We left the dining room, passed the small front desk, and as we rounded the stairs, Joel took my hand as if he was going to lead me up to his room—or was afraid I’d flee. His fingers barely touched mine before he dropped my hand, not saying anything.

Such a little thing. A small gesture that could have a billion different meanings. Or none at all. For some reason, in that heartbeat of contact, I swore I felt just a bit of his need. A moment of being desperate for connection.

I shook it off. One more reason Lamont said I should’ve been the writer. I was the one with a romantic’s heart, not him.

I was probably wrong on this part too, but I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of confusion, maybe panic, cross Joel’s face right before he dropped my hand, but he turned around too quickly to be certain. When he spoke, his voice was clear, free of nerves, even free of the heat that had been present in the bar. Maybe that was it. Maybe he’d already changed his mind and wished Seth or someone else was following him to his room.

“I’ve never been in an old Victorian where the stairs don’t squeak with every step. Not to mention one that has air-conditioning.”

I tried to keep all insecurity out of my tone. “Oh, this house is a reproduction. It’s not an authentic Victorian. It was designed to the nth degree to look like one, and most of the furnishings are real.”

He paused, looking back at me. “Really?”

“Yeah. It wouldn’t even be possible for this to be an actual Victorian. Lavender Shores wasn’t founded until 1943.”

“The entire place feels like I’m stepping back in time.” He sounded tense. About architecture?

“Well, the majority of the place is craftsman and cottage style, so those were genuine to the area, kinda.” We’d started moving again, but I halted midway up the second flight. Something was off. “Joel, if you don’t want to do this…” I should have kept my mouth shut. How often did I get the chance to be naked with a man like this, whether he was really into it or not? Fuck, Kelly, pathetic much?

He paused and looked back at me again, all the heat and desire from before gone, replaced with what looked like… stress?

“There’s no pressure.”

He shook his head as if trying to clear it and moved down beside me on the stairs. “Sorry. No. I’m here for business. I’m supposed to already know Lavender Shores like the back of my hand. It’s not like me to be so unprepared, and you just highlighted what a shit job I’m doing.” He reached out, took my hand, and this time didn’t let go. His green gaze leveled on me. “I want to do this. Trust me. If I’m not going to be prepared for work, I can’t think of a better reason than you.”

He meant it. Though I could still see the strain in the squint of his eyes, the desire was back. As much as I just wanted him to fuck me, I wanted to make that expression disappear. Smooth away whatever stress caused his brow to knit and his lips tighten. Hear him sigh in relief and comfort.

Holy shit; that was not the point of a hookup. Not unless all those things could be cured by multiple orgasms.

Nevertheless, I wanted it. “Well, then, I’m your guy. I’m from one of the founding families. There’s not one bit of Lavender Shores trivia I can’t give you.” It took every ounce of willpower I had not to lift my free hand and caress the strain at his temples. “What kind of work do you do?”

“Oh, I’m with—” Joel shook his head again and barked out a laugh. “Oh my God. I’m standing on the stairs with the hottest man I’ve seen in ages, and I’m worried about work. Now, you’re offering to give me town trivia.” Another shake and he stepped closer. “No. Absolutely not.” He was the one to lift his free hand and place it behind my neck to pull me to his lips.

No stress there. No sweetness either. It was a demand. A kiss of claiming, even if just for the night. A kiss that tasted of juniper and tang. A kiss that crushed his lips to mine and had him stepping in closer until my back was against the wall. I could feel every tight curve of his body beneath his suit. Feel the hardness of his erection press against my hip. He broke the kiss with a slight lick of his tongue and rocked his straining cock against me before stepping away.

“No more work talk. Hell, no more talking at all.” There wasn’t an ounce of playfulness or hesitancy in his expression. “Okay with you?”

I nodded. It was all I could manage.

“Good.” He motioned up the stairs. “I’m at the top.”

Of course he was. The best room in the house.

We didn’t run up the stairs, but my heart pounded as if we had, and my erection made it uncomfortable to move at our quickened pace.

I had about three seconds to pause and linger in anticipation as Joel used the old-fashioned key to unlock the door. Then we stepped inside, and he closed the door but didn’t take the time to lock it. Joel’s hand returned to my neck, his lips on mine, and this time there was a breath of tenderness as his lower lip grazed mine. Despite my effort to be cool, I sighed, and I probably would’ve gone weak in the knees if he hadn’t had me pressed against a wall. Joel nipped my lip, causing me to suck in a breath, and his tongue instantly darted out to soothe and caress. He dug his fingers into the back of my neck as he moved his other hand over my body. He groaned as he palmed my chest muscles and then slid down my stomach and around to squeeze my ass. Another groan as he leaned back slightly to look at me, his pupils huge, nearly obliterating the green. “Take off your clothes.”

