“I can’t make any promises,” I told him as we set off towards my hotel. “But you were right. You are boring,” I said, even though I didn’t really believe it. I was only hoping that Tim did.

Nathan laughed. Glancing over, he looked almost relieved. “I told you so.”

“Guess I should have believed you,” I teased back. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. I still had to convince my editor. Considering neither of us had been that excited to share that with the public, I could understand why he was hopeful the article switch would be approved.

I, for one, just wanted to write something that mattered.

And I couldn’t deny that it had been nice to let the interviewer/interviewee dynamic drop between the two of us. To have an afternoon just being Nathan and Sophie. No guy had ever cared enough to spend a day just trying to cheer me up. Especially a guy who had a career-changing game to look forward to. I knew he could have been practicing. I knew he could have been doing a million other things that didn’t involve taking me to an animal shelter and reading with kids.

I also knew that he didn’t have to come to my room and tell me that Tim was planning on taking all the credit for the article. Nathan didn’t owe me anything, not really. We were basically strangers. Right?

I glanced over at him, admiring the view. His eyes were focused on the road, his hands at the proper ten and two, just as I assumed they would be, and he seemed more relaxed than I had seen him since we met. This was the real Nathan Ryder, I suspected. There was a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, one I doubted he even knew was there.

Something was happening between the two of us. Something that we had been fighting since we met. Something that I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight anymore.

I couldn’t help taking in the sight of him, the perfect chiseled profile with his strong jaw and cheeks bearing the lightest dusting of stubble. I imagined how it would feel if I ran my fingers across it, how it would tickle rubbing against my cheek, my stomach, my thighs.

I bit back a moan. Throughout all of this, my desire for him had not faded. If anything, it had intensified. And I could tell it was the same for him. At each light, he would look over at me, fire flickering in those beautiful green eyes of his. I wanted him.

And I was tired of fighting it. All my life I had worried about being different than my mother, about doing better than my circumstances, about being professional. And where had it gotten me? My boyfriend had dumped me for a sexy band member with no talent, my mom kept praying for me to quit my job to marry rich, and my co-workers thought I had slept my way into my job. No matter what I did people thought the worst of me. So maybe it was time to do what I wanted. What I had wanted to do the moment I first saw Nathan. The hell with the consequences. I had played by everyone else’s rules for too long. Now it was time to play by my rules.

When we arrived at the hotel, I had made my decision, and when Nathan got out of the car and came around to the door, I decided that I wasn’t ready to say good night.

“Maybe you should come up,” I told him, stepping out of the car.

He froze.

“If you want to,” I added quickly. Had he changed his mind? Had I misread the signals?

But he quickly tossed his car keys to the valet and took my hand in his.

“I do,” he said, his voice low and full of desire. I didn’t know if I was making the smart decision, but I did know at that moment that it was the right one.

* * *

I babbled all the way up to my room, my hand tucked in his elbow as he listened and said nothing.

“I think the article could be really good publicity for the shelter,” I was saying as I unlocked my room, grateful that I had both asked for my room to be cleaned and that I was wearing red underwear. It wasn’t lace, but it wasn’t old and stretched out, either. “If more people learn about it then maybe they’ll volunteer, or even better donate. I bet we can get people to donate a lot if we play up the possibility the shelter could get shut down. Lots of pictures with kids and those kittens. Lots of sad eyes. Probably in black and white. Really tug at the heartstrings. People will donate money, especially if they feel guilty about not volunteering or adopting.”

I was in the middle of the room facing the bed, when I heard the door click behind me. I whirled around to find Nathan leaning back against it, an amused look on his face.

“Did you invite me up to talk about the article?” he asked.

“I, uh…” I felt suddenly tongue-tied. I knew that if I said no there was no turning back. That I was officially taking the reins off whatever wild horse was pulling this carriage. I would be flying head first into dangerous territory.

But before I could second-guess it, he came over and took my hand. It was warm and comforting. It felt right.

“Tell me to go and I’ll go,” he said.

I looked up into his sweet, searching eyes and I was lost.

“Don’t go,” I told him. “Please, don’t go.”

And then I kissed him.

