I thought, maybe, he’d pulled away.

I didn’t know what I’d do if he did.

Maybe this was stupid and maybe it would make things worse, but the moment I’d seen him walking across the lobby, I’d known what I was going to do—what I needed to do.

The need for him burned inside me like a fever and there wasn’t any cure. As he leaned into me, arms stretched high overhead, I held my breath…waiting.

The doors of the elevator had long since slid closed, but he backed away, still watching me and reached out, hitting one of the buttons without ever looking away from my face.

When he didn’t speak, something in me died a little.

It came back to life when he reached out and caught me around the waist, yanking me against him. He boosted me up as the doors opened and he carried me from the elevator across the hall where a single door waited. He passed his hand over the keypad and I heard a buzzing, followed by a click.

He shoved the door open and we were inside. Then he motioned with his chin to the far side of the large foyer, and I saw it.

Magnolias.

Lilac magnolias.

The ones that were Nicky’s favorite. And mine too.

“How did you…where did you get those?” I stammered out.

“They’re your favorite. I want you to be surrounded by only the things and people you love, baby doll.”

I pressed a hand to my heart, overwhelmed by the flood of emotion. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me. But… how did you know to have them ready for me today?”

“I’ve had flowers like sent up to my suite every day since the guys and I bought this hotel, Thea. Every day for all those years that I waited. Just in case you surprised me and showed up. And every day that I saw them, you were here with me. Call it… faith.”

“I… God, I love you so much, LeVan.”

His tiger-stripe gaze held mine and I waited, expecting him to put me down.

He didn’t.

He turned around and pressed me back against the door, his strong hands going to the hem of my dress and dragging it upward until it bunched around my waist. “You want me crazy,” he muttered as he leaned in and kissed me, his tongue licking past my lips to seek out my mouth. “That’s all there is to it. You just fucking want me crazy.”

“Why should you get to be the sane one?”

At least that was what I tried to say.

The words made little sense because he’d slid one hand between the crevice of my cheeks, then lower, seeking out my entrance and in a blink, he’d pushed two fingers inside my pussy and I cried out at the sudden invasion. He worked me to a quick orgasm before he finally lowered my feet to the ground and turned me to face the door.

I didn’t even have time to brace myself before he kicked my feet apart and buried into me. “This is what you wanted, right, Thea?” he growled into my ear.

“Yes…”

He said nothing else, just fell into a rhythm that tore a harsh sob from me and quickly brought that biting, bruising hunger rising to the forefront. But just when I tipped forward and was close to falling over, he stopped, pulling out.

“LeVan!”

“Not yet,” he said.

He swept me up into his arms and I clung to him, breathless and disoriented, as he carried me through the apartment. Lights flashed in through the windows but they passed by too fast for my head to settle and before I knew it, I was bent over the edge of the bed as he knelt behind me. “Again,” he said, and then he was inside me, riding me with slow, deep strokes.

I moaned, shuddering around the feel of him inside me.

He smoothed one hand up the side of my hip, then down, before grasping the curve of my ass and pulling me open. I gasped when I felt him probing at the entrance to my anus and then he wasn’t just probing anymore, but anchored in deep. He’d slicked lubricant or something on so that his finger was slippery wet and I whimpered as he rotated, twisted, and stretched my inner walls.

“LeVan!” A crazed, new sensations rose inside me, something I couldn’t even begin to describe but it was wild, burning, all-consuming.

“Is this what you want, Thea?” he asked, adding a second finger and rotating both of them.

I cried out.

At the same time, he slammed into me harder, his cock so snug inside me, filling me up, making me whole.

The orgasm caught me sideways and I went flying into it.

But I never quite came back down from it. Somewhere between the start of my climax and the end that didn’t quite happen, LeVan withdrew. I moaned out in denial and tried to draw him back to me, but he caught my hand and pushed it back to the bed.

And I felt the head of his cock…elsewhere. It pressed against the entrance to my ass, wet now and prepared for him. Or…somewhat prepared. “Push down around me,” he said as he started to enter me.

Pain teased me, flaring just at the end of my consciousness.

“LeVan…?”

“Push down,” he said again, the command in his voice unmistakable.

I did so and he slid inside me. It wasn’t an easy passage and I shuddered as I tried to take him. He slid his hand around and pressed his fingers against my clit. As he began to circle it with slow, lazy caresses, I whimpered and shivered around the sweet, mind altering invasion of his cock.

I could feel him trembling behind me, trembling within me—his cock jerked and that brought about the first real jolt of pleasure. Without thinking, I flexed around him and he growled. “Don’t do that. You’re not ready.”

“But…”

He withdrew a fraction, then pressed forward. Pain flared. “See? You’re not ready.”

I didn’t care—sensations too intense to ignore rose inside but LeVan held himself apart, toying with my clit while he remained frozen in place. Unconsciously, I began to rock my hips against his hand. That was when he started to thrust inside me, slow at first, but as I relaxed around him, he moved deeper, harder, faster.

