My skin feels electric as my car turns onto Ben's street at the end of my exciting workday. My stomach is performing a full-on gymnastic routine. I try to calm my nerves by telling myself that I'm just excited about the sex. I enjoy the way he fucks me…That's all.

But deep down, I know it's not that simple.

I like the soothing rumble of his laugh…I like his deep, steady breaths in my ear…I like the sound of him singing in the shower…The boy I fell in love with has become a man and I feel like I'm getting to know him all over again. Even though I'd honestly intended to keep this thing purely physical, it's hard not to like this guy.

As I approach his house, my heart beats faster with anticipation. I catch sight of him at the end of the street in nothing but jeans and a grey thermal sweater, its sleeves pushed back to his elbows. He's shoveling snow from a driveway and as I get closer, I realize that it isn’t his driveway.

I park at the curb outside of his house and climb out of the car. I can't push the smile off my face as I cross the street to meet him. "Hey..." I call out as I move toward him.

He stops shoveling to look my way. "Hey..."

His grin is so wide it makes my knees weak. I lose my footing and slip on a patch of ice. "Whoa! Careful there!" He drops the shovel and rushes over to me. He slips one hand across the dip of my waist to catch me. "I keep telling the Gentrys they need to salt this driveway or else it turns into a skating rink." He examines my face. "You okay?"

I adjust my glasses on the bridge of my nose, wishing there were a simple way to adjust my heart rate. "I'm fine." I glance back at the house. "You shovel your neighbors' driveway? Trying to supplement your allowance, huh?" I poke him teasingly in his rock hard abs.

He shrugs a shoulder. "I need pocket change to buy flowers for my crush," he tells me in a derisive tone.

I feel a blush creep up my neck. "Oh really?"

He nods. "Yup. When I'm nice to her, she lets me feel up on her boobs."

That answer catches me off-guard and I find myself snorting with laughter. 

Ben looks unreasonably pleased with himself. "To answer your question, yes, I shovel for the Gentrys whenever I have the time. But only because Glenda bakes me cookies and Ronald tells the best old war stories."

"That's really sweet." I bite down on my bottom lip so I don’t smile too hard.

He grabs an extra shovel from the side of the house and thrusts it my way. I narrow my eyes at him and he laughs. "The faster we finish with work, the faster we can play."

Well, now I'm not complaining because I really, really want to play.

I'm digging snow off of the driveway and tossing it onto the bank as quickly as I can. Ben, working alongside me at a much more leisurely pace, is thoroughly amused by my eagerness. His rich laughter warms the chilly air and tickles the pit of my belly.

“Oh shush!” Pretending to be annoyed, I dig up a heap of snow and throw it his way. 

Big mistake!

In his world, that simple act may as well be a challenge to duel. A snow duel, that is.

Now we're each scooping the powdery stuff off of the snow bank and launching it at each other. It’s all fun and games until I end up with a load of snow to the face.

Oh, hell no! I drop my shovel and shriek. Ben tries to apologize but all that comes out of his mouth is uncontrollable laughter. Now, I’m bent on revenge. I squat down and ball up a handful of snow between my mittens.

“Don’t you dare!” he warns through his laughter. “That was an accident, Gigi! Don’t you throw that thing at me!”

I hurl it at him anyway and it lands square in the middle of his chest.

Something snaps in his eyes. Shit! What have I gotten myself into? Now, I’m backing up across the snow-covered front lawn. He’s closing in on me with a monster of a snowball in his hand. “Please!” I beg shamelessly. “Please! No!” I cover my face with my forearm in anticipation of the strike. When the ball connects with my ribs, it’s a full-on snow fight.

We're laughing and running and skidding around the front yard like reckless children. My hands are frozen, Ben's nose is red, I'm pretty sure my eyes are running. None of that matters. Ben leans over to construct a massive snowball and I seize the opportunity. I send one flying in his direction just as he’s straightening his body. It hits him square in the face. Shit!

He blinks at me through frosty lashes and a fire in his eyes blazing hot enough to melt all the snow on the lawn.

My hands come up to cover my gaping mouth. My apology is stifled by my snorting laughter. "I'm so sorry," I say as I take one step back to match each step forward he takes.

"You don't look sorry," he says, wiping his face in the crook of his arm and gritting his teeth.

I try to tamp down my laughter but my nostrils twitch from trying to restrain it. "Ben, please..." I beg. “Please…”

"You know I love the sound of that." He stalks closer.

I roll my eyes, faking annoyance. "Seriously?"

