I stayed at Carson’s place a lot more than I should have. Being there was like a vacation—no roommate, an incredible bathtub, and total quiet.

He didn’t call but he texted dirty messages a few times, begging me to take pictures of myself in the tub. So he could make sure I hadn’t broken it. No pictures were taken but there was a message returned, letting him know just how well I was taking care of his tub. The new soap I’d bought made bubbles that wouldn’t ruin the jets, so the bath and I were both very, very clean.

His response came in multiple texts over the next hour, as if he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The first was, ‘Stop torturing me.’

The second—‘Keep torturing me. Tell me you’ve been touching yourself in my bathtub. If you haven’t, do it immediately and get back to me.’

The third—‘There better be enough soap left when I get back because you and I are going to get really dirty.’

And the fourth—‘You know I’m kidding and not kidding, right?’

I did. That was the best part of all. He was a massive flirt who would back it up the second he could, but who somehow knew that if he pushed me too hard into something I wasn’t ready for, we’d both lose.

---

I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear while I flicked the lights off and locked up my shop. It was just starting to get dark, the time I’d normally have gone to the café to see Carson. Normally? I wasn’t sure how much normal there was in this situation.

“When are you coming back?” God help me, I missed him.

“I wish I didn’t have to say Saturday, but I do.”

So I had a few more days before he got back to town and wouldn’t have 24/7 access to his bathtub anymore. Not that he would say no if I even hinted at it, especially because I’d be naked.

“Unless some kind of divine intervention happens and Renee’s fiancé calls the wedding off. Maybe he’ll finally realize she’s been lying to him about being a decent person. Or found someone who was with him for a healthy reason.”

“What do you mean by healthy?”

“How the fuck should I know?” he said, laughing. “The only reason I’ve ever been with anyone is sex. Although, if you’re doing it right, sex is exercise, and exercise is healthy. So I guess that means I’m a health nut. You and I should start exercising together.”

“I don’t think that’s what they mean.”

“I was kidding. Not about sex being healthy—I totally believe that. But about sex being the only reason I’d ever be with anyone. Look at you and me.”

“Right. The only reason you’re with me is because you want to have sex with me.”

“Come on, you know that’s not true.” His voice changed—got lower, more serious.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m with you because I want to have a lot of sex with you.”

“Should’ve seen that one coming.” The pedestrians I passed looked at me oddly because I’d rolled my eyes so dramatically.

“Until then, I guess I’ll have to enjoy your company,” he grumbled. “You’ll let me know when I don’t have to do that anymore though, right?”

“You’ll be the first person I tell, promise.”

The volume of his voice dropped again. “It would be a mistake, you know.”

“What would?”

“To fall for me.”

“I’m not.” I didn’t want to, either. What I wanted was to understand him and to know that he trusted me enough to feel like he could tell me anything. Because I was pretty sure he didn’t have anyone else he could tell.

“The only thing I love about you is your bathtub. But just out of curiosity, why do you think it would be such a mistake?”

“Because I can’t give that back to you. It would have to end, and you’d be worse off than before we met. That would be my fault. I wasn’t kidding about being a selfish bastard. If I wasn’t one, I would tell you to walk away.”

“And then I would say, ‘Why don’t you go fuck yourself because I don’t want to go away?’”

The smile was back in his tone. “At which point I would probably say, ‘Since, unfortunately, it’s not physically possible to fuck myself, why don’t I fuck you instead?’”

“And I would say, ‘Okay.’”

“What?” he said on an inhalation. The kind of inhalation I was having trouble doing. I’d surprised myself as much as him by saying it, but I didn’t want to take it back. I was more comfortable with him than I’d ever been with anyone, probably in my entire life. All the worry and fear I’d always felt while I was with a guy wasn’t there because I knew Carson wouldn’t judge me. He knew who I was better than anyone and he liked me anyway.

“Say it again, Lane.”

“Okay.” Because it was okay, and I wasn’t afraid. Carson wouldn’t let me be afraid. It had nothing to do with love—it was better than that. He would protect me, even from myself, because that’s who he was, whether he admitted it or not. He would help me deal with this just like he’d helped me deal with everything leading up to this—with a joke, a stupid comment, or just by listening.

“Seriously?” It was whispered.

“Seriously.”

