She’s still in my arms when I wake up to a deep red sunrise filtering through the suite’s curtains. I’m on my back, and she’s curled around my body. Her warmth, her soft skin, her breath against my chest — it’s both familiar and thrillingly new. Six years ago, we’d spent one night together when her parents were away, but we’d hardly gotten any sleep.

This intimacy feels different, more erotic, more adult, than anything we’ve done previously. I reach into her hair with my hand and kiss her on the top of the head.

Somehow she soothes me, something I wasn’t even aware I needed – until I held her as she slept, and I realized that feeling of being calm is precisely what I’ve been missing.

We’re aligned perfectly. Her head nestled in the crook of my arm and her long, blonde hair is everywhere. I smooth back the strands and kiss her again the top of her head. Her leg is around my hip, and her hand is splayed on my chest. I should go back to sleep, but when her thigh brushes the skin of my hip, my cock forms other plans.

So does Cata, apparently. She slides her hand to my erection and strokes until I’m capable-of-cutting-diamonds hard. Then without opening her eyes, she climbs on top of me. With a fluid, slow motion, she sinks onto my cock, wet and ready. The sheets and duvet fall away, revealing only her body, which moves sensually in the morning sunlight.

Her eyes are still closed, and there’s a drowsy smile on her face. And on mine, too, because I’m watching her ride me. She plays with her breasts, pinches her nipples and rocks back and forth.

If there is a heaven, I’m in it.

Even though I’ve had two orgasms over the past twelve hours, my stamina still isn’t what I’d hoped with her. I feel so out of control, maybe because she’s pushing all of my buttons both mentally and physically. As I found out last night, Cata loves sex in all ways: sensual and sweet, hard and filthy. She’s also the same smart person I knew as a kid, and that turns me on as much as her body does.

With the other women I’ve been with, I didn’t bother trying to connect on a mental level. It felt awkward, and I ended up being awkward in bed. It’s not like that with Cata. I want to savor every second, be present for every single kiss, touch and moan that leaves her mouth. It’s like time slows when we’re together. And I can’t get enough of her.

I lick my thumb and slide it in between the folds of her pussy so I can rub her clit as she moves against me. Her eyes fly open, and she gasps, bucking against me.

This morning, she’s not talking to me as we make love, not like last night when we whispered dirty things to each other, told each other how fucking incredible it felt. This morning, we're soft and wordless. Religious, almost.

Her mouth is in a perfect O and she’s making soft cries as she picks up her pace, riding me.

“That’s it, Cata. Like that. Just like that. Take what you need from me.”

She leans forward a little, her hands on my chest and her clit making contact with my skin. I feel a surge of my orgasm when she lets out a low, throaty moan. She collapses onto my chest, her skin warm and a little damp from perspiration.

All I want now is to take her, explode inside of her. With a swift motion, a near-frenzy, I flip her onto her back and push her legs up onto my shoulders so I can go deeper. I clamp her wrists, her arms above her head. She’s mine now, open and ready.

And eager, if the way she’s saying “harder,” over and over is any indication.

I want to be lost in her.

She’s my perfect fit.

I can feel her muscles between her legs clench around my cock, and I can’t hold on any longer. I let out a long, yesss, and fill her with my come, then drape myself onto her. After I release her hands from my grip, she works her fingers through my hair. Flutters kisses on the side of my face.

I can’t believe she’s mine again.

Grinning as I roll off her body, she lies there with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips.

“You’re tired,” I say, brushing my mouth over her forehead. “Go back to sleep. It’s still early.”

As I climb out of bed, I feel her fingertips on my back.

“Where are you going? I’m not sure I want to be in bed without you.” She looks at me with half-focused eyes.

I turn around, kissing her on the mouth. Her hair is fanned out in blonde tangles over the white pillow, and my heart shatters at the sight because she’s so gorgeous.

The fact that she wants me around is so reassuring. Makes me happy. Makes me feel less vulnerable. Maybe it’s because I had an absent mom and a shitty dad, but Cata’s need for me fills up a hollow space inside. Other than Cata – and her family – no one’s ever really wanted me around.

“I’m going to check my email, shower and get us coffee. And I’m going to let you sleep for a while.”

I kiss her again, and she makes a cute grumbling noise. I watch her nestle into the duvet and drift off. Quietly, I ease off the bed and grab my phone.

On my way to the bathroom, I scroll through a shit ton of emails. Some are from the guys, teasing me about whether I’m having a good weekend. They sent me photos of Zelda in a camouflage dog vest, and I stifle a laugh.

Leaning against the sink, I scroll more. Sergei thanked me in a second email for our meeting. And then my eyes come to one subject line, in all caps.

SO YOU’VE FALLEN FOR A SLUT? I'll bet she can suck dick real nice.

What the hell? I tap on the screen.

There’s no words in the email. Only a single photo.

It’s one of the pictures from high school, the one where she’s looking straight into the camera, cupping her breasts. Similar to what she did in bed earlier.

I stop breathing. Who the fuck sent this to me? And why? My mind instantly goes to that politician in New York, and I make a mental note to check him out. Is he out for more revenge? He'd already gotten her fired. Wasn't that enough?

My face gets hot, and I feel a white-hot rage build inside my body. My hand’s on the doorknob of the bathroom, and I’m ready to burst into the room to show Cata, then a chill goes through me.

I can’t tell her about this.

Not only will she freak out, she might blame me somehow. Might think that I had something to do with it, that I’ve been spreading her photos around. Or she will assume that I still have the photos somewhere and didn’t secure them properly.

I need to fix this, must find out who sent this photo. I need to protect Cata from whoever is doing this. We need to get back to Gamerhouse.

Tapping on the screen, I forward the email to Sawyer without the photo attachment. His hacking skills are pretty good, and what details he can’t figure out, he knows people in London who can. Even though he’s a gamer, he spent a couple of years working for a Wikileaks-like group that collected secret information from the Dark Web.

“I want anything and everything connected with this email address. And don’t tell anyone,” I write. “We’ll be back …”

I pause. If I tell Cata that we’re needed back at the house, she’ll wonder what’s going on. She’ll demand to know. No, we have to stick to the original itinerary. Stay another night on Miami Beach. I need to pretend that nothing’s wrong and let Sawyer collect information for me. But I hate lying.

“We’ll be back Sunday night.” I include the politician's name and ask Sawyer to see if there's any link between him and the email address. I hit send.

Anger surges through me. We had the best night of our lives. Restarted our relationship. Had incredible sex. Cata looks happier than I’d seen her since I first set eyes on her that night she delivered the pizzas.

After everything she had been through, with the photos and her job and especially her father’s death, she deserves happiness. And I’m going to give it to her, here in Miami. We’re going to have an amazing weekend. I’ll deal with the consequences of this email when we got back home.

In the large bathroom, I scroll through my email and double checking for anything else that's suspicious. Then it hits me: what if this person sent the same email to Cata? Or something worse?

I need a plan, and fast.