Ranger, Stephanie, and any familiar events, belong to Janet. Any mistakes are mine. Warnings for a teeny bit of smut.

I stretched my arms up over my head and then glanced at the man lying beside me. Ranger always looks good, but I still squirm in a very good way when I get the opportunity to see him sleeping, mainly because he doesn't usually allow himself the luxury of a little rest. I slowly rolled over onto my side so I wouldn't disturb him as I looked my fill.

His almost black hair is falling over his forehead, making him appear totally relaxed ... not just his typically calm Ranger self. His lips are tempting even when he's not using them to drive me crazy, and the torso peeking out from the blanket is chiseled to perfection.

It's weird to think of someone like him loving me ... Stephanie Plum, Burg outcast and trouble magnet, but from day one, he saw something in me no one else ever has, not even myself. Because of him and through him, his company, and his men, I've become the woman I dreamed of being when I was seven-years-old. I'm now able to handle my mom, Vinnie, and any scum bag he throws at me, with nothing more than a single curse, and even that's more out of habit than necessity.

I've gotten to know Ella and the guys coming and going from the Rangeman building, all while learning how to take down, subdue, and haul in, someone exactly like them. After one really close call that involved my car being steered off a bridge with me handcuffed to the passenger seat, my life literally changed in the blink of an eye.

Ranger rescued me from certain death just like he had when I'd been tossed off a different bridge into the Delaware River. He gave me two choices while we were standing there in soaking wet clothes with me still shivering uncontrollably from residual fear and the cold. Choice number one was that I stay in his building for the rest of my life with no chance of parole. Option number two was to get serious fast about protecting something he doesn't want to consider living without.

It wasn't a dozen roses or a ring of the engagement or wedding kind, but I saw it for the romantic gesture it was. He loves me and he was scared to death I'd be killed if one of us didn't do something. I hit his gym the following morning and didn't stray far from Ranger's side much after that. We didn't have to call ourselves a couple, what we have is a bone-deep understanding between the two of us ... and I guess everyone who sees us together if the comments and wolf whistles are anything to go by.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked.

My bare skin broke out in goosebumps as the deep rumble of his voice crossed the bed to me.

"Who says I'm smiling? Your eyes are closed, you can't tell what I'm doing."

"You're radiating contentment, Babe."

"Yeah and whose fault is that?"

"Mine."

"Yep. I'm in such a good mood, I was just thinking I might even go for a run this morning."

Now he's smiling. "I'm betting there's now another two feet of snow on the ground to add to the one that was already there when I parked in your lot last night. You know you're not running anywhere."

For his benefit I gave a fake sigh of disappointment. "Okay ... so that wasn't really what was going through my mind. Maybe I was actually wondering if it's possible to stay here curled up next to you until all the snow is melted."

"If we would've stayed at my place like I suggested, you could've had access to the gym and everything on the floors between it and my apartment. You would've had more activity options."

"Why do you think I wanted us to sleep here? It's not because my bed is more comfortable, that's for sure," I said, rolling into him to relieve a cramp in my leg.

"Why did you insist on us sleeping at your place?" He asked, while his arm shot out to grab me when I would've moved back to my side of the bed.

"Here it's only the three of us ... you, me, and Rex. At Rangeman, there's a whole building full of people around the clock and nonstop business to deal with. If there was a chance we'd be completely snowed in, I wanted it to be somewhere quieter."

"So you can have your way with me with no chance of interruptions?"

"Yep. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No."

"Good."

"Now tell me what you were really smiling about," he told me.

"I was just thinking about how happy I am at the moment."

"Because of the weather canceling your work day."

I smiled into his skin. "That's only a teeny part of it. It's mostly you I'm happy about."

"I bet I can make you even happier than you are right now."

"Oh really?"

"You up to it?" He asked.

Before I could answer him, he threaded his fingers through my tangled curls and massaged my scalp briefly before lifting the body I'd been admiring earlier and turning me so I was the one lying flat on the mattress.

"Uh-huh ... I'm definitely up for whatever you have in mind," I said, looking up at him. "You're like Viagra for women. Even when I'm not consciously thinking about jumping you, you just glance at me and thirty seconds later I all but attack you."

I watched his lips tip up. "Attack away, Babe."

"But you're the one in the power position."

His grin has a slightly evil twist to it now. "You'd better hope you remember the moves Ram showed you to get someone off and away from you."

He lowered his head and covered my mouth with his. As soon as his tongue started to trace my lips, I was completely focused on the feel, taste, and scent of him. He kept kissing me until my arms came up around his neck.

He pulled back. "That wasn't what you were instructed to do," he said to me.

"I know exactly what I'm supposed to do to defend myself, but it just so happens that I'm not really interested in moving you off me."

I wiggled my hips against him to make him even harder before adjusting my legs so he could fit between them. We both inhaled sharply at the contact.

"In fact," I continued, when I could actually form a thought, "I'm thinking a full-body hold is more appropriate in this particular situation. That way I can keep you close to control your movements."

"You think so?" He asked, pressing kisses from the corner of my mouth then down the length of my throat.

He was about to lever himself up and away from me - probably to prove a point or just to gloat, since we both know no matter how good I am I still can't budge him unless he lets me. But I can fight dirty if I have to. I reached down in the space he'd created between us a second before I moved my hips upward, sliding him inside me. The fact that my body always seems ready for him never fails to turn him on. He knows that all he has to do is kiss me or touch my hair with obvious care and I want him with an embarrassing passion.

It would be frighteningly unfair if I don't affect him the same exact way. If I smile at something I'm proud to have accomplished, or if I brush my hand across his back as I walk in or am just about to leave a room, I feel the temperature around - and inside me - go up about a million degrees just from the look in his eyes.

I tightened my legs around his thighs and didn't let his neck go, either, but he still had the upper hand just by not moving his body. Feeling him inside me is good, but I was hoping for more action. I tried everything in my arsenal ... gently biting his collarbone, licking the underside of his jaw, even squeezing every muscle from my shoulders down. But he didn't friggin' move ... at all.

I was relieved to see that he's clearly struggling a little, too. His skin feels hot to the touch. His eyes are dilated black and intensely focused on my face and likely on his internal battle. And there's a slight sheen of sweat now coating his skin. I wish I could hold out too, but I never could - and still can't - when this man is the one involved.

"Alright," I said, groaning half in pleasure and half in frustration, "you win the control battle. You have more willpower than I could ever hope for."

I gasped as he finally did move. He slid his hips slowly forward and back before dropping his damp forehead to rest on mine.

"I may have some willpower, but I've never had any real control when it comes to you, Steph."

I'd spend a little time celebrating that verbal victory if I wasn't too busy enjoying the feel of him loving me.