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He doesn’t answer immediately, instead adjusting our position so our linked wrists are wedged between us and I’m arranged over his

legs.

“She wanted her and Mitch to pop in tonight to make sure things were okay and bring dinner. I nixed that idea.”

“And?”

“She didn’t mean to get you riled up. She was trying to diffuse the situation with humor thinking it would help you smile. She’s a worried mom and told me that however I’d fucked up, I needed to fix it. She and your dad are fighting their instincts to come here and see for themselves you are all right.”

“How have I not ever noticed everyone in my life is so invasive? Can’t a girl break up with her boyfriend and wallow in peace?”

His eyes grow sharp, his hand going to the back of my neck. “That’s the last time you mention breaking up.”

His tone leaves no room for argument, and a shiver runs down my back. He notices and yanks the throw around us. I try to think of something witty, but my brain is muddled with everything that has happened.

“No more calls,” he tells me, the sharpness in his eyes fading. “Everyone is curious, wanting to know how this is going. In due time, they can hassle. But these next few days are mine.”

“So you keep saying.”

My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and I swear it vibrates between us. His lips tip up in an amusing grin. “Someone needs to eat.”

“That means you have to let me loose to get dressed. I don’t have much here.”

“The kitchen is stocked.”

“How in the hell did you pull that off?”

“I had food delivered while you were napping.”

“You mean when you put me into a non-sex coma?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, his eyes now dancing with humor. “Multiple orgasms have that effect on you.”

“One of these days, I’m going to cuff you to the bed. Payback is hell.”

“Something to look forward to. Now, up you go.” He stands and effortlessly arranges me in his arms, carrying us toward the kitchen.

“You are going to release me to get dressed and eat, aren’t you?”

“Sort of.”

He sets me on my feet, grabs his bag off the floor, and lifts me onto a barstool. He rummages through the side pocket and produces a set of keys.

“I thought the keys were in the bedroom?”

“Multiple sets.” He closes in, bending to skim his lips over mine.

I fall into him, losing myself and meeting his tongue stroke for stroke. His fingers thread through my hair, tilting my head for better access, deepening the kiss. Even after spending all day in bed with him, experiencing the most erotic and sensual pleasure I’ve ever had, my body comes alive with desire for more. I scoot to the edge of the stool, wrapping my legs around his waist and thrusting my hips to his. He growls down my throat, grinding until the tip of his cock teases me. I moan in pleasure, angling so he can slide inside… and then he’s gone.

My eyes fly open to find him backed against the bar, his chest heaving. His gaze is dark, full of hunger. Then I realize he’s no longer attached to me. I try to reach for him and feel the pull. I’m now locked to the arm of the stool.

The heat vanishes, replaced with a new kind of burn. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Sorry, that got out of hand.” His voice is rough.

“This situation is getting out of hand! You’ve lost your mind.”

“I’m not taking any chances.”

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