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Penny jumps up to greet us, and Ashley laughs and drops to her knees, showering my dog with affection.

Ashley on her knees.

How well I remember the first time I saw this image, how I imagined her sucking me.

How, when I actually experienced that pleasure, it was even better than I imagined.

“Come on, Pen.” I walk through the foyer to the kitchen and open the glass door. Penny eagerly bounds out into the starlight. I walk out onto the deck and look up.

It’s a clear night, and though the miracles of the night sky aren’t as clear here as they are in the vineyards, they’re still spectacular.

There’s such beauty in the night. In the darkness.

I’ve always seen it.

But darkness harbors demons as well. Demons I don’t want in my mind right now.

Tonight is for pleasure. For lust, desire, passion.

For love.

Ashley walks outside and stands next to me. “So gorgeous,” she says.

I simply nod, and then I turn to her, her lovely face illuminated by the sparkling sky. I cup her cheek, her skin like silk beneath my calloused fingertips. “So gorgeous,” I echo.

She sighs, a soft sound that eases its way past her lips and into my soul.

I love you.

How I long to say the words.

But she won’t return them. How can she, when I’ve been such a dick to her?

Besides, if I let the utterance pass my lips, I’ll lose what little resistance I have left.

And then all hell will break loose.

She brings her arm upward and places her hand on my own. The warmth of her cheek and the warmth of her palm hug my hand, and the emotion that passes through me is something I’ve never felt.

It’s love, yes. Desire, most definitely.

But it’s something more. Something so pure I can’t define it.

I’ll take her gently tonight. As much as I want to continue what we started that night at the Carlton—and I will—first I need to have her slowly. Carefully.

I remove my hand, taking hers with me, as the truth dawns on me once more.

I don’t know how to love her.

I know how to kiss her, and I know how to fuck her.

But those tiny reflections of affection—like holding her small hand in my own…

I don’t know how to do any of that.

And I don’t know how to make love to her the way I want to at this moment.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

I shake my head. “You should go.”

She lifts her eyebrows, her lips quirking downward into a pouty frown. Then she shakes her head. “Fine.” She turns.

I grab her shoulder and turn her back to face me. “I don’t know how to do this, Ashley.”

“We did pretty well before.”

She’s right about that. But that night was borne of jealousy and lust. The love came later, afterward, when I realized the depth of my true feelings.

That was when the monster in my soul broke his bindings and set me on this course.

I itch to touch the soft skin of her cheek once more. I long to caress her, show her my true feelings.

Then there’s the pure physical—the lust I can’t control. My dick is already hard inside my jeans, and all I’ve done is feather my fingers over the skin of her cheek.

She meets my gaze. “Kiss me.”

And without thinking another thought, I cup both her cheeks, lower my head, and take her lips.

Not gently.

Not the way I wanted to only moments ago.

But fiercely, jamming my tongue into her mouth and drinking of her. Of the drug that soothes me like no other. She returns my kiss, our lips sliding together, tongues tangling. I pull her close so that only the millimeters of our clothing separate us.

We kiss and we kiss and we kiss—

Until she breaks free with a giggle.

I regard her sternly.

“It’s Penny. She’s tickling my legs.”

My dog is dancing around us, her tail swiping over Ashley’s ankles.

This won’t do. I love that silly mutt, but she’s not going to stop me from having what I want.

“Let’s go in.” I grab Ashley’s arm—not gently—and lead her through the door and back into the house, shooing Penny to stay outside for a while.

“A shame to waste such a beautiful night,” Ashley says.

“It’s more comfortable inside.”

She arches one eyebrow. “Since when do you think that way? Aren’t you the most comfortable outside? Among your vines?”

I can’t deny her words, but at the moment, I’m thinking only about getting inside her, taking my pleasure, and I’m not excited about doing that on the hard wooden deck.

I pull on her arm, again not gently, and lead her to my bedroom.

My green comforter is crumpled on top of my bed. My bed only gets made twice a week, when the housekeeper comes. My mom used to insist I make my bed every day, but I never saw the point. I’ll just mess it up again in the evening. Once I moved to the guesthouse, I stopped that stupid chore.

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