My head is still reeling as I drive toward Skye’s place for our second night out. I spent all morning playing and replaying the camera footage from the last couple of days. I’d watched the late-night footage a few more times than necessary—the video captured her after she padded out of the shower and into her bedroom to grab a silk nightie off her desk chair. She’d exposed her full, perky tits to the camera lens for one mouth-watering, far-too-brief moment then pulled her nightgown on and clicked off her lamp.

But mostly, reluctantly, I’d witnessed her fight with Ian. Something was off about the whole thing, though I couldn’t quite place my finger on what. Skye was understandably pissed off about Ian’s gambling addiction rearing its ugly head again. And Ian dodged all her questions exactly like I expected him to—after all, no true addict would admit their problem in the face of an onslaught like Skye’s, even when staring at a stack of proof a mile high.

No, the part that stuck out to me was a smaller detail. At the tail end of their fight, as Skye burned out of her anger and settled into just being resigned at the situation, Ian did something unexpected. He told her that the name in the signature wasn’t the CEO’s. And then he’d challenged her to look it up, which she did.

If Ian was just another one of Rich’s debtors—the kind of person who burned through loans from every reputable source before turning to Rich in desperation—then why would Ian call his sister’s attention to the motherfucker’s name? It would throw Skye off the scent, sure. Since Rich isn’t tied to Borealis Group online, or to any group online, virtual prick ghost that he is, she might believe the letter was a fake. But Rich isn’t the type of name you want your little sister to know. And if Skye believes Ian, and doesn’t think this letter is from a casino after all, won’t she start asking a whole lot more questions that he wouldn’t want her looking into?

Maybe I’m just thinking too much like me, but I’d never want a person I loved within 500 miles of a man like Rich Tomlinson. I’d let her believe anything she wanted about me—just as long as she never learned about the things that man makes people do.

I’d rather let Skye be angry at me, throw me out, write me out of her life permanently, than put her into the path of Rich’s men.

But then, Ian’s already done that. The fact I’m here, picking her up for a date, is proof. She’s mixed up in this, whether I like it or not, and that’s Ian’s fault.

I clench my fists around the wheel as I whip into a parking spot at the bar beneath Skye’s place. Deep breaths. I don’t want her to see the rage on my face, or the confusion about her brother’s actions. And, honestly, I don’t want to think about any of that right now either. While I’m technically here because I need to do some follow-up digging so maybe she’ll confide in me, my need to be with her is all too fucking real.

I want to forget this job. Forget everything but her scent, soft and addictive; her taste when I drive my tongue between her legs; the way her supple body melds against mine; and the way her pussy clenches around my cock when I thrust into her.

I press the doorbell. There’s a long pause, during which my palms itch to grab her from the hallway and drag her out into my truck.

Instead, the door buzzes, unlocking in front of me. Guess she’s not ready to go yet.

I push open the door and take the stairs two at a time. Skye’s already opening her front door, smiling at me from the entrance. Another door clicks behind me, and I whirl around, paranoid as always, constantly on alert for anyone watching me. Watching her.

She notices my gaze and quirks her eyebrow. “Oh, Amanda was just helping me pick out an outfit.” Tilting her head to one side, she grins as she opens the door wider. “Come on in.”

What an outfit it is. A sleek, curve-hugging black dress that exposes her milky-white shoulders and shows just enough of her legs to remind me what my hands feel like gripping those thick thighs. The amount of cleavage the dress shows off, enough to tease, makes me want to rip it off her right here in the hall.

“I’m almost done,” she says as she sashays through her apartment toward the bedroom.

I follow her inside, shutting the door behind me, trying not to look as though I’ve been here before, seen this all before. It’s easy to fake, because I have no interest in eying up her quirky decorations or her much neater than yesterday living room. The only thing I care about seeing is her—naked, sweaty, and grinding underneath me.

As if she can sense my thoughts, she glances back and gives me a shy smile. “Make yourself at home.”

So I follow her straight into the bedroom. “I can but I can’t promise it won’t get messy,” I murmur in her ear, wrapping my arms around her from behind. She stills in the doorway, grinning over her shoulder, her black hair falling to one side as she looks up at me.

