Inside her apartment, Wyatt locked the door, engaged all deadbolts, and set up his tin can alarm system. Lauren put the takeout boxes in the fridge.

When she turned around, Wyatt was standing there. Just watching her. His eyes were dark, burning with something that made her breath catch.

"Wyatt—"

He crossed the distance between them in two strides, his hands gripping her waist, lifting her onto the kitchen counter. Lauren gasped as her jean-clad ass hit the granite, her legs spreading ...