I’d do anything he told me.

He released my neck and stepped back. Then another step, until he was a yard away, close to the edge of the massive oak canopy bed. “Go ahead. Let me see you.”

Holy shit. I hadn’t even been able to get my hands to move to touch the man. He had me frozen. With a supreme force of will, I followed his direction and started on my belt.

“No. Your shirt.”

I looked over at him, hesitating. Feeling every bit on display, I heard a whisper of caution from somewhere beneath my desire.

“Please, Andrew. Start with your shirt.” The tip of his tongue licked his bottom lip, and his chest was heaving behind the expensive fabric. His erection was visible through the gap of his suit jacket, straining his fitted pants. He didn’t touch it. “Please, let me see you.”

Caution vanished. Joel was practically trembling with need for me. Maybe just the need to dominate a bit. But the please. Maybe not dominate too much. I started to unbutton my shirt. I was on the third one when he spoke again. “Slower. Please.”

I slowed, not doing a strip tease by any means, feeling way too insecure for that. I was good-looking—I’m not one for false modesty—but I was nothing compared to him. And even mostly clothed, I felt completely exposed. I couldn’t decide if I liked the sensation or not. I took my time with the remaining few buttons and then slowly pulled the shirt over my shoulders and down my arms. As it slid to the floor, Joel let out a shuddering breath, and his gaze wandered over my skin. Like in the dining room earlier, I could feel it as surely as if his hands were on me. Felt him skim over the muscles of my chest, pausing on the tattoo over my heart, and then moving to my six-pack and down my treasure trail to settle on the bulge in my pants. It seemed my body liked whatever this was, even if my mind wasn’t sure.

He let out another shuddering breath, and then he lifted his gaze to mine, his voice almost reverent. “My God, Andrew. You are beautiful.”

My eyes stung, sudden and fierce. I blinked them furiously, praying he didn’t notice. What the actual fuck? Seriously? I’d been called beautiful countless times, but never like that. Not once.

Joel took slow steps toward me, lifting his hands as he walked, pausing less than an inch from my skin, his gaze flicking back to mine. “May I touch you?”

“God, y-yes.” My voice broke, and when his hands made contact with my skin, I couldn’t help but cry out. I’d been wrong. His gaze on me had been nothing compared to his actual touch. Every cell buzzed and tingled; my skin felt electric. It radiated through my blood, through my body. He caressed over my pecs, slowly following the pattern of hair that made a T-shape over my chest and down my stomach, and I swear to God, I was afraid of shooting in my pants. Which had never happened, not even when I was a teenager and such things were supposed to happen in the middle of math class because the hot quarterback walked by.

I expected him to step back again, command me to take off another article of clothing. Instead, he lifted his gaze to mine once more, and his hands worked at my belt, moving much quicker than he’d allowed me to remove my shirt. I tried to read whatever was pouring out of his dark green eyes. They held so much emotion it was almost scary. Lust to be sure, but other things too. Things I couldn’t name. Joel paused once the belt was gone, and then he gripped the button of my pants. Maybe he was waiting for me to protest. I wasn’t going to.

Finally, he looked down. He unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, slid them over my ass, and then knelt on one knee as he held them at my feet, allowing me to step free. Then he did the same with my shoes and socks. He never spoke. He just moved, and my body responded. What would’ve been awkward and weird with anyone else was one of the hottest moments of my life, and I wasn’t even completely naked yet.

Joel ran his hands up my thighs, the friction on my leg hair increasing the buzzing sensation over my skin. His fingers stopped at the edge of my underwear, and he chuckled. “I had you pegged for a boxer kind of guy. Maybe a boxer-brief. But tighty-whities? That are actually white?”

“Uhm, s-sorry.” Shit.

Another chuckle, and this time I could hear the heat. “No, they’re perfect.” He lifted his right hand and ran his thumb over the tip of my erection and down the shaft. “Especially as wet as they are. Almost see-through.” He ran his thumb over my cock again, making me shudder, and then he looked up as he raised his thumb and stuck it in his mouth.

We both groaned at the same time.

He pulled his thumb free, returned his attention to my briefs, and pulled them off.

I had to be dreaming or something. It was too good, too amazing. He was too amazing. Too beautiful. Not to mention the way he touched me, the way he looked at me. Like I was, I don’t know… like I was as beautiful to him as he was to me. It didn’t even make sense.

“Holy fuck.” Joel laughed again, though without an ounce of humor. “Dude. That cock.”

Then I laughed too, though even I could hear my nerves. “Shut up.”

He grinned up at me. “Well, seriously. Damn.” He was at eye level with my dick, and he stared at it once more, leaning close, his breath warm against my tender skin, causing my erection to twitch. Enough that it bumped against his lip.

I shivered. “Touch me. Please.” I hadn’t meant to say that.