"Beg me, woman. Beg for mercy." With a sly grin, he bends and scoops up some snow.

The feminist in me overrides my self-preservation. My steps halt and I fold my arms across my chest. "So now you're gonna be a chauvinist?"

Shrugging a shoulder, he drops the snowball and smirks. "All is fair in love and war." With no further warning, he lunges at me and sends my body flying backward. I shriek as I land in the powdery snow and he comes crashing down on top of me.

Shrieking with laughter, I struggle against him but he pins me there. His face displaying just how much pleasure he's deriving from his position of power. And speaking of pleasure, his cock is harder than the handle of a shovel right now. My pussy instantly starts warming up despite the cold. When Ben releases his hold on my arms, I give my best push. He flips over willingly and I climb on top so that I'm straddling him. The look of satisfaction on his face is so annoying. "Jeez, Ben—topping from the bottom much?"

He laughs as he rises suddenly, sweeping me up in his arms. "Come on, let's go inside. And then you can be the boss. All night long." A shiver runs through me and it's not from the cold. It's from the raspy need in his voice.

Abandoning the shovels, he carries me across the street. The Gentrys are at their window, fully entertained by the spectacle. "Put me down,” I hiss. “Your neighbors are watching," I struggle to get free.

“So let them watch.”

A girl needs to know how to pick her battles so I’m not going to fight him. And I hate to admit it but even after all these years apart, nothing in this world feels better than being locked up in his arms. Sighing in acceptance, I bury my face in his strong chest. He smells supremely fuckable, with the mixture of sweat, testosterone, mild cologne and the scent of winter rising off of his skin. 

He enters his house through the side door. Kicking off his boots, he trudges into the room and sets me down on the kitchen table. He smiles at me as he slowly pulls off my knitted hat and tosses it onto the counter. Then he unwraps the scarf around my neck layer by layer by layer. He yanks off my bootlets and throws them blindly in the vicinity of the doormat. He leans his forehead to mine. His eyes shine—blue glitter glue—and his dimples nip at his cheeks.

On a deep exhale, he smiles. “Hey…”

I feel myself go all soft and swoony. “Hey…”

His warm lips land on mine as his fingers hook on the zipper of my jacket, slowly lowering it. By now, my blood simmers as the anticipation builds. When he pushes the jacket from my shoulders, it falls to the floor. I arch my neck back and his mouth finds my throat, my collarbone, the sensitive spot behind my ear. As he works his magic there, I rake my fingers through his hair, I whisper his name. His big warm hand comes to bracket one cheek and he strokes my temple with the rough pad of his thumb. A moan, so raw and primitive, shakes my chest as our lips touch. His own growl follows. 

I loop my arms around his neck because I want him closer. His hands trail down my sides and sneak beneath the hem of my shirt. When his fingers clench at my waist and his nails bite into my flesh, I moan again.

It’s true, the last time, I wanted him rough and demanding inside of me. And it was amazing on so many levels. But goddamn—I like this, too. Sweet and tender, unrushed. It’s beautifully overwhelming.

He brings his mouth back to mine and scoops me up. Then, he’s on the move, walking down the hallway toward the living room. Even with my eyes closed, I hear the roar of a fire and feel its heat. He eases me down onto soft blankets on the floor and breaks our kiss.

"Oh my god, Ben..." I look around and there’s an array of drinks set out on the low coffee table next to a small bouquet of flowers. There's also a platter of fruit and dark chocolate.  

He slides my pants down my legs as he speaks. "We still haven't had that drink..." The glow of the fire only accentuates the beauty of his features.

I don't know what I feel right now because I told him I don't want romance. I said that I just want sex. But my heart isn't made of stone. And what girl hasn’t dreamed of making love in front of a goddamned fireplace as snow flakes dance lazily in the darkening sky?

Suddenly, I'm very afraid. I don't know if my fortress will hold. I don't know if I'll be able to guard my heart against this charming man. He may be Prince Charming right in this moment but I can't forget that he hurt me once. I'd be a fool to let it happen again.

It’s bad enough that I spend my days thinking about him, recalling the taste of his lips and the weight of his body baring down on mine when I should be focused on work. This project with Dr. Elliot is exciting. I’m working side-by-side with a great medical mind. If we succeed in developing this device, we will not only advance the state of medicine, but we’ll improve the lives of millions of people in the process. That’s what matters. I can’t let my emotions distract me from that.

I sit up and try to back away. "Ben, why are you making this complicated? "

He hovers above me. His fingers curl around my thigh. "Because I used to have your heart. And I want it back."