“Damn it,” he whined at full volume. “You couldn’t have waited to tell me that? I’m stuck here for a few more days, and I’m going to be hard the whole time.”

I laughed. “Flattering, but I’m not that irresistible.”

“Pretty damn close. Listen, I gotta go. But… I don’t want you to regret anything. So until I’m inside you, you’re allowed to change your mind. Even after I’m inside you, you’re allowed, although you might have to use small words and lots of hand gestures to get me to focus.”

After he’s inside me. That was going to be playing on repeat in my mind for a while.

“Think about it, but don’t overthink it, until I get back,” he said. “In the three longest days of my life from now.”

---

Over the next two days, thinking about him and what was going to happen took more of my time than anything else. I’d made a commitment, but only to sex. Does that qualify as a commitment?

The night before he was supposed to come back, I went to his place after work and took a long bath. So long that it was dark by the time I got out, so I decided to crash at his place instead of walking home.

He had lots of extra rooms, but none of them were set up as a guest room, an absence that screamed ‘don’t get too comfortable here ’cause you won’t be staying long.’

I could’ve slept on the couch. But I didn’t.

Instead, I climbed into his gigantic bed, trying not to think too hard about why I wanted to try it out, ignoring my body’s Pavlovian reaction to being there. He’d told me that when he slept without sleeping with someone, he went to her place so he could go home afterwards. Because he can’t sleep with anyone in his bed, so this might be my only chance to spend an entire night with his scent surrounding me.

He’d probably be fine with me crashing here—Carson wasn’t attached to things or territory, or people for that matter. The worst and inevitable thing that would happen is he’d tease me about it. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him at all and just make sure his bed looked exactly the same as he’d left it. I’d have to give myself plenty of time to get it to look that chaotic.

---

I woke up when the bed dipped and someone got under the covers.

“Go back to sleep,” Carson whispered.

It was absolutely idiotic for me to be sleeping here, but I had and he’d caught me. I didn’t turn around. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Neither are you.”

“I...”

“I don’t mind. Actually, it’s kind of nice to find a beautiful woman in my bed after going a whole week without seeing her.”

As great as he was for my ego, I wasn’t supposed to sleep over. That was a rule from the first conversation we’d had.

I slid to the side of the bed, slower than normal because I still wasn’t fully awake. “I’m gonna—”

“Stay.” His hand was hot on my skin as he slipped it around my waist and dragged me backwards into him.

At least I was wearing a tank top and underwear because it would be all sorts of weird if he found me naked in his bed when he wasn’t supposed to be home yet. I knew he was wearing something but it didn’t blunt the feel of his erection pressing against my ass.

I was just as stiff, beyond uncomfortable and embarrassed, so I tried scooting away. He didn’t let me. “Carson, I—”

“I’m not going to step out of line, okay? It doesn’t mean anything other than you feel really good next to me. I’ll calm down eventually.” After mumbling something I couldn’t understand, his hand moved down my side, his touch light. When he reached my hipbone, he curled his fingers around it and used it to pull me closer. My back arched at the same moment, pressing my ass harder against him.

“Unless you keep doing that.”

Then he stopped speaking and the only sound was the occasional deep sigh or a whimper I couldn’t stifle. Every time I felt his lips touch my shoulder, my neck, that spot just behind my ear that sent a sharp bolt of delicious directly to my core, breathing got more difficult.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God no.”

His hand kept moving, over my shoulder to my neck, pushing my hair out of his way before continuing its torturous path. Down the outside of my arm, up on the inside, the back of his fingers brushing my breast and stopping, as if he couldn’t decide which direction he should go.

I turned slightly to encourage him to touch my chest, but he was already moving back down my arm. His gentle caress continued onto my hip, down my leg, then back up as close to as much of my ass as he could touch with our bodies pressed so tightly together. Back to my hip and then down onto my belly. Inching closer to the edge of my panties. One finger went under. Then multiple. My breath caught.

“I want to make you come so bad,” he whispered, his breath warming the side of my neck. “Just my hand. Is that okay?”

I couldn’t speak, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to just be his hand. “Uh huh.” The truth was I could probably come from all the tension built up over the last few weeks. Actually, I’d come plenty of times fantasizing about something really similar to what he was doing right now.

I rolled onto my back, wincing as he yanked my panties down hard.

