After feeding a very hungry Devon, he follows me to my apartment and waits outside while I quickly pack a bag. It’s close to midnight when I close the door behind me, leaving my sleeping roommate a note that says I’m leaving town for the weekend. My hope is that she’ll leave me alone for a few days so I can enjoy my time with Devon.

Ryder’s house is pitch black when we enter. I’ve never had to navigate through the house in the dark before so I grab Devon’s hand and allow him to guide me. I’m fairly certain he’s lost when he finally flips a light on and I realize we’re in the garage.

“Um, I thought you knew where you were going.”

“I do,” he says, pulling me up a set of stairs. “We’re staying out here this time.”

Opening the door at the top of the stairs, Devon pulls me inside and kicks the door closed behind us, the sound echoing off the walls and causing me to jump. I can’t see anything in here either, only a sliver of light is coming from the corner. I hear him running his hand up and down the wall, searching for a light switch. When he finally finds it and illuminates the room, I’m surprised to be standing in the middle of a giant bedroom.

“I never knew this was here,” I say, scanning the room and taking in every detail.

“Ryder added it when shit started to get bad with Megan. This was his room until she moved out. That way he was still living here with Amara but able to avoid Megan as much as possible.”

Well, shit. That sucks.

“Makes sense.”

“There’s a bathroom through that door,” he continues, releasing my hand to point behind us. “You can drop your bag anywhere. I need to grab a shower before we go to bed.”

Turning to acknowledge his statement, my words are lost as I watch him tug his tie off in one swift move. My knees go weak and my hands begin to shake. Thoughts of a naked Devon in the shower, dripping wet, consume my imagination. My very active imagination.

While Devon cleans up, I change into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. Turning on the television, I flip off the lights and crawl under the covers. Just as I’m getting comfortable, I hear the shower turn off and the bathroom door open.

“Hey, can you grab me a towel from the top shelf in the closet?” Devon asks.

He’s peeking out from behind the door, droplets of water running down his face, as I hand him the towel. He pulls it away slowly, smiling at me the entire time.

“I’ll be out in just a minute,” he says, winking before he closes the door between us.

Damn him. My mind is headed in the wrong direction. It’s late. I have to work in the morning so I need sleep, but all I can think about is Devon on the other side of the thin, wood door, naked as the day he was born.

Willing my feet to carry me back to the bed, I’m pulling the covers back up when he emerges in only a pair of shorts.

Sleep? Who needs sleep?

Devon crawls under the covers and pulls me to him, cradling my body with his. Closing my eyes, I welcome the warmth of his body surrounding mine, and the feel of his strong arms as they embrace me.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” I say, rushing around the room to find my shoes. “I’ll call you after lunch and we can meet up.”

We overslept.

I should be behind my desk right now, firing up my computer and getting ready for the day. Instead, I’m ripping my tank top off and slipping into the dress I brought for work today.

No time for modesty.

No time for a shower.

Hell, I’m going to have to put a little makeup on in the car.

“Blame me,” Devon replies, rubbing his eyes as he pushes himself into a sitting position. He was still asleep when I jumped out of bed and started scrambling around.

Looking over my shoulder, I give him a skeptical look.

“I don’t think Tyler is going to care if I’m late because of you or because I overslept. I’m still late.”

“Yeah, but at least he’ll know it was for a good reason,” he quips as he pushes the covers away.

A good reason?

If something had happened last night, I would say, yes, that’s a good reason. Not that I would have shared that with Tyler. Nothing happened, though. I fell asleep in his arms and forgot to set my alarm on my phone because all I could focus on was him naked in the shower.

That’s not a reason I want to share with my boss. Even if he is friends with Devon.

Reaching for my purse, I pull it high on my shoulder, followed by my overnight bag. When I turn around, Devon is standing behind me, pulling my bag away and tossing it in the corner next to his.

“You’re coming back here tonight, right?” His voice lacks the confidence it normally has. When I don’t reply, he continues. “I’m sorry you’re running late this morning. I’m sure Tyler will understand. Please call me when you get to work so I know you made it safe.”

I nod and Devon bends down and kisses me on the cheek. My body must have a mind of its own because suddenly I’m reaching up and wrapping my arms around his neck and drawing his face to mine.

I’ll never forget the feel of his lips, the way mine began to tingle, or how my body began to hum. When his tongue brushes across my lips, begging them to give him access, I moaned into his mouth, granting him permission.

The room fades away, work a distant memory, as Devon’s hands begin to roam my body. His touch is electric, his fingers leaving goosebumps behind as he explores.

When my legs bump against the bed I smile, breaking our kiss. Devon pulls back, his breathing ragged, the motion of his chest rising and falling rapidly the first thing I notice.

“Sick day,” he suggests.

Before I can answer him, his lips crush mine and we’re falling backward onto the bed.

The second thing I notice is how badly Devon is shaking as he attempts to keep his body from crushing mine. That is, until I pull him down on top of me, wrapping my legs around his waist. When our bodies meet, I moan loudly.

Our little make-out session has revved his engine. Mine, too, if I’m being honest. The only difference is that he can’t hide how aroused he is under the thin pair of running shorts he’s wearing.

“Justine,” he groans as he grinds against me. “I… I don’t want to pressure you.”

My dress is hiked up around my waist. I’m lying beneath him on the bed. My legs are wrapped around him, pulling him to me, and my lips are connected to his unless one of us is speaking.

Not to mention, I started this.

I’m beginning to wonder who’s pressuring who.