The pleasure, when it finally hit me full force, was so visceral, it knocked the air from my lungs and I thrashed, trapped between him and the bed. He gripped my hips now, holding me still for his possession and I moaned, so needy and desperate.

He didn’t make me wait.

He shafted me, over and over, and I cried out his name, over and over.

As the orgasm rose up and swallowed me, I heard him moan.

I felt him come, his cock jerking and pulsing inside me.

Moments later, I felt his head come to rest on my spine.

Dazed, sleepy, I managed to smile, although I winced as he pulled away. He helped me into the bed, and I curled up on my side, staring groggily at the window.

I had almost drifted off to sleep when he appeared at my side, a tall glass in one hand.

“Up, Thea,” he ordered, voice implacable.

I frowned at him. “I’m still mad at you.”

“And you’re still a little drunk,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not drunk. Tipsy.”

“Fine, Tipsy. You’re not getting out of the talk we need to have by being laid up with a hangover tomorrow. Drink.” He pushed the glass at me. It was filled to the top with something red. I could smell it—a fruity smell. I decided to go ahead and drink, because I was dying of thirst.

“I’m not drunk,” I said again. I wasn’t either. Tipsy, yes, my control somewhat questionable, but I wasn’t drunk. “And you should be glad, because if I was drunk…what you just did…” I rolled my eyes as I sat up and reached for the glass. Gatorade or something to that effect, I decided. I guzzled all of it. “You’d have to be a little ashamed for taking such advantage.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, voice dry. He scooped me up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I glared at him, but mostly so I wouldn’t sigh…or maybe cry. I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to do more.

“We’re taking a shower so if I decide to take advantage again, you’re ready for it.”

“I’m not just talking about…” My face went red. “Sex. But…um…”

“You talking about how I just fucked your ass?” He cocked a brow as he stood me on my feet just outside a lavish shower. “You want to be mad at me about that, you go ahead.”

“I’m not mad,” I said. “It’s not like I told you I didn’t want it.”

The thought never even occurred to me.

“Then why are we talking about it?” He stepped inside the shower and I heard the spray come on. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself, but had no more done that than he was pulling me into the enclosure. Silken, warm water rained down on me as he pulled me up against him. “I thought you didn’t want to talk anyway.”

“I don’t.” Tipping my head back, I stared at him. But only for a few seconds, because hurt still lingered, right under the surface.

He saw it, too, even though I ducked my head and tried to look away before he could see anything, he saw the hurt. “Okay, baby. We won’t talk.”

He washed me, from head to toe, with gentle, strong hands. Then, as I stood under the spray rinsing off, he washed himself. He didn’t immediately turn off the water. He picked me up and pressed me to the wall once more. This time, as he entered me, there was no burning, edgy hunger. It was slow, sweet…almost hesitant, even.

We watched each other the whole time and I convinced myself, after a few minutes, the drops of water on my face were from the shower. That was all.

* * *

I don’t know what woke me, my bladder or the ringing of the phone. It was probably the phone, although my bladder was a close second. Said bladder had woken me three other times in the night, but I was going to blame LeVan for that. He kept waking me up and making me drink Gatorade.

Guess he didn’t believe me when I told him I was tipsy.

Now, as the phone rang for what seemed like the tenth time, I lay flat on my back and stared at the ceiling.

Three glasses of Gatorade had made sure of one thing—I had absolutely zero headache.

Not that I would’ve had much of one, if any, to begin with. Tequila never did much to me and I’d switched out to water after four or five shots. I’d been pissed at LeVan, but pissed or not, I didn’t like making a fool of myself.

Because I had still been sobering up when I’d seen LeVan in the lobby and wondered if maybe I should follow him, it hadn’t taken much to decide yes.

If I’d been completely sober, I might’ve waited until I had a better grip on my anger before I went after him, but as it was, both anger and need had been in equal control.

Or maybe not equal.

After all, we hadn’t spent the night yelling at each other.

The phone rang again.

“What the hell, LeVan?” I mumbled, rolling onto my side to eye the device by the bed.

It wasn’t my phone that was ringing but the landline, resting on its cradle on the nightstand. I almost answered, then decided probably not a good idea. Instead, I got up to go to the bathroom. Halfway there, the ringing, thankfully, stopped.

It started back up again as I was washing my hands.

“What is it?” I demanded, out of breath from half running to get to the damn thing from the bathroom. I was tempted to grab it and rip the cord from the wall.

“Hello, Ms. Kent. Pardon the intrusion, but this is the concierge desk and your presence has been requested in the main lobby.”

“I…my…what do you mean, my presence?” Suspicious, I looked around.

“Just that, madam. When will you be down?”

I looked down at my naked body. “I’m not even remotely ready to be seen in public.”

“Not a problem. Just tell me when we can expect you,” the concierge said, his voice too chipper and happy for me to be able to stand it for long.

“Thirty minutes.” I hung up and looked around for my dress.