Chloe was battling with her buttons when he walked back into the room. She'd managed to kick off her slacks, which left her with her shirt half undone, and her panties. Oliver swallowed on dry. "Let me."

He sat sideways on the bed, facing her. She pouted like a child at the recalcitrant button. "You know, if we happen to have a little girl, and she looks like you, she'll have me wrap around her finger in no time."

He disengaged the culprit. The forest green lace covering her lured him in like a moth to the flame. His knuckles grazed the soft skin along the strap, then circled her breast to caress her stomach. Chloe shivered. Then she opened her arms in invitation. Unable to resist, Oliver leaned forward for a kiss. Chloe laid back as their mouths brushed and chased each other, taking him with her. The light kiss he intended when he touched his lips to hers deepened, languid ballet of tongues and hot skin.

Oliver abandoned her mouth for her jaw, her neck, the temptation of her breast. She reached for him when his hand ventured up her thigh.

His own clothing was growing terribly restrictive but getting undressed meant parting from her and the thought was unbearable. She took the choice from him and fisted his tee-shirt, tugging it up until it became an aggravating bundle between them. Oliver straightened up, yanked the annoyance over his head and returned to the savory exploration of her throat. One strap of her bra slid off her shoulder, then the other. Another caress and the garment eased away baring her chest to him.

Her breast was lush and soft. Her heart jumped like a scare rabbit under his tongue and ran. His raced after it like a hound on a trail. Oliver kissed the delicate flesh offered, relished the sudden tension in her abdomen as he continued his path lower.

He marveled at the heat nuzzling her stomach generated. So many wonders hid under the still flat surface. Life. Love. A piece of him meshed with her forever. Chloe's fingers threaded in his hair, calling him up. Oliver backtracked toward her mouth, tasting every inch of her in between. Chloe moaned under him when he kissed the hollow of her throat. Her scent and taste intoxicated him. She was so pure, his Chloe. Inexperienced in the art of love and curious. Aware of her power over him, and hesitant to use it until he pushed her too far. Shy and wanton all at once, when her body undulated under his and she fought the pleasure at the same time.

Oliver allowed her a moment to suck in air while he got rid of his jeans. He stole her breath again, plundering her mouth as his hands roamed over her. Her mouth was hot and wet, a velvet cavern he wanted to explore forever. But he had something else in mind so he let his lips venture again. He took her breast again, then nibbled at the curve of her hip, lower still at the creamy skin inside her thigh. Her fingers clutched to his shoulders in unease.

"Trust me…"

His mouth closed over her and her hips lurched forward at the delicious assault. God how he loved those moments, the helpless sounds she made when lust bested her and she mewled to urge him on. One of his hands explored the supple flesh of her leg as he guided her panties out of his way. She trembled under him, still uncertain. A part of him wanted to reassure her, to hold and to soothe. Another reveled in her torment. He wanted to hear her gasp, to hear her plea, to take her higher and then to hear her scream.

Oliver cajoled the tender skin of her inner thigh again. His own desire was a torture. Even the light fabric of his boxers applied too much pressure, the friction each time he moved hurtful. He ignored it and finally reached her bare center. Chloe arched in surprise and need. He found her hands, let her hold on to him for dear life as he tasted her at his leisure. She was sweet, hot and so wet he almost succumbed to the urge to ravage. Her nails dug in the back of his hands as he alternated licks and kisses lighter than a butterfly's wings. His name escaped her lips, a weak prayer to the god he wasn't. She was divine, his angel and his damnation in one succulent package.

Chloe moaned again, louder this time. Her chant continued to grow in volume while he made love to her with his mouth and tongue. Suddenly she released him to claw to the sheets. Her hips begged for more, for respite, for him. Her whimpers were a siren's song calling him to stop this and joined her in the maelstrom. He didn't resist.

Oliver divested of his boxers at the same time he moved back up to cover her with his body. Chloe welcomed his weight on her with a whimper. One leg hooked over his hip and he slid inside her finally. His heart threatened to explode. "You're everything I ever wanted…"

Her eyes flared open, the green around her pupils a thin circle of emerald flame, baring her soul to him. "O-Ollie… Oliver!"

Oliver took her mouth as he pulled away, thrust into her again. Chloe shook her head. "I… I can't… It's too much… Please…"

He stilled, searching her eyes, then resumed thrusting inside her when she whimpered in need. A lifetime would not suffice to show her how amazing she felt, how amazing she made him feel. Her hips accompanied his movements, slow and arousing, begging for more, taking and giving at the same time. With her, he was complete. Within her, he was home. Oliver caged her between his arms, one hand behind her head, the other on her hips to guide her movements. When he pressed deeper inside her, the words he was dying to share trickled from her mouth.

