Picked her up and carried her, as if she were Scarlett O’Hara and he were Rhett Butler, if Rhett had been the kind of guy to go down on Scarlett in a doorway. Which, let’s be honest, he probably was. Katie was no petite southern belle, but he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. It was off-the-charts sexy. Sexy enough to make her knees wobble if she’d still been standing up, which she wasn’t, and if they hadn’t already been wobbly since the second he yanked her down between his legs and kissed the living daylights out of her. Which they had. Sean picked her up and carried her upstairs as though people actually did this kind of thing, and he laid her on a bed in a room she didn’t even begin to register the details of, because she couldn’t see anything but him. He took off his shirt and covered her with his body and kissed her again, and she could only say his name. Every time she remembered to inhale, she smelled his soap. His hips pinned her in place, his hands stroking over her, less insistent than before but still compelling her to respond.