I press my eyelids together to protect myself against the impact of his words. "You are incredibly selfish. D'you know that?" He’s forcing me to feel things I promised myself I wouldn’t and I hate that.

He brushes his lips softly over mine. "I'm sorry that I hurt you all those years ago, Gigi. I should have done things differently. I wish I could take it back but I can’t. All I can say is I’m sorry."

“Ben, I appreciate the apology. For years, I’ve wanted to hear you say those words.” I lift my hand and cup his cheek. His stubble scrapes my palm. My heart is breaking all over again. “But an apology doesn’t fix things. I can’t trust you. I don’t know how.”

His eyes drop and so do his shoulders. There’s something heavy in his expression. “I wish there was a way to make you understand.”

“We can’t go back to the way things were,” I tell him softly. “But we have right now…” I bring my lips to his for a soft kiss. “And we have this…” I reach up and unbutton his jeans before pushing the denim down his muscular legs. “And we can enjoy it for what it is. And that can be enough…”

He’s about to protest but I seal my lips over his. My fingers grip the hem of his shirt and I pull it over his head. He tries to further undress me but I push his hand away. Instead, I pull him down on the carpet and climb on top of him. I smooth my mouth along his jawline, his earlobe, his throat. I relish the grate of his stubble under my lips. My tongue pokes out and runs the length of his collarbone before I press kisses to the center of his chest down to his belly button.

When my mouth touches his pelvis, he hisses with excitement. “Fuck, Angie. Are you gonna take me with your lips? Are you gonna let me fuck this sweet, little mouth?” His fingers coil in my hair.

“Yes.” I whisper the word along his skin.

He’s so eager for my mouth. His cock throbs for my attention. I close my fingers along the steely column of flesh and stroke it softly then wrap my lips around the tip. I groan at the sweet, salty flavor of his precum as it drips along my tongue.

He rises up slightly off of the carpet, leaning his weight on his elbows so he can watch me. “You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. You’re so damn gorgeous.”

I roll my tongue along his length and feel the thick veins throbbing beneath my touch. He squints and his muscles flex. His grip tightens in my hair.

A moan pours from me when he tugs at my roots and my mouth vibrates around his cock. His body clenches in response. “So good,” he says in a whisper. “So fucking good.”

I cup his balls and stroke them tenderly as I bob my head faster. I take him deeper. I smooth my hands down his strong thighs, up the rippled planes of his chest. He smells intoxicating and the taste of him makes me absolutely ravenous.

Looking up at him from this vantage point is dizzying. He’s so handsome with his face contorted, his limbs tight and glistening, the glow of the fire reflecting off of his skin. I can’t help the way my heart squeezes with some emotion I’d rather not feel.

Just when I think he’s about to come, he leans up and grabs me by the armpits. He pulls me up so I’m sitting in his lap. His eyes stay locked with mine as he slowly undoes each button on my shirt. He rises into a sitting position and with his nose nestled against my throat, he eases the shirt off of me. His kisses move across my chest as he sheds me of my bra.

He reaches into his pants pocket for a condom. More kisses on my chest as he puts it on. Then he moves my silky panties to the side. I rise up onto my knees and his hands come to my waist. He eases me down the length of his shaft and I moan.

Now I’m riding him. Slow. I rock my hips. Back and forth. And his movements match mine. I try to bow my head, to bury my face in his neck. So that I won’t have to watch his expression, so that I won’t have to see all the longing there. But he won’t let me. His hand comes up the front of my throat and his fingers close softly around the column.

My body pulses at the intensity in his eyes. He wants me. Every part of me. In every way. It’s written on his features and he holds my gaze, forcing me to witness the emotion.

It’s so much. It’s so intense. I feel the orgasm spooling low in my belly. So much heat. Flames licking at my insides. “I’m coming,” I whisper and my head falls back.

His lips find my skin, teasing, biting, licking.

And I’m coming.

Everything goes tight and lights spark behind my eyes as the feeling consumes me. On the heels of a dark warning, his body goes rigid and his cock spasms in the depths of me. We cling to each other, so tight, as we ride the wave. Together. Every step of the way. I panic as it all flares.

Inside of me. Around me.

This isn’t just sex.

The flame between us roars, it burns brighter than the sun. There’s no way to deny this passion. It’s there in every touch, in the way he looks at me, in the way my heart pounds when he’s near. And although my lips say that we can’t be together, there’s nothing my heart wants more.

Yes—the sex is amazing. It’s earth-shattering. It’s mind-blowing…And deep down, I know it’s not nearly enough.