Ushering Cara into my apartment, I watch as she walks in, loving how she looks in my space. I could get used to seeing her here.

I don’t know what the fuck has happened to me in the last few days, but I’m thinking all kinds of insane thoughts that I’ve made a point of avoiding for my entire adult life.

I’m breaking all kinds of rules it seems. Second dates, bringing her around my family, opening up about things in my past that are so personal I’ve never shared them with anyone outside my inner circle. Literally. My family and Connor are the only people that know the details.

Walking up behind Cara, I wrap my arms around her waist. She leans back into me with a little sound that’s half sigh, half moan, and even though we just got in on in the limo—and it was fucking mind-blowing—it makes me rock-hard. I’m ready to go again with her. In fact, I feel like I might never get enough of that sweet pussy. I could lose hours of my life—hell, fucking years—buried right there between her legs and I’d be perfectly fine with it.

I nip at her neck. “Spend the night with me.”

She angles her head to give me better access to the smooth flesh of her neck, and I lose myself in it, wondering what the hell I’m thinking. But I’m breaking all the rules at this point. Why not go for the one that tops the motherfucking list?

I mean, yeah, women might crash in the guest bed after I’ve fucked them so hard and so long that they’re exhausted and spent and maybe not even able to walk out of here anyway, but I don’t actually ask them to stay. I sure as hell have never initiated a conversation and invited someone to stay over before we even fuck.

But like I’ve been thinking all night, Cara is different.

She turns in my arms, her hands sliding down my chest slowly until they rest on the waist of my pants, playing with my belt buckle. With her eyes sparkling with mischief, she cups my dick and squeezed gently.

“I think an entire night with you might be just what I need.”

I don’t say what I’m thinking. Because what I’m thinking freaks me the fuck out. I think an entire night with her still won’t be enough.

Shoving my hands into her thick, luscious hair, I tilt her head up and cover her mouth with mine, kissing her slowly and deeply until I feel her knees begin to weaken. She clutches at my shoulders, hanging on to keep herself upright, but I save her the trouble by scooping her up into my arms. Her legs lock around my waist.

Our tongues tangle, twining in a slow, erotic dance. A tease of what’s to come.

Holding her up by her sweet little ass, I walk toward the hallway, my mouth never leaving hers. I lose myself in her taste, her scent, the feel of her core radiating a pulsing heat that makes my cock throb with need to be buried balls deep inside of her.

And I stalk straight past the guest bedroom.

All I can think is fuck that. Because if Cara isn’t like any of the other women I’ve brought here, there’s no way in hell I’m going to fuck her on the same bed as the rest of them. She deserves better than that. And I’m shocked to discover just how much I want to treat her better, give her more than I have any other woman.

Her head falls back as I trail my tongue down the column of her neck, sucking and licking and teasing until she’s writhing in my arms, squeezing her legs tighter around my body, grinding her perfect pussy against my straining dick.

I groan. Fuck, I want her so bad. More than I’ve ever wanted a woman. And I want her over and over and over again.

Opening the door to my room, I carry her inside, kicking it shut behind me, and I ease the intensity of my kiss, lowering her slowly to the floor, the significance of this moment not lost on me.

I’ve never let a woman into my bedroom. It’s too fucking personal. It shows more of me than I let people see. Yet here I am, bringing Cara right into the midst of who I really am.

She seems to sense the shift in my mood and looks up at me, a small smile on her full lips. Then she looks around for a moment. I don’t know what I expect, but when she looks back up at me with surprise in her eyes, I know she sees it.

“Your room isn’t like the rest of your apartment.” Just a simple observation. But the meaning behind it is clear. I think she can tell that I’m letting her in, letting her see a new side of me.

Tearing her eyes away from mine again, she walks slowly over to my dresser, her fingers running along the surface of the nearly black wood, her gaze resting on every framed picture for long moments. Pictures of my family. My parents. Me. My brother.

She picks up one of me and Lucas from years ago, back when we were both in college, and her mouth tips up in a sad smile. My heart beats faster and my mouth feels dry.

In that picture, our arms are slung around each other’s shoulders and we’re dressed in hideously ugly Christmas sweaters. It was for a family Christmas party. An ugly Christmas sweater party. Something ridiculous that my mom wanted to do. Normally I’d be fucking embarrassed to let someone see that, but I love that picture. It was taken before Lucas went overseas. Back when we were young and carefree and the world was at our feet.

“I can see how much you loved each other,” she says quietly, and I feel my chest tighten with emotions I don’t want to feel.

I nod wordlessly. This has to be one of the most surreal moments of my life. I can’t even believe that I’m letting Cara this close to me. I don’t let anyone this close. Period. Yet here she is right in the middle of the real me.

And I like it.

There’s a sense of intimacy with Cara that I’ve never experienced with another person. Different from what I have with my family or Connor. I can be real with her, be myself, and she has no judgment whatsoever.

Not only am I having the most amazingly mind-blowing sex of my life with her, but I’m having fun with her. I enjoy just being with her.

It hits me that I’m all in this thing with her—whatever it might be—and I suddenly want her to be just as all in as I am. I want to explore what this is and what it could turn into.

Walking up behind her, I rest my hands on her hips and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Let’s get cleaned up before bed.”

Not that I have any intention of sleeping anytime soon.

Taking her hand, I lead her into my en suite. About time I christened that place.