Joel didn’t. At least not with his hands. He took a deep breath and enclosed my dick with his mouth.

I sucked in a breath, and then he sank over my cock, making me cry out.

He took me in to where the tip of my dick hit the back of his throat; a hairsbreadth later, he was to my root, and my cock curved down his throat.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

Very few men had ever been able to do that. Honestly, I’d never figured a man like him would try. I thought I’d be servicing, not the other way around.

As if he couldn’t get enough, he clamped both hands over my ass and pulled me in deeper.

“Fuck!” I was probably yelling. I couldn’t tell. “Fuck, Joel! I’m gonna come! I’m gonna—”

He was off my dick so fast it hurt, and he gripped the base of my cock hard enough I cried out in pain. “No. Not yet.”

“I’ll come again if you want.” I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “But I’m about to—”

“No.” He squeezed harder and met my gaze. “No. I want you to come while I’m fucking your ass. Not before.”

I hissed out a laugh, despite the ache. “Then you probably shouldn’t say shit like that.”

There was that wicked grin, the one from the bar. The one with all the promises.

Promises well made, it seemed.

Joel stood, never releasing his hold. “Tell me when it’s passed.” He kissed me. Rough, hard. His tongue dove into my mouth.

I could barely breathe, the sensations of him owning my mouth and controlling my orgasm nearly more than I could take.

Then his kiss slowed, even as he pulled my cock toward him, forcing me against his body; the kiss softened, his free hand back behind my head. His grip around my cock let my body know I was going to be fucked within an inch of my life, while his lips promised to make love to me until I was drunk on him.

I got lost in that kiss. The warmth, the pressure. The scratch of his stubble against my skin. The feeling of being swept away among the stars, with only his hand at the base of my skull tethering me to him.

He pulled away, with a sweet smile, the first I’d seen of that kind. Then it turned wicked once more. “You good?” He gave a little tug to clarify.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He released my dick, both of us looking down.

A small white bead of come leaked out and began to slide down.

Joel ran his thumb up my shaft and then held it between us before sucking it into his mouth, his gaze just as sinful as his lips.

Lowering both hands, he stepped away. He crossed the room then dug through a suitcase on the dresser. After a few moments, he returned, tossing lube and condoms on the bed. He gestured toward it with his chin. “Get on.”

I started to and then paused. “I want to see you naked first. You look amazing in that suit, but I’m kinda sick of seeing it.”

Joel only hesitated for a second; long enough I thought he would demand to fuck me while wearing the suit—which, now that the notion hit me, might be one of the sexiest things I could imagine. Couldn’t be better than his body though. He stripped off his jacket, his muscles rippling through the fabric of his shirt as he moved. I nearly asked him to let me do it, as he’d done me, but I didn’t want to wait any longer, no matter how hot it would be to discover him inch by inch. I wanted him naked and buried inside me.

He felt the same, apparently, taking off his clothes at breakneck speed but still managing to retain every ounce of dignity he’d displayed the entire night. If I had done the same, I’d have caught my toe in my sock and fallen over. Not Joel Rhodes. Though he was quick, I stood in awe and committed every newly uncovered piece of him to memory. His shirt went the way of his jacket, and he was as perfect as I’d pictured. More so. Thick planes of muscle covered his chest, bulged from his shoulders, and wound around his arms. His stomach muscles flexed with each movement. Every portion of him looked sculpted, and smooth as silk. I tried not to moan. I’m pretty sure I succeeded.

He noticed me staring and grinned, obviously enjoying my approval.

Then he was naked, and I was speechless. I stared slack-jawed at his erection and then looked up at him. “You were talking about my dick? Are you kidding me with that thing?”

He grinned. Cocky and proud. “Yours is longer than mine.”

“Yeah, but yours is crazy thick.”

He stepped closer. “Think you can take it?”

It would hurt. No doubt. “Hell yeah, I can take it.” I reached for it, probably desperately, and started to get to my knees.

“No. I need in you. Right now.”

I wanted to taste him, to explore. To spend hours discovering the most perfect body I’d ever seen. But I wanted the other more. I straightened and sat back on the bed and slid back as gracefully as I could manage. “How do you want me?”

“Get on your hands and knees.”

That worked for me. Doggy-style was one of my favorites. I started to turn onto my stomach, but he reached out and grabbed my shoulder. Pausing, I looked up at him.

He leaned over the edge of the bed, lowered his face to mine, eyes locking. Then he closed his eyes and kissed me. Slow and soft, sweeping me away. Making me think of Sundays spent in bed, long hours of tender lovemaking.

He broke the kiss and looked at me again. “You’re spectacular, Andrew. Unreal.”

I didn’t have a clue what to say. I nearly asked him why he was full of shit, but he wasn’t playing games. Unless his kisses were the best lies in the world.

