I could have sworn I heard him say my name…

“Becket?” I knock again. There’s no answer, but the light shining beneath the door leads me to believe he’s still awake.

God, I feel like an idiot. Standing here, freshly showered, I’m clad in only the plush bathrobe that hung on the back of my bathroom door. The idea of sleeping nude in Becket’s guest room seems a little indecent.

Unless I was sleeping beside him, of course.

The thought plagues me, further proving this man manages to send me down the proverbial rabbit hole. Because I never stay the night at a guy’s place; never share the same bed.

“I just need a T-shirt and some boxers,” I mumble to myself before I reach to gently rap my knuckles on his bedroom door one more time. Except I don’t make contact with the wood door.

Becket draws it open, and he’s standing before me, clad in only a towel wrapped around his waist. I take in the sight of him, allowing my eyes to travel up his body. A few droplets of water cling to the tanned skin of his chest and his broad, muscled shoulders. There’s a small tattoo over the center of his chest I can’t quite make out. His hair is damp from his shower, appearing even darker in color. But it’s his eyes that catch me by surprise, the mischievous sparkle within the depths.

“If I had a penny for every time a beautiful woman wearing a bathrobe knocked on my door…”

I slant him a look and raise an eyebrow.

He just laughs. “I’d now have a penny.” Sobering, he tips his head to the side. “What do you need?”

“I, uh, wanted to see if I could borrow something to sleep in.”

He immediately looks remorseful. “Sorry, I’m an idiot.” Backing away from the doorway, he waves a hand, gesturing for me to step into his room. “Come on, I’ll find you something.”

Tentatively, as if I’m stepping into the lion’s den, I enter. Becket turns and heads toward a large dresser, and I take advantage of this moment to appreciate the play of the muscles in his back as he moves. Even beneath the towel, there’s no disguising his powerful glutes.

“Quit checking out my ass.”

I jerk my eyes up, startled. “I wasn’t,” I say haughtily and trail after him.

He draws to a stop at the dresser and turns, amusement etching his features. When he leans in close, the scent of his body wash fills my senses. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t checking me out,” he challenges. His voice is slightly raspy, sending shivers down my spine.

Frantic, I glance over at his dresser, and the detailing captures my attention. “Oh, wow.” I immediately know he made this by hand. I reach out and stroke the ornately carved design along the edges of the dresser. “This is beautiful, Becket.”

“Thank you.” He offers me a smile that strikes me as almost bashful. It’s such a bizarre quality, considering this man is well over six feet tall and has his face plastered on city buses and graces the covers of magazines.

He slides a drawer open and pulls out a folded T-shirt along with a pair of boxers for me. I accept them gratefully and thank him before I turn to leave.

Curiosity gets the best of me when I reach the doorway because I pause and turn. I’m caught off guard to find him so close behind me. “When I first knocked, I could’ve sworn you said my name.” There’s a questioning lilt to the end of my words.

Becket grimaces, and he scrubs a hand along his jawline. “Yeah, about that…” A faint flush spreads across his cheekbones. And it dawns on me.

“Becket Jones,” I tease with a grin. “Were you—?”

“Look at the time!” He places his hands on my shoulders and steers me toward the hallway. “Have a good night.”

I dig in my heels while sputtering, “Wait!”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” He releases his hold on me once I’m over the threshold. “Fine. I’m a damn perv, and I was…”

I spin around. “You were…” I prompt, my lips tugging upward, stretching into a smug smile. “Thinking of me?”

He squints at me, the edges of his mouth twitching. “A gentleman never tells.”

I close the distance, placing my palm flat against the hard wall of his chest. He hisses at the contact, and his body heat radiates beneath my hand. “Maybe I want you to tell.”

Becket lowers his face and whispers, his hot, minty breath washing against my lips. “Let’s just say I thought of you while I was in the shower and leave it at that.” He leans back as if gauging my response.

I nibble my bottom lip as a surge of arousal strums through me and stare up at him. “Was it hot?” I whisper. “Like the other night, when we…talked?”

A short, throaty laugh escapes his lips. “You’re not trying to make this easy, are you?”

I raise my eyebrows suggestively. “Oh? Am I making it hard?”

He groans. “Ivy.”

I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to the base of his throat. “I like when you say my name like that.”