“It’s going to be hard to finish doing my makeup if you don’t let go,” she points out, though she makes no move to pull out of my grasp.

I pull her around to face me in response. “You don’t need it.” I mean it too. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.” I dip to press my lips to hers, savoring her familiar taste. She relaxes against me, and I part her lips with my tongue, flicking it against hers.

When we break apart, she sighs softly.

I don’t give her time to recover. I pull her into the living room, pinning her back against the window so the cool glass chills her warm body. Out on the street, passing cars speed by, and a couple of people outside the bar trade cigarettes. No one looks up at us.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” I lean in to nip at her ear. “You’re driving me insane, Skye.”

Her leg hitches up to curve around the back of my thigh, drawing me in closer, tighter. “You started it,” she tells me in a playful voice. Then it dips into a husky, more serious tone. “I want you so bad, all the time…”

“Not like I want you.” My voice comes out almost a growl. “Not the way I need you.” Not the way I’m scared to fucking death you’ll find out, you’ll hate me, and then I’ll never be able to feel you again.

My hands had already dropped to her waist—now they slide her skirt up her thighs. I step between her legs, parting them. Sucking her earlobe between my lips, I roll her earring along my tongue.

“I’ve never felt like this,” she breathes, her breath a hot sigh against my cheek. “It’s only the second time we’ve seen each other and already…” She leaves that sentence unfinished, dangling, as my fingers brush over her panties, start to edge those down her legs. “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” she rasps.

My stubble scratches her cheek as I lift my face. “It’s not,” I say, gazing into those huge, innocent blue eyes. Eyes that see straight through me, into the heart of me, and somehow, miraculously, she doesn’t turn tail and run. Even though she should. Fuck, she should.

“I see you all the time. Every day, every night,” I say. Her heart beats so fast I can feel her pulse flutter when my other hand reaches up to cup her neck in my palm. The confession tastes bittersweet on my lips. I’ll tell you what I can, Skye, but not everything. Never the whole story. “Every time I blink I see you. I see you spread across my bed every time I fall into it. I’ve fucked you so many times, tasted your pussy in my thoughts so much, I’ve lost count.”

I pull her flimsy pink panties the rest of the way down, and cup her ass, squeezing hard as I step closer, until my hard erection digs into her stomach through the fabric of my jeans. She squirms against me, and a jolt of electric pleasure shoots through my body.

I watch her eyes widen, her cheeks flush, as she witnesses the hungry look I give her. I brush the back of her neck, gathering her hair in my fist, and she shivers against me. “Do you think about me when I’m gone, Skye?”

Her cheeks flare an even brighter red, which makes me smirk.

“Tell me about it.”

She meets my gaze steadily, despite the way her breathing has sped up, her heart still pounding against the heel of my palm where I caress her neck. “In the shower, I think of you in front of me, running your hands all over my body.”

I let my hand fall from under her skirt now, pull my other hand away from her hair slowly. Then I take a step back, my eyes alight. “Show me.”

Still blushing, but still locking eyes with me, she runs her hands over her body, tracing her curves, squeezing her shoulders, her breasts, her hips, her ass. She lets one hand drop to her thigh, and inch up it, pulling her dress with it. “I think about your eyes. The way they look at me,” she almost purrs. “I think about your tongue. When you’re tracing it in circles around my nipples.”

Her other hand circles one breast, her nipple so hard at the touch I can see it even through the fabric of her dress and her bra.

My dick goes fucking crazy. “Take your dress off,” I order.

She does, her back still pressed to the window as she peels the fabric over her head and lets it fall in a puddle at her feet. Her panties still hang around her knees where I left them, and she steps out of them before she reaches back to unclasp her bra, letting it fall on top of the pile of clothes next to her.

“Show me what you do when you think about me.” It’s physically painful, the strain of my erection against my zipper, but I ignore it because I can’t stop watching her move. She pinches her nipple, then pulls hard as she closes her eyes, her lips parted in a soft gasp. Her other hand travels over the soft plane of her stomach, along the edge of her hips, until her fingers brush over her pussy. She bites her lips, and then looks up at me from under her long, dark lashes as she skims the outline of her lower lips, flicking her clit lightly. Teasing herself and me in the process.

