Smitten by Janet Evanovich

self-control is reaching an all-time low.”
    â€œMmmmm,” Lizabeth said, smiling, feeling outrageously bold. She wore no underwear, and the borrowed sweats were soft against her skin. Sexy, she thought. Just right for sprawling on Matt’s bed.
    She realized she wanted to make love with him and acknowledged that she’d come a long way in a very short time. She wasn’t nervous, or embarrassed, or afraid. She watched Matt crawl across the bed to her, and she willed herself to relax. She knew things would be different with Matt. He knew when to give and when to take, and he honestly enjoyed both.
    He kissed her tenderly, fully intending to be a slow, sensitive lover. The kiss deepened. Too fast, he thought, but he couldn’t stop. He had to see her. All of her. He had to taste all of her. Clothes were stripped away, and he kissed her again. Lower this time. Lord, how he wanted her. And he needed Lizabeth to want him . He whispered her name, and his hands moved over her silky skin, arousing and enflaming her mind and her body. He covered her privateplaces with kisses. He brought her to the top, to the peak of ultimate pleasures…then he followed.
    Afterward he held her close, afraid to move from her, afraid he’d been all muscle and blind passion and no brain.
    Her first thought, when she was finally capable of thought, was that she no longer gave a damn about being a fairy. She’d just been to the top, and anything else, fairy wings included, would be cold potatoes. Her second thought was that she loved Matt Hallahan beyond reason. She loved him when he was gentle and when he was fierce, and she loved him most of all when he was naked. He was magnificent when he was naked.
    Matt buried his face in her hair. “Liz, I think I got carried away…”
    â€œMmmmm,” Lizabeth said, her voice muffled as she snuggled closer.
    â€œWas it awful?”
    â€œAwful?” She pushed back enough to look at him. “Awful?” She saw he was serious, and his fear prompted a smile.
    It was the most radiant smile ever. Filled with love and pride and supreme satisfaction. It was the smile he’d promised himself the firsttime he saw her. “Hmmm,” he said. “So I guess it wasn’t awful.”
    Her smile grew sly. “It was passable,” she said.
    â€œYou think it could get better if we practiced?”
    Lizabeth didn’t think she could live through it if it got any better. “Probably it would take a lot of practice,” she said, letting a fingertip wander lower, provoking a sharp intake of breath.
    Almost an hour later, Lizabeth barely had the energy to dress herself in her dried clothes. She took Matt’s hand, feeling unbelievably relaxed and foolishly euphoric, and followed him down the stairs.
    When they reached the bottom, Matt cast a sidelong glance at his Harley. “You like motorcycles?” he asked Lizabeth.
    She didn’t want to be insulting, but she liked motorcycles almost as much as she liked tattoos, fat black cigars, and poisonous spiders. “I don’t know very much about motorcycles,” she said.
    He dragged her into the living room. “This is a Harley. It’s a honey, isn’t it? It can do everything but bake brownies.”
    She struggled to find something nice to say about it. “It’s very…shiny.”
    â€œYeah. That’s because I keep her indoors. I used to do some dirt-bike racing when I was first out of the navy. After I broke my leg for the third time I decided to quit the circuit.”
    â€œIs this a dirt bike?”
    He grinned down at her. “No. A dirt bike is smaller. The tires are a lot narrower. This baby is a hog.”
    Lizabeth nodded. Obviously, if you were a motorcycle it was complimentary to be called a hog.
    â€œYou’re trying to be polite, but I can see you’re not into internal combustion,” Matt said. “Bet you’ve never even ridden on