“Sorry.” He waited for me to lift my legs and then pulled them the rest of the way off.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” His unshaven cheek scraped my skin when I turned my head to find his lips. He rested on one elbow and his hand snaked behind my neck, controlling the angle of my head and forcing my mouth open for his tongue. He tasted so male—so Carson. Honest, no holds barred, putting everything he was into this amazing collision that had started out as a simple kiss. One that wasn’t supposed to be happening because neither of us were supposed to be in this place at this moment. But we were, and I wouldn’t have given it up for anything.

His other hand kept moving, doing something I couldn’t focus on because the pleasure was systemic. All insecurity about the other women he’d been with disappeared. I wanted to thank each and every one of them for giving him the practice. He knew exactly where to be gentle, when I needed more pressure, even when to free me from the kiss so I could get more air.

I ran my fingers through his hair, tore at his shoulders, grasping any part of him I could as he stroked and filled me.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I think I could come just hearing you moan like that.” Had I been loud? I didn’t know, couldn’t tell, couldn’t remember, and didn’t care.

When I slid my hand down his side to the crest of his hip, fingertips under the band of his boxer-briefs, his hand disappeared, reappearing to stop me before I could grab his cock or climb on top of him.

I whined, “Don’t stop. Please, Carson. Don’t stop.”

He pushed my leg off him, moved my arms back onto his shoulders, and then finally put his hand back exactly where I needed him to be. “If you move your hands again, I’ll leave.”

“Why?”

“Because you just woke up, and I need your complete focus for our first time together. I shouldn’t even be doing this. There’s a limit to how much I’m going to use you when you’re not completely aware of what’s happening.”

“I want you to use me for everything.”

He groaned. “You need to shut up now. The only thing I want coming out of your mouth is a lot more moaning. And the only thing I want your body to do is what it’s already doing.” He didn’t let me agree or disagree, silencing any protestation with another kiss and a deeper stroke of his fingers.

Oh god. I tried moving on top of him again, not on purpose but just because I couldn’t help myself. He grumbled and moved me where he wanted me and told me to knock it off. After that, if he really wanted me to shut up and take it, he got exactly what he wanted.

To not have to think or anticipate what someone else needed, to have all his attention on me, on what I was feeling, being controlled by what he was doing, was—

“Soooo good!” I said through my teeth, every muscle tightening, fighting not to roll over and slide onto his cock. I’d never wanted anything or anyone more. He slipped his leg over mine, pinning me to the bed somehow.

“Shut up, Lane.”

I think I’d been begging, if not in words, in tone, whimpering, asking him to take me completely. My hips raised off the bed, forcing him to go deeper, harder, faster.

His lips moved to my neck and he mumbled, “I said just my hand, didn’t I? That was stupid.”

It was too late anyway. I was so close, my back arching, my nails digging into him. I was making desperate sounding noises that I knew I’d be embarrassed about later. Not now, though. Now I felt too good to be embarrassed or worried about anything.

“Damn it, I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Then why was he? With his breath hot against my skin, the last piece fell into place and I went over, screaming a release that had been building ever since we met. It went on forever, my entire body tensing and my back jerking off the bed with each aftershock.

My body was dead, gone, over, completely useless. “That was...”

“The most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, still caressing me gently even though he was breathing almost as hard as I was.

“You mean I didn’t scream out someone else’s name?” My laugh increased the feeling and then immediately sent it over to the too-sensitive side.

“Nope, it was mine.” He kissed me, increasing the pressure of his fingers. “Again.” It wasn’t an offer—it was a demand.

I pushed him away. “God, no. I can’t.” As much as I wanted to. “I can’t.” But he could…if he didn’t stop me from touching him again. “Don’t you want to—?”

“I’m good.”

Not nearly as good as I was right now. “But I want—”

“Shut up and go to sleep.” He pulled me close to his chest, and I could hear his heart pounding. “You’d better believe we’re going to discuss it tomorrow, but for now, just go to sleep.”

Well into the exhausted, post-orgasmic preamble to deep, deep slumber, I wished he was in it with me. And I’d be happy to help him get there. But out of everyone I knew, Carson was the one who’d never be shy about telling me exactly what he wanted. So, if for whatever reason he gave a little while ago, he didn’t want to, maybe I’d...sleep. And then when we...