Oliver leaned in carefully to brush a kiss on Chloe's shoulder before he slipped out of bed. His legs and back protested, but if he stayed abed any longer, his restlessness was going to wake the adorable blonde currently curled on her side with her face hidden between their pillows.

He padded across the room, grabbing his sweats and a tee-shirt in the dark before he made his way to the terrace outside the living room. Oliver fought a shiver when his body adjusted to the witching hour temperature. California was warmer than Kansas, but December was still December, no matter where you were.

Hands on the rail, he peered at the emptiness below. Christmas in Kansas was one of the things that kept him awake, he mused. His current workload with QI was another. He'd always believed in teamwork and stayed as far as possible from micromanagement, but the more he delegated, the more it seems that people looked up to him for answers.

And then there was Byers… His gut was telling him the man was in over his head. His mind was telling him there were too many coincidences for the man to have clean hands. But why? He couldn't fathom why, and it bothered him. Why take the risk to get involve in a drug ring? Why get involve with the Bratva at all? Gordon Byers was far from stupid. If anything, the man was cunning. Money? The Byers weren't swimming in debts. His accounts were balanced, and he didn't hide an offshore egg nest.

Chloe had spent hours digging through every single piece of information Watchtower could find, and besides the typical tickets and Ivy alumni youth tricks, the man was as innocent as they came. There were no stories of addiction, no extramarital activities—at least on his side, no covered-up accidents, nothing. All they had to tie him to the drug ring was his signature on two ex-cons reinsertion forms, and instinct. Oliver rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder. Chloe had found nothing that an expert politician wouldn't be able to spin to his advantage. Being cuckhold and in favor of the second amendment and the NRA weren't crimes. So why did his name pop at every turn?

He inhaled the cold air slowly, filling his lungs to capacity before he released his breath. He'd told Chloe the truth earlier, when he'd said he looked forward having some down time with her. Since they'd met on that beach three months ago, they'd rushed from one high to another. She deserved more than a harassed boyfriend who staggered from his day job to his green-leather hobby without pausing to return those three little words she'd offered freely.

Chloe had given him her trust, her support, her love. He admired and adored her, he loved her with all his heart. He did his best to show her, a thousand different ways. But somehow, he was still unable to speak out the words.

Oliver was so lost in thought he didn't hear the pitapat behind him until two arms wrapped around his midsection and Chloe's body pressed against his back. "What's on your mind, Hero?"

Oliver covered her hands with his. "You, mostly. Why are you up?"

"Why are you? It's cold out here."

He reached out automatically, and spun her around until she was in his arms with her back to his chest, his chin on the top of her head. His nose caught the subtle fragrance of her shampoo. "You smell good…"

His thumb found the gentle swell of her hipbone while his hand splayed on her stomach more firmly. Chloe sagged against him with a content sigh. "Dial it down, Romeo, I don't think I can go another round…"

Her skin heated under his palm. He grinned into her hair. "At least you're not cold anymore…"

Chloe shook in laughter when he tickled her. "Oliver!"

He continued the featherlike dance along her sides until she squirmed out his embrace. Oliver offered his hand, but rather than stepped back into the circle of his arms, she tugged at it gently. "Come back to bed, Ollie…"

She rarely used the nickname. Oliver briefly wondered if she knew him so well already that she combined her sultry invitation with a dreamy smile on purpose. "Not the best way to encourage me to 'dial it down', Sidekick…"

Chloe blushed, but she kept pulling him toward the bedroom. "Lie down."

"Bossy."

Oliver obeyed as he laughed, just a little surprised when she gave him a decided push so he fell on his back. Rather than following through and straddling him like he half-hoped she would, Chloe climbed on her side of her bed. She lied on her side, her cheek resting on the pillow, head turned to him.

Oliver mirrored her position. The light burning on the side table gilded the contour of her shoulder and hip. "Did you think about us like this? When we met on the beach?"

Her lips quirked up. "Honestly? I remember thinking you looked good. And that I had to get as far away from you as possible."

Oliver chuckled. He reached behind her to shut down the light, wrapped his arm around her waist as he retreated so he could pull her close enough to peck her mouth. "You made that abundantly clear at the time. Hal laughed at me for days because of you."

"Someone has to take your ego down a peg or two from time to time…"

He pulled a face at her even though she could not see the grimace in the new darkness. Oliver rolled on his back, taking her with him so her head rested in the crook of his shoulder.

"I wanted to help and protect you, right from the start. After we met again, I spent hours on the rooftop of the building across yours. Even if I started my patrols elsewhere, I always ended in your area." Oliver brought their laced fingers to his lips for a kiss, before he placed them over his heart. "I guess a part of me knew already."

"Knew what?"

"That I was…am yours. That I—" Everything clicked into place.