb and index finger around his shaft, and slowly slid both down to its base. Then she pulled her hand back up again, and pushed it slowly downward once more. For a long moment, she teased him that way, then she curled her entire hand around his hard length. Instead of stroking him, though, she guided him to her mouth and pulled him deep inside.

Oh, Lulu…oh, man…

He tangled his fingers in her hair as she went down on him, laving him with her tongue, loving him with her lips, increasing the pressure of her mouth with every slow pull. He watched her head move backward and forward, got harder whenever he saw his cock disappear into her mouth and reappear again. She must have felt his knees giving way at the same time he did, because she pulled back and released him and rose, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the corner of the studio, where there lay a pile of discarded tarps.

When they’d both shed what was left of their clothing, instead of lying beside him, she straddled him with her back to him. Before he realized what she had planned, she was bending forward, lowering her head to take him in her mouth again, clearly wanting to finish what she had started.

Cole reached for her hips and silently urged her to lift them, pulling her back until her knees were on each side of his chest and her sex was open above him. As she sucked him deeper into her mouth, he lifted his head and pressed his own mouth to her damp flesh, kissing her, tonguing her, tasting her as deeply as he could. She halted her ministrations on him for a moment to let herself enjoy the sensations rocketing through her, and when she took him again, her tongue worked even more feverishly. That, in turn, doubled his attentions to her, and their passion ignited as they fed off each other.

When he felt himself nearing his breaking point, he tasted her deeply one final time, then cupped her waist with both hands and pulled her delectable ass back toward him, a silent

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