“Turn over.”

I did. And goddamn if I didn’t arch my back and present my ass to him like a bitch in heat.

He chuckled. “Fuck. Yeah, definitely spectacular.”

There was the click of the lube bottle, then the cool slick of it against my hole, followed by the pressure of a thumb.

Even as my mind screamed for me to hold still, retain some dignity, I thrust backward, sinking his thumb into me up to the knuckle, arching my back farther in pleasure. Needing more.

Joel practically roared. “Fucking damn, man. Fuck yeah.” He pulled his thumb out. The bed shifted as he got into position behind me. “You’re the kind who doesn’t want all the one finger, two finger, stretch me out shit, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” The admission felt dirty. Like I should at least pretend to be a touch more virginal or some shit.

A bark of laughter. “That’s my man, fuck yeah.” He smacked my ass, hard. That wasn’t a sensation I typically enjoyed. I’d stopped hookups before when a guy wanted to spank me, but with him, I just arched up into it and got another one. Harder this time. I couldn’t hold back a yelp.

I loved it, but I didn’t want it again. Still, I braced myself for another slap. It didn’t come. Instead, he cursed.

“God, fuck. You’d think they’d make these easier to open.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Joel had one edge of the condom wrapper between his teeth; his slick fingers kept sliding off. Holy hell. He was human. It made him even sexier.

I reached for it. “Here, my hands are dry.”

He gave it to me with a scowl. Supporting my weight on my elbows, I ripped the wrapper open and passed it back.

I met his gaze. “Fuck me.”

Joel just grinned and slid the condom over his cock. He rose to a kneeling position behind me and smacked his erection over my entrance. Once, twice.

Though it killed me not to watch him, I turned back around, suddenly a little nervous about his girth.

There was another smack with his dick, and then he lined up.

Despite my best efforts, I pulled in a breath, trying to prepare.

Joel cupped my left asscheek and then smoothed his hand up over my back. “Just breathe. I’ll go at your pace, until you tell me you’re ready. Then I’ll go at mine.”

Oh, fuck. I’d never wanted a cock more. Never wanted a man more. The thought startled me for a moment. It was true. I’d never wanted any man as much as I wanted Joel Rhodes at this very instant. Well, whatever. We had enough hormones racing through our blood it was a good thing we weren’t in Vegas. Just enjoy the ride of a lifetime, Kelly; turn the brain back on later.

Thoughts stopped being an issue as Joel pressed the head of his dick against me. “Just breathe.”

I did.

He pushed inside and held still.

Sucking in breath, I yelled at my body to relax. Reminded it I wanted every inch of him deep in me. I nodded when I felt it obey.

He slid in more, stretching me. So much stretching. Maybe I should’ve taken him up on the finger option to start. He pushed in a little farther, and I seized up around him.

He hissed. “Oh fuck yeah, man. That is a good hole. A tight good hole.” In contrast to his words, both hands caressed and soothed my skin, sliding over my back, around my hips, and returning to my back once more. “I’ll hold still, lean back onto me. Take me in the way you want. Feel me stretch you out.”

Even as he spoke, I pushed against him, the gravel of his filthy words making me relish every sizzle of pain as he continued to thicken as I sank over him.

I could see us, like I was observing from overhead. Watching his thick cock become mine. Seeing his endless muscles ripple and bulge with the effort of keeping from turning himself loose, like I could tell he wanted to.

Then I pushed back all the way. He was mine. Every bit of him. Filling me up, stretching me out, fully and completely claiming my body.

“That’s it. Take all of me.” He groaned as he continued to stroke my skin. “Please tell me you’re ready.”

God, had I ever not been ready for this? I nodded.

“Fuck, yes.” There was a breath, and then he began. At first, long, slow thrusts in and out, lingering just a moment at the tip of his dick to allow me to breathe and then shoving back in, each new intrusion stretching me farther. Then fast and hard. Slamming into me over and over so the ancient bed creaked and shook. I arched up into him, getting him deeper.

“That’s my man. Yes, take it all.” I felt him shift over me, standing straighter, forcing my ass higher in the air, to take him in even deeper, and then his hand was on the back of my head, shoving me into the frilly bedspread and mattress.

For a split second, panic flared, but then it faded. I could breathe. It didn’t hurt. It wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t hurt.

Then he pounded. Fast and hard, the smacking of skin loud, even though my ear was covered by his palm. And oh my God, it hurt in the best possible way.

“Fuck yes!” I felt specks of sweat on my back as Joel cursed above me. “Fuck yeah, fuck yeah. Fuck yes, I’m gonna come. Take my load, man.”

“No!” I cried out, not meaning to. The second I did, Joel stopped moving. Which was the last thing I wanted. “Don’t come yet. Keep fucking me. Just keep fucking me.”