Pushing up on the palm of his hands, he looks down at me, making eye contact. His eyes are hooded, I’m sure a mirror image of my own.

“This, our first time together, should be special, not a quickie before you bolt out of here to go to work.”

He has a valid point. One that I would probably agree with if I was of sound mind right now and not letting my body speak for me. My willpower is lost as I pull him back to me, but he’s stronger than I am. Physically and mentally.

As I back out of Ryder’s driveway, Devon waves from the front door. The house was empty by the time I fixed my hair, Ryder and Emerson already on their way to the office.

The thought of calling in crossed my mind. It was floating around up there with the thoughts of stripping Devon naked and begging him to take me. Every dirty thought I’ve ever had was on the tip of my tongue, but I saw the look on his face. Either he was scared of how quickly things moved this morning, or he really does care that our first time is special.

So as I drive to work, I try not to feel like a slut.

Because I’m not.

A true slut would have fucked Devon last night and again this morning. Then, she would have left before he woke up. A slut doesn’t care, she can’t. She’ll get hurt if she does. For her, it’s all about the sex.

For me, a non-slut, it’s about much more than that.

It should be about love, but it’s too soon for that. Sure, I like him, probably more than I should at this point. He’s kind and sweet and making an effort to get to know me. But it’s not love.

I can only attribute my predatory actions to lust. I’m in lust with him. That doesn’t surprise me. He’s hot. His body is a work of art. One tiny peek at it and I wanted to jump his bones.

This can’t be just about attraction, though. Not if it’s going to be more than a passing fling. Sure, I need to get laid. It’s been far too long since my body has felt any type of sensation not brought on by my battery-operated boyfriend.

The thought makes me frown as I pull into the parking garage. Looking down at the clock on my dash, my frown turns into a panicked grimace when I realize I’m over an hour late. I need to stop focusing on Devon and hustle up.

Exiting the elevators, Helen’s head pops up over her desk and she greets me with a warm, yet curious, smile.

“Good Morning, Miss Justine.”

“Good Morning, Helen. Is Tyler in his office?” I ask, looking to his closed door down the hall.

“He is. His conference call should be ending in about ten minutes if you need to speak with him.”

Conference call. I completely forgot. He may not have even noticed I was missing at this point. That would be amazing.

As I get settled, my eyes drift to the flowers Devon sent earlier this week. They’re starting to wilt a little, the petals threatening to fall. Picking them up, I head into the break room to change the water and hopefully salvage their beauty for a few more days.

When I return, Tyler is at my desk, searching through files.

“Good Morning,” I say, attempting to sound cheerful and innocent. My voice betrays me, coming across as hesitant.

“Hey, I need a few files from you, and I can’t seem to find them,” he replies, looking over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Great. Why?”

“You look concerned about something.”

Damn. Not only has my voice betrayed me but now my face. It’s probably better to confess than let him find out later that I was late. He’s not a tough man to work for, always fair and understanding. I’ve never given him a reason to be otherwise, so why test his limits if it’s not necessary.

“I overslept this morning and was late. I’m really sorry,” I blurt out.

“I know. Emerson told me you would be when I saw her earlier.”

Emerson told him. Emerson knew I was at the house? Of course she did, I parked in the driveway. Not exactly stealthy. More like a neon sign.

Look at me! I’m sleeping over!

“Oh, well, I wasn’t planning on being late, so I guess I’ll stay and make up the time this afternoon.”

“I thought you were taking a half day?”

“I was going to, but there’s still a lot to do.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still leave early, Justine. You never take time off. It’s really not a big deal. As long as you finish everything that needs to be done, feel free to leave. I need you to start by finding these files,” he says, handing me a post-it note with three names on it.

After pulling all three files, I take them to Tyler and head back to my desk to get started on my to-do list. By lunch, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and text Devon to let him know when I’ll be out.

Good question. I told Audra I was out of town for the weekend, so I can’t go home. I’ve essentially committed to staying with him the entire weekend.

Reading his message over and over again, I’m not sure how to reply. I can feel my cheeks heat at the memories of this morning. Yes, we have unfinished business. Yes, I’d love to finish what we, I, started this morning. Now that I’m not in the moment and I’m thinking about it, I’m not as confident as I was a few hours ago.

Releasing my lip, I look around the office. How in the hell did he know what I was doing?

I’m sure he will. Hopefully in only the gym shorts I left him in this morning to handle the big ‘problem’ I left him with. I thought about offering to help relieve him, but he pushed me out the door.

Smiling to myself, I focus on my next task so I can get out of here. Tyler’s next client should be here in fifteen minutes and the file needs to be complete. After gathering all the information, I slide into his office and hand it to him.

“Looks great. You can take off if you want. I can show him in,” Tyler says, closing the folder and leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll wait. He should be here any minute.”

“He’s here right now,” a familiar voice says from behind me.

My back stiffens, eyes widening in surprise, as my knees threaten to buckle. Grabbing hold of Tyler’s desk, he eyes me suspiciously, so I force myself to stand again, praying my legs hold out long enough to carry me from the room. The familiar scent of his cologne, the same cologne I used to put in his stocking at Christmas time, assaults my senses. The scent that used to fill the bathroom after he took a shower. I’d always stick my head in and take a deep breath, relishing the way he smelled.

Now the scent makes me nauseated.

Turning around, I find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, smirking at me. The lack of surprise on his face causes a feeling of uneasiness to wash over me.

This cannot be happening.