His hands move to my damp hair, tangling his fingers in the strands. “Ivy.” He dips his head to bring his mouth to my ear and whispers huskily, “Just so you know, I’m not putting out tonight.”

I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up, bursting free. Leaning back slightly, I gaze up at him. “Is that so?”

He winks smugly. “Yep.”

“Well, then…” I tip my head in the direction of my bedroom down the hall. “Guess I’ll head back to that big”—I take a step backward—“lonely bed.” With a dejected sigh, I offer him my most endearing sad look.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head and tsks at me. “You did not just break out the sad puppy dog eyes.”

I flash him a wide-eyed look of exaggerated innocence and back down the hallway. “Did I?”

His mouth stretches into a smile that screams mischief. I’m a split second too slow, attempting to turn and rush to the haven of my room when he surges toward me. I laugh with surprise when he catches me around the waist, and I drop the borrowed clothes to the floor. His muscled arms hold me firmly even as I struggle.

Suddenly, he freezes, his mouth at my neck. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit, what?” I whisper cautiously.

“My towel just fell.”

My lips form the shape of an “O.”

“I’m going to back away slowly. Be a lady and don’t look, okay?”

I roll my eyes. He can’t be serious. “Sure thing.” Pfft. As if.

His arms slacken, and he turns to grab the fallen towel. I whirl around and catch sight of the tightest, finest ass I’ve ever encountered.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

He spins around, holding the towel to his crotch, and I frown at him for taking away that incredible view. “You said you wouldn’t look.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You have got to be the only man who doesn’t want to flaunt his stuff in front of me.”

He rears back. “I beg your pardon? It’s not just ‘stuff.’” He glances down at his crotch and speaks in an exaggerated whisper, “Don’t listen to her. You’re so much more than ‘stuff.’”

I shove at him with a laugh, and he grins, allowing me to steer him back against the wall. “Becket.”

“Ivy,” he parrots.

Our eyes lock and something shifts. I realize I’m standing between his legs with nothing but his towel and my robe between us. Heat radiates from his body, and I fall captive to his darkening gaze. I drop my eyes to his lips, and my own part when I distinctly recall how they felt on mine. I realize just how desperately I want his lips on mine once again. I’ve never had such a visceral reaction to a man before.

“Who are you?” I whisper with a hint of wonder in my voice.

He appears contemplative. “Hmm, I don’t know.” His expression turns hopeful. “An average-looking guy who happens to look decent in a football uniform?”

My laughter can’t be contained. He grins, and his lips part to likely spout off another wisecrack. Helpless to the undeniable way I’m drawn to him, I act fast.

I lift to my toes and fit my mouth to his, ignoring the warning bells in the back of my mind that I’m breaking too many of my own rules. That I’m allowing myself to be far too vulnerable to this man.

I ignore everything aside from the way Becket’s lips feel against mine. My hands move to clutch his shoulders while he allows me to take control of the kiss. When I toy gently with his bottom lip, tugging it between my teeth, something snaps within him.

He releases the towel he’s been clutching to cradle my face with both his hands. His fingers sink into my hair, and he tilts my head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside to tangle with mine. I can’t seem to get close enough, my hands gliding over his firm body. When I skim my palms down his sides and veer off to grip his ass, he makes a hoarse sound deep in his throat.

Suddenly, he shifts our positions, pressing my back against the wall to cage me in with his hard body. I part my legs to allow him to nestle his body between, and my robe parts. The moment his bare flesh meets mine, our combined groans fill the silence. The kiss turns more feverish, his tongue darting against mine, and I shift my hips against his impossibly hard cock.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine, our breathing labored. His eyes are closed, and his chest rises and falls with ragged breaths.

“Trying to take advantage of me, huh?” He lightly drags his cheek against mine. “Think I’m easy prey?”

“Why don’t we head to your bedroom and find out?”

He stills for a beat, then leans back to peer down at me. His expression is sober, no traces of earlier humor. He traces my bottom lip with the pad of his calloused thumb, and his eyes follow its motion before rising to lock with mine. “I’m not having sex with you.”

Why not? I don’t voice my question, but it must show on my face because the edges of his mouth hitch upward.

He grabs his towel, wraps it around his waist, and walks back to his room without a backward glance. When he arrives at his doorway, he pauses briefly.

“Because, Ivy Hayes, I’m the guy who wants more.”