I stood in the full length mirror and marveled at the exact fit of the silky pajamas. The color was perfect against my skin and it went with my hair too. It was perplexing. But I’d given up on trying to solve the mystery that was Coco.

I walked back to the bed. The napkin with the embroidered sentiment stared back at me. Had that been my downfall all along? Was that why I’d continuously picked the wrong man? I’d always led with my head, figuring my heart would eventually catch up. Only it never did, and I ended up in relationships that left me feeling empty.

A ridiculous, completely out of my comfort zone idea popped into my head. Maybe it was time to expand that absurdly small so-called comfort zone. Maybe for once, I should lead with my heart and keep my head completely out of it.

I went to the mirror again. The pajamas were a touch conservative and, ironically enough, a whole lot provocative. They were exactly what I needed. That Coco. I unbuttoned the top button on the shirt just to expose a little more cleavage. I fluffed up my long hair to give it a disheveled, just out of bed look. Then, with bare feet and confident steps I walked out into the hallway.

Before I could let my head try and stop me, I marched straight up to Beck’s door and knocked. Lightly and tentatively, at first, but then I rapped it hard enough to sting my knuckles. There was no response. I felt as deflated as a soufflé that had been checked on once too often.

I turned to leave, and the door behind me opened. I spun back around but was completely unprepared for the half naked demigod standing in the doorway, or filling up the doorway would be more accurate. His ink art stretched on much farther than I’d first assumed. The tattoos traversed all the curves of his muscles in perfect harmony. He was like a magnificent painting that had far too many focal points to pick out just one spot to be mesmerized by. And then there was his incredible face, which could not be attributed to tattoo artists but more to damn lucky genetics.

He leaned his massive arm up against the doorframe. Something about the dark mass of hair under his arm pit and the way his bicep muscles bunched up with potential power caused heat to swirl through my belly.

I had walked over with all the confidence of a damn gladiator, but now I was speechless and feeling a little unstable.

His long, black lashes dropped down along with his gaze as he surveyed my outfit. “Damn, library lady, don’t know if I’ve ever seen a woman rock a pair of pajamas like you’re rocking those.”

“Yes, well—” I did a runway model turn for him. “And I might return the compliment. You rock those tattoos pretty well too. In fact, all of this”—I waved my hand in front of him—“is working for you.”

“How about you?”

I peered up at him. “How about me, what?”

“Is it working for you?”

I swallowed and locked my unsteady knees beneath me. “Yes,” the word squeaked out. I took a deep breath. “Did you hear that little bird chirp just now? That means it’s really working for me.”

He reached forward, took hold of my arm and pulled me into his room. The decor in the bedroom on this side of the hallway was decidedly more masculine, with a dark walnut dresser and four post canopy bed. There was a mountain of pillows and tan curtains were tied up to each post. The linens were of a green and blue tartan plaid instead of the floral prints in my room.

Beck’s big hands cupped my face, and he lifted it to his mouth, where he quickly returned to the amazing kiss that he’d left me with in the hallway. His hands slid easily beneath the watery fabric of the pajamas. He smoothed his slightly callused palms over the bare skin of my back.

“The fabric is soft,” he muttered against my lips, “but the skin is even softer. You are a damn treat from head to toe, Emmie. My cock’s been hard for you since you sashayed toward me to pick up that chalk.”

I’d never had any man speak so brazenly to me in my life, and it should have stopped me cold from what I was about to do. Instead, it had the opposite effect. I found myself nearly crumpling against him, wanting him to take me naked to his bed. My head spun with the idea of it. And the ache in my pussy became stronger with each stroke of his tongue and each caress of his hand.

He was muscle and raw power, and it seemed he could easily crush me in his arms. That difference in our size and strength not only made me feel that much more vulnerable, it made me want him that much more.

“Say no now, Em, or this is going until the end.” His voice was ragged and deep. “I need to know you want this before I give in to it.” I could feel him holding back with every ounce of his self-control.

I leaned forward and kissed his chest and his shoulder. “I want this, Beck. I want you.”