There’s a moment of awkwardness in the morning. Farrah wakes up with a start, jumping up in bed. She whips around to look at me, letting out a sigh and putting her hand to her heart.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

“Just forgot where I was for a second. It’s been happening a lot since… since I left New York.”

I nod. I appreciate the fact that she doesn’t want to mention my brother, but I can see the tension in her shoulders and the way she closes her eyes for a long moment.

So, I do what any self-respecting man who just slept with his brother’s ex-fiancée would do. I kick off the blankets and spread my legs.

“Be honest,” I say when I see her eyebrows lift up. “Me, or Elijah. Who’s bigger?”

“Oh my God!” She laughs, glancing at me and turning away. She shakes her head. “I am not answering that.”

“Why not? Should be an easy comparison.” I bounce my hips up and down until Farrah throws a pillow at my midsection in an attempt to cover me up.

“That’s so inappropriate.” She’s laughing, though, biting her lip and staring at me with a gleam in her eyes.

“Seems pretty appropriate to me,” I grin, hooking my arm around her waist. I pull her down on top of me in a fit of giggles. I crush my lips against hers and tangle my fingers into her hair to deepen our kiss. She wraps her arms around me and swings her legs over to straddle me.

I groan.

The space between her legs is slick and hot, and it makes my cock throb. She sits up, rolling her hips back and forth on top of me. The velvety smoothness of her pussy is intoxicating.

“Farrah,” I breathe, groaning.

Her movement pauses, and she places her hands on my chest. She sighs, shaking her head.

“Why couldn’t I have met you first?”

Her eyebrows pinch together and I sigh, stroking her creamy thigh.

“Hey,” I say. “Don’t think like that.”

“I can’t help it,” she sighs. I can still feel her wetness against me, and it’s hard to control what’s going on in my body. My eyes flick down to her bare breasts, and then back up to her face. My hands run up her stomach and then cup her breasts. I pinch her nipples and she gasps. Her hands cover mine. She licks her lips.

She shakes her head. “Imagine what the papers would say if they caught us.”

“Fuck the papers! You think I care about the papers?”

“Imagine what your parents would say! What Elijah would say!”

Her chest rises and falls as her breath gets shorter, and she slides off me. She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. I turn onto my side, trailing my finger up her chest and across her collarbone. She closes her eyes for a moment, sighing.

“Do you regret coming home with me?”

She opens her eyes and looks at me, and then takes a deep breath. “No,” she says, and warmth spreads through my chest. Then a grin twitches across her lips. “Your bed is much more comfortable than mine.”

“Oh, gee, thanks.”

“Credit where credit is due.”

“Glad I could provide a comfy mattress for you.”

She laughs, fluffing the pillow under her head. “I think it’s more the bedding that makes it, to be honest. I can’t afford goose down pillows, or whatever these are.”

Watching her laugh while she lays in my bed, with the morning sun streaming through the windows and her naked body splayed over the blankets is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I wrap my arms around her and pull her on top of me, and this time she doesn’t climb off.

There’s no mention of tabloids, or family, or appropriateness. There’s just her body and mine, intertwined and connected in ways I’ve only dreamed of until now.

Her skin is soft. Her eyes are bright. Her hands drift over my chest as she rides me all the way to orgasm. I’ve never felt this good.

Later, when we’ve showered, we wander out to the kitchen. Farrah is wearing a tee-shirt of mine and it goes down just past her perfect ass. She opens the fridge and bends over to look inside, and the shirt rides up a little bit.

My cock jumps to attention.

How is it possible for one woman to turn me on this much? It’s like whenever she’s near, I’m immediately hard. She doesn’t even realize how sexy she is.

I watch her pull out a couple eggs and a carton of orange juice. She looks at me, raising her eyebrows.

“What?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

She frowns at me, shaking her head. “Weirdo.”

I move in behind her and wrap my arms around her. I just can’t keep myself away from her. When she pushes her hips back towards me, I growl.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Farrah.”

Her cheeks redden and a smile floats over her face. She turns her head, laying it on my shoulder. I let my hands drift up underneath the shirt and pull her body against mine.

She fits so perfectly. I inhale deeply, groaning at the scent of her.

This is too good.

But how long will it last?

The thought enters my head uninvited. As if she had the same thought, Farrah pulls away and points to my coffee machine.

“You know how to use that thing?”

I nod, tearing myself away from her to make some coffee. We work in silence, her making the eggs and me getting plates, utensils, coffee, and toast ready. We don’t talk much. When the eggs are almost ready, she hops from foot to foot and makes a little squealing noise.

“This looks good,” she says, and then glances at me. “Don’t you think? I’m starving.”

“Yeah,” I say, letting my eyes drop down her body. “It does.”

A smile flashes over her face and warmth passes through my chest.

We spend the whole day together, mostly in bed. After breakfast, we head to her hotel to check on Moose, and then we test out her bed. We avoid talking about my family or her breakup or anything that makes that shadow cross her face. I can’t help but feel like this is my only chance with her, so I do my best to memorize her body.

Just in case.

I make love to her again and again, drinking her in fully and completely. I watch her orgasm and try to burn the image of her face in my mind. I run my hands all over her body so that I can remember what it feels like underneath me.

This may be my only chance with her.