Oh, my god, I’m finally single.

I watch Connor close the door and turn to face me. Icy terror tickles down my spine as he stalks over to me. I feel like my luck has run out. He looks tense, furious, even, and I know the whole delay has pissed him off.

He stops before me and places his hands on the edge of the counter again. When he leans in, his scent overcomes me and I breathe deeply of him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, needing him to know I didn’t want any of that mess to be a bother to him. My heart is slamming in my chest as he says nothing. He's staring me in the eyes like he can discern my secrets.

“We need to talk,” he says finally, his voice low and sensual.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” I breathe, feeling that tingling warmth flooding every bit of my body.

His pupils spasm and I feel my breath catch in my throat. How does he have such a profound effect on me? It’s not even anything he’s doing or saying, there’s just something about him that leaves me trembling like a desperate little horny bitch. I love it.

I want him to kiss me. Hell, I want him to do more. I want him to prove that whatever this is between us isn’t just lust. It’s mostly lust, sure, but there’s something else, some connection that’s undeniable.

But he steps back.

And every bit of my being silently screams at him to come back.

“We’re going to lunch,” he says, the words clearly an order, not a request.

I nod, wondering if I should ask if I need to change. I’d never expected to leave my room like this. It’s the situation that’s leaving me looking totally whorish and underdressed.

“Should I change?” I ask, and he looks me over.

After a moment, he shakes his head. Heat colors my cheeks as I think about stepping out in public like this. I mean, the shorts aren’t see through white, but they are short. And I’m not wearing a bra under this, so every little effect he has on my body will be obvious. Or if I get cold, I guess.

Something tells me it’s not a good idea to cross him. His mood seems to have shifted to business. There’s still a heat to him, but the sensuality is subdued. He moves around the room quickly before walking over to me again.

He grabs my ass and pulls me toward his hip. The movement is sexy as hell, but until my feet hit the floor, I’m unaware my legs are asleep. I almost fall.

He holds me tight to his body as the fire of pins and needles elicit a gasp from my lips. The pain is intense, but his hands on me, his kindness not to let me crumple at his feet helps ease the torture.

After a few moments, he leans away and I balance just fine on my own with only a little help from the counter. With his hand in mine, he leads me out of the room and locks it up behind him. I look around, expecting to see Zac. But he seems to be really gone. Finally. I thought I’d never get rid of him. Hell, a small part of me is still sure he’s around somewhere.

We walk down the hallway and I find myself wanting to ask him questions. Questions about Cami, about the drama they were talking about. Then again, I’m pretty sure that it was all some kind of role play. But the story is so fantastic I want to know more.

In the lobby, he leads me toward the door. We step into sunshine and he leads me across the street to a little place I was wanting to try but didn’t have the courage to risk. It looks like a dive, but the smell lingering around the place is amazing.

We step in and the scent hits me full force. It’s incredible, like garlic and grilled steak. As he leads me to a booth near the corner, I wonder how many times he’s been here. I sit across from him and he studies me as I look at the menu.

“Order whatever you like,” he says, and I notice how intense his tone is.

“Thanks,” I say, surprised. I didn’t expect him to feed me, but I’m not going to complain. “What’s good here?”

“I get the steak,” he says, and I realize that’s likely why he’s not even looking at the menu. He already knows what he wants. I look over the options, wondering when he’s going to start talking. He seems to be watching me, studying me like he’s debating where to start.

“I’ll try the steak,” I say, putting the menu down to stare at him. “I’m sorry I was listening to you,” I say, needing to explain myself. “I was bored to tears, and your role play or whatever was interesting.”

His eyes narrow a little bit.

“And I’m sorry I stopped you from having sex.” My cheeks burn red hot. He’s staring at me, but I can’t quite make out his expression.

I push forward, needing to fill the silence. “You know, if you’d asked me to go out with you, I’d have said yes.” I mean it as a joke, but he doesn’t respond.

It's driving me up the wall. “So, Cami seemed like a neat girl. Why did she run out early on you?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.

He doesn’t disappoint.

So I try from another angle. “So, do you role play like that often?”

I fall silent as a waitress walks up. Her eyes stay locked on Connor as he orders. Even when he’s done, she refuses to look at me or ask me what I’d like. Annoyed by the blatant insult, I make a joke. “Clearly she doesn’t want a tip, she wants the tip.”

Connor’s gaze meets mine and I see something quite like a smile struggling to cross his lips. “What did you want, love?” he asks me and my heart nearly stops with the endearment.