* * *

Unlike our first kiss, this one was slow and tentative. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to his, savoring the feel of them against mine. Nathan took my lead, his hand coming up to trace the line of my jaw. The gentle touch of his fingers against my skin made me shiver and I felt his smile against my lips. He took my face with both hands and I sighed, my mouth opening, his tongue finding mine.

I leaned forward, pressing my chest against his, my hands fisted in his shirt. The kiss shifted, the tenderness replaced by intensity, as Nathan plunged his tongue into my mouth, the hot taste of him filling my senses. I moaned this time, pulling him closer, my fingers dipping down to the hem of his shirt, sliding under and then up, touching the hot, smooth skin beneath.

He pulled back, grabbing my hands. He was breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against mine.

“Careful,” he said. “I don’t seem to have much control when it comes to you.”

I tilted my head up and caught his bottom lip between my teeth. “Good,” I murmured. “Control is overrated.”

He groaned deep in his throat and captured my mouth with his. This kiss was deep, my tongue tangling with his, wanting only to taste him. His hands slid down my body, palms curving around my breasts. I leaned into him as he cupped them, thumbs brushing against my nipples, which hardened and strained against my bra. One hand left my breast to busy itself with the buttons on my shirt, while he dragged his hot, perfect mouth away, to take gentle nips at the soft skin beneath my jaw.

My need for him, hot and wet, throbbed between my legs as his hand freed my shirt from my shoulders, peeling it away until I was standing in front of him in my jeans and a black lace bra. He lifted his head, his eyes intense as he took in the sight of me, my chest heaving, my skin flushed.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he said and lowered his mouth.

“Oh god,” I moaned as his hot mouth closed over the pearled tip of my breast. My fingers dug into his shoulders as he wrote his desire with his teeth and tongue. I felt that ache between my legs build, nothing short of agony, wanting nothing but release. I threw my head back as he moved to the other breast, lavishing it with the same delicious attention.

His hands were tight around my waist, my fingers fisted in his hair, my moans spilling from my throat without any restraint. But still it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

As if he could sense my frustration, he lifted his eyes towards mine and gave me a wicked smile. Before I could say a word, he raised one of his hands to his mouth and wrapped those perfect lips around two of his fingers. With his other hand, without looking, he flicked at the button of my jeans, undoing it neatly. Goddamn he was good. I was mesmerized by him. Couldn’t take my eyes away and he seemed to feel the same, his green eyes focused on mine. Pulling his fingers, wet and slick, from his mouth, he slid them down my stomach, into my jeans, into my panties and found the spot where I ached the most.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” I moaned as his fingers curved down, stroking me. When he moved against my clit, drawing perfect circles against the tender skin, I nearly fainted. God, it felt so good. His fingers were calloused but in a way that gave him exactly the right amount of friction against my most sensitive spot. It was the perfect combination of sensations and I couldn’t get enough of it. My hips rolled towards his touch, never wanting it to end. Everything inside me seemed to be centered at that very spot, my entire body attuned to Nathan’s hand against me.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered, his mouth hot against my neck. I felt like a violin being played by a master. Tension built and built with every thrust. I was pulled tight, everything focused on his hands against me, their perfect rhythm, and the sweet pressure. “Now come for me, Sophie.”

And I did, my body bucking against his hand, my screams muffled by his mouth as he claimed my lips with his, his tongue drawing the same patterns as his fingers. The entire world went bright white for a moment as I collapsed against his chest, every part of me drained of thought or sense.

After a moment, I realized that Nathan had withdrawn his hand from my jeans, but was still clutching me, his own breathing ragged. I might have come, but he had been left wanting. I lifted my head, meeting his gaze.

“You are incredible,” I said, my voice thick with satisfaction.

He smiled, but I could see the tension in his jaw. “I aim to please,” he said.

“Well, considered me very pleased,” I told him, finally finding the ground beneath my feet. I reached up to place a kiss on his chin. “And now it’s my turn.” I gave him a sharp nip beneath the earlobe, much like he had done to me.

“You don’t have—” he began but I lifted my fingers to his lips.

“Shh,” I said. “Just enjoy yourself.”

But the moment I sank to the floor, my hands reaching for his belt, there was a loud knock at the door.