Steve felt Sabrina freeze against him and sanity slowly returned. What the hell was he doing? Kissing her while she was sleeping was one thing, but kissing her while they were both awake and aware...What the hell was he doing? The obvious answer was—kissing her. The real question was why. Another easy answer—because he wanted to. The biggest question—how will he get out of it with his pride intact and his true feelings hidden? Because she wasn’t responding and he sure as hell didn’t want to see her face when he moved away. It would probably be filled with pity—pity for the poor, love-struck fool that he was.

Steve was about to move away and make a quick escape, when she circled his neck with her arms, tunneled her fingers into his hair, and plastered herself fully against him. Her lips parted on a sigh and he slipped the tip of his tongue just past them, a tiny taste. She growled impatiently, and he smiled against her lips. One hand supporting her head, the other curved snugly around her waist, he slid his tongue into her mouth, ran it along her teeth, brushed the roof of her mouth, twined it with hers in a sultry dance.

Reena saw stars as her tongue mated with his. After five years she was once again in Steve McGarrett’s arms, molded to his muscular body, letting him kiss her...And what the hell was she doing? She should stop this insanity. She couldn’t let him get any closer—though, to be honest, any closer and he’d be wearing her skin. She couldn’t let this go any further. She should stop him. She would stop him. Any minute now.

Then she felt the ridge of his erection against her stomach, and she melted. Literally. If it weren’t for his strong arm around her waist, she would’ve ended up in a puddle on the floor.

She moaned, gathered the strength back into her legs, flexed her muscles, and, mouth firmly fused to his, jumped, locked her legs around his waist, tightened her grip around his neck, and simply went with the flow...

Steve felt his toes curl as she coiled herself around him. Damn, he’d forgotten just how hot she could make him. Impatient to get more of her, he moved his hand down her back, palmed her sweet butt, and rubbed her against his erection.

He growled as she moaned. He pulled his tongue back into his mouth and she followed it. He placed a knee onto her couch and her thighs tightened around his hips. He lay her down and she arched her back in invitation, her tight nipples rubbing against his chest through both their shirts.

Lying on top of her, he ran his hand down her thigh, to the curve of her knee then back up, pushed the hem of the T-shirt up as he went, fingering the seam of her panties. He released her mouth, brushed his lips under the edge of her jaw, and licked a path to her ear.

Reena shuddered as she felt his teeth close gently around her earlobe. She went wild as he licked the soft spot just under her ear. He was doing everything right. Even after five years, he could play her like an instrument. When his finger dipped under the elastic band of her panties, every single thought evaporated.

She couldn’t send him packing now if her life depended on it.

She ran her hands down his muscular back and pulled the hem of his polo shirt out of his cargos. She needed to feel his skin under her arms, she needed to brush her fingers over it, she needed to taste it.

Steve reared back, yanked the shirt off over his head and took a moment to look down at her. Her face was flushed, her eyes languid with passion, her lips slightly swollen, her cheeks reddened from his stubble. He’s never seen a more beautiful woman. She smiled up at him in invitation, and he mirrored it with his own.

That T-shirt had always looked better on her, he mused as he circled her cotton-encased left nipple with his finger. She moaned, arched her back in invitation, and he cupped both her breasts through the thin material.

Then, with a hiss, she lifted her upper body off the couch and ran her tongue up the valley between his pectorals, and he decided he was done playing. He grasped her head between his palms, captured her mouth and pushed her down onto the sofa again.

Time seemed to slow down between sighs and moans, kisses and nibbles, soft touches and heavy caresses...

Sabrina’s entire body was vibrating. His mouth was buried against her neck, and he was cupping her naked breasts under her T-shirt, while she rode his knee, fumbling with his zipper.

Someone was screaming inside her head, telling her she should not be doing this, and there was a strange ringing in her ears, but she couldn’t give a crap. She was lying on her couch, in the middle of a heavy make-out session—that was about to turn into something much wilder, much hotter—with Steve McGarrett, the man she loved more than life itself, and she wasn’t about to stop. She probably couldn’t stop even if that Yakuza what-was-his-name suddenly barged through her door.

Only it wasn’t Wo Fat that came barging through her door. It was Marcus Hawthorne.

“Didn’t you hear the bell?” he asked, still having to look up from the grocery bags. “Your door was unlocked, did you—Oh.”

There were some things in life a man shouldn’t see. Catching his sister lying under a half-naked man, his hands under her shirt, her hands on his crotch, was one of those things. It trumped all others at the moment, at least as far as Marcus Hawthorne was concerned.

He quickly averted his eyes, wishing he’d lingered at the supermarket a little longer. But then, God only knew what he would’ve walked in on.

“Uhm...I’ll just...Put these in the kitchen.”

Steve was on his feet in a heartbeat. His shirt was back on and his pants fastened in record time, while he mentally kicked himself, refusing to meet her eyes. When he had himself sufficiently under control, her looked up from the pattern on her rug. Her eyes were carefully blank, no sign of passion on her face.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, angry at himself for kissing her, for feeling all these stupid emotions, pissed off at her for simply sitting there, looking at him like nothing’s happened. “I can’t believe you.”

She was so busy screaming at herself in her mind, Reena almost missed his last words. When they finally registered, he’s already slammed her front door behind him.

Marc poked his head out of the kitchen. “I’m so sorry, Reen, I—”

She lifted a finger to shut him up. “Be right back,” she rasped, and stalked after Steve.

She caught him at the curb and grabbed his arm. “Where do you get off?” she snarled hoarsely. “You can’t believe me? It wasn’t me, that started it, buddy.”

Anger churning in his stomach, he glared at her. “No, it was me, but you were there, with me.”

“Heat of the moment.” It was such a load of crap.

Steve scoffed. “And giving Hawthorne a taste of his own medicine had nothing to do with it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The guy’s a cheater, Sabrina!” he snarled.

“I repeat, what are you talking about?”

He sighed. Did she really not know or was she just playing dumb? “He was seeing my sister a few months back. She broke it off when she saw you two together.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you can say?” He shook his head. “You’re not stupid and you’re not blind. You must’ve known. How can you stay with him?”

“You’re the one to talk. What about your girlfriend, huh? What about Catherine?”

“We’re talking about you and Hawthorne. Tell me, is he the reason you broke it off five years ago?”

“It’s not what you think,” she whispered. She was tired of accusations, she was tired of lying, but she couldn’t tell the truth.

A growl of thunder from above caught his attention and Steve looked up into the dark sky, where the stars hid behind low-hanging clouds. He felt like there was a vise around his heart, but he had to ask. “Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

When she wanted, she could make her eyes go completely blank, hiding whatever was going on inside her mind, but this time her eyes weren’t blank. And he knew she was telling the truth.

“More than you loved me?”

She closed her eyes. “It’s different.”

And Steve felt something inside him die. The same thing that had died five years ago, but had somehow been brought to life by her reappearance. He felt it die. “No, I don’t think it’s different,” he said coldly. “I think it’s the same. Only it isn’t love. Not with you. You don’t even know what love is.”

With one last icy look, he turned, walked to his truck, and sped away, just as the sky opened up, leaving her standing in her driveway, the rain mixing with her tears.