“I think about your hard body pressed against mine, the water falling over both of us in the shower as you lean into me. I think about you shoving me against the tile wall.” She leans against the window, her bare back exposed to all the world below, her head still tilted to the side, straight white teeth toying with her lip.

She slides one finger knuckle-deep into herself, and she parts her mouth in a moan that makes my cock pulse. All I can think about is getting her on all fours, her lush ass high in the air, and filling every tight hole she’s offering to me.

“You lift my leg up,” she says as she raises one leg to rest it on the stepstool beside the window, her thighs parted so I can see her, pink and delicate and irresistible, as she drives a second finger into her pussy. “And then…”

“Keep going,” I growl. “Don’t fucking stop, Skye.”

She dips a third finger inside, and groans softly, bending over her hand as her thumb circles around her clit. Her other hand grips her breast even harder. “You pin me against the wall, and you fuck me.” She forces herself to straighten, leans against the glass window and thrusts her fingers into herself, deeper and deeper, as her thumb circles her clit faster.

“You f-fuck me until I… Until… ” Her eyes go wide and her lips spread open in an O I’m desperate to push my cock into. I can’t hold back any longer. I kick off my boots and undo my jeans, letting them fall to the floor as I cross the room to her. I catch her harsh moan with my mouth as I kiss her, enveloping her lips in mine.

When she comes, she shivers from head to toe, and I draw her hand up between us to lick her fingers clean, one at a time, keeping my eyes locked on hers because I want her to see how good her sweet puss tastes.

She watches me from under those eyelashes, her expression almost shy, which is crazy given what she just did for me. I bite her neck lightly, and smile against her pale, perfect skin. “You’re the hottest woman I have ever seen, Skye.”

Pressing her lips into my hair, she sighs. I don’t give her more time than that to recover. I grab both of her thighs, lift her until she’s balanced on the narrow windowsill and her legs are wrapped tight around my waist. In one frantic thrust, I drive my cock deep into her pussy, and her walls clench wildly around me. She’s still sensitive from before, so I take full advantage, teasing her clit when I pull out.

Then I slam into her again, her ass splayed flat against the window behind her with the force of it.

I take her hard, fast, both of us groaning, teeth gritted, clutching for every inch of each other’s bodies. Her hands fist in my hair, and I grip her waist so tight it’ll bruise, but neither of us slows. She bucks her hips wildly, meeting me thrust-for-thrust, the momentum building until we’re both slamming into each other. She shouts my name when she comes. She shouts it until she’s hoarse and the sensation of her tight, wet pussy sends me over the edge. I come deep inside her, filling her with my seed.

When I pull out, I sit back just enough to look at her swollen slit, and my throat goes dry as I watch a little of my cum spill out to mix with her juices. It’s unbelievably sexy how she’s covered in me. Still writhing and moaning. Soaked and pink and inviting. I can’t help it, I take the tip of my cock and glide it over her heat, smearing my seed from her clit to her pussy and back again.

Her eyes fly open and she arches her back. “What are you doing?” she mewls.

“Making you mine,” I growl. She just looks at me for a long pause, her blue eyes big and trusting, then she pumps her head up and down. Gives me a look like she’ll come again at any second as I circle the head of my cock and my cum around her clit.

“I’m losing control,” she finally rasps, and I know exactly what she means.

I’m losing myself to this woman. I’m losing myself, and finding a new me with her, but at the same time, it strikes me all over again how terrifyingly delicate this is. One wrong word, one misstep, and she could find out the whole story.

I can’t lose her. Not now.

I don’t dwell on the what-ifs. I dwell on her, her slick body and the sounds of pleasure she makes against my lips. We’ve barely finished and I already need to hear her scream for me again. We draw away from each other for just enough time to make it to her bedroom but then I’m on her again, spreading her thighs apart and stroking her clit until her eyes are rolling back in her head.

Skye is mine. This woman is mine, and I’ll fight like hell to keep her.