Warmth stroked Elle to waking. She blinked, holding a hand over her eyes as she sat up. A sheet fell from her breasts, gathering in soft folds around her lap.

Where the hell—?

A hand slipped over her thigh, squeezing her.

Lurid memory rushed back like a physical force. She inhaled sharply, turning to look at Blake. He blinked up at her, hair mussed and lips twitching into a faint smile.

“Morning already?” he murmured.

He sat up beside her, one hand propping himself up, the other dragging through his hair.

God — how hadn’t she noticed how damn attractive he was? Now, with the morning light picking brazen highlights in his hair, and his eyes squinted, he looked like an underwear model twenty years after the fact.

Still squinting at her, he gave her a long, slow smile. The sunlight made the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes deeper. Somehow… sexier.

“Coffee?” This in a voice rasping with sleep.

Elle’s breath came out in a rush. “Please.”

Blake grinned at her as he slid his legs over the side of the bed. He had a few faded tattoos on his shoulders, muscles that coiled as he stretched. A strip of pale white skin over his ass. Elle wanted to avert her eyes, but she stared instead. Faint half-moons stood out in angry red on that pale ass.

Her nails.

She allowed herself a small smile, and fell back into the bed, snuggling into its soft warmth. Watching Blake as he walked — naked and seemingly unashamed — to the kitchen to make them coffee. The view she had of his ass and thighs disappeared behind the kitchen counter.

“Did you know condoms expire?”

Those words snapped Elle from her happy place like a rubber band. She sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest.

“They what?”

Blake glanced over at her, scratching absently at his chest as he flicked on the percolator.

“Condoms. I had a pack in my bathroom. Something made me turn it over. Expires in a month’s time.” He nodded, as if this was the most interesting thing in the world.

“So we… did it—”

He laughed then, turning to face her and putting his palms on the table.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’m sure you’re not pregnant or anything.”

Her face went hot. She wanted to be pissed off for that comment, but instead, those words had served her a picture-perfect image of her holding open her mouth for Blake’s cum.

What the hell had she been on?

Well, lust, obviously. She’d never — ever — felt as turned on as she had last night.

“So, about your car.”

Elle tried to release her grip on the sheets. “What about my car?”

“I don’t see a problem giving it back to you. I mean, it’s not like you’re going to run away without paying, right?”

Elle shrugged. “I could.”

He lifted his head from the coffee machine, and gave her a lopsided smile. “You could, could you?”

“Yeah.” Elle straightened her shoulders. “You don’t know me.”

“You’re right.” Blake’s expression turned serious then. “But I do know where you stay.”

“You don’t,” she said.

“I do.” Blake glanced around his loft. “And you’re welcome here for as long as you need a place.”

Elle stared at him. “But… you don’t know—”

“I don’t have to.” It was Blake’s turn to shrug.

“You don’t have to?” She could hear the cynicism dripping from her words and tried a small laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Blake turned away, busying himself at the coffee machine for a few seconds before shrugging again. He glanced at her over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. “When I was young, my mother used to take me to a coffee shop around the corner from our house.” He paused, giving his lips a quick swipe with his tongue and turning his back to her again. “We used to watch the people — those that walked by, those that came in for coffee — for hours at a time.”

Elle straightened on the bed, drawing the sheets to her neck. The loft was warm, but Blake’s quiet words sent a small chill through her. Just him and his mom? Where was his dad in this equation?

“She was a psychology major, but never practiced. Too busy mothering, I guess. Anyway… she used to tell me all about people — the good kind, the bad kind. How you could tell. Body language, the way people spoke, stuff like that. Got pretty good at reading people.”

Another shrug, and then Blake turned to her again, resting his hip against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. He gave her a slow, easy grin.

“Long story short — let’s just say, I know people. And I think you’re one of the good ones.”

She blinked hard, forcing away sudden tears. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” he said, his grin turning wicked.

Blake came around the counter. Her eyes dropped down. Flashed up to his face again.

“We have ten minutes.” He crawled onto the bed, prowling toward her like a tiger. “Think I can make you come before our coffee’s ready?”

“Doubt it,” Elle said, squirming into the pillows behind her as Blake advanced on her. “It usually takes me about fifteen.”

Blake cocked an eyebrow at her. “Interesting. But I doubt you were using your tongue.”

And, with that, he tugged down the sheets.

Elle tried to escape him, but he held her down and ignored her giggled — and then breathless — protests.

The coffee was ready long cold before Blake was done with her.