The sun isn't even up yet as I hoist myself up the vine leading up to Clarissa’s room. In the tree directly behind me, birds chirp like hoard of gossipy little sparrows.

Must be mating season.

Once I get to her window, I think about tapping it to wake her up. That way I won't scare the shit out of her when I appear in her room barely after half past four a.m.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window before I pull it open to sneak inside. Hell, I'd be scared of me if I didn't know me. I'm covered in tattoos, jacked as fuck, and scarred up from the many fights I've been in over the years. Plus I probably still smell like smoke and alcohol since I just closed down the bar barely thirty minutes ago.

I slide the window up slowly, silently, then follow that with the screen. Before I scissor inside, I stare at her like a fucking creep.

She breathes deeply, her blonde hair ruffling ever so slightly from the air she blows out. Her cleavage creeps out of her black nighty, and I even spot that birthmark on her right breast that I was licking two nights ago as she rode me to an orgasm in the bar.

Yeah, that’s right. We fucked in my bar after closing time. It’s one of the benefits of, well, having a friend with benefits that you work with. Especially when she’s such a goodie two shoes. No one ever suspects she’s hooking up with the black sheep of Blackwell.

I don't give a fuck what anyone says. Clarissa Hanks is the hottest girl in all of Blackwell.

She even sleeps like a proper fucking good girl. Her arms are at her sides, hair down behind her, her cheek gently tilted toward the window.

If her mom knew that she and I were friends with benefits, she'd throw a fit. She comes from old money. Went to a private school.

She's the exact opposite of a girl who should be hooking up with the damn bad boy bartender of Blackwell.

I’m inside her room now. We’ve got to be quiet since her mom’s room is next to hers. I yank off my black t-shirt, shoes, and jeans, and slide under the covers so I’m next to her.

She’s a heavy sleeper, and I take advantage of that fact. I linger for a moment, savoring the heat emanating from her body without me even touching her skin.

She sleeps with a smile on her face. My cock rapidly expands in my boxers, and I can’t fucking believe this is what she wanted.

This is Clarissa’s fantasy.

To fuck a bad boy in the morning before the sun’s even up, and to have me leave before the sun breaks the plane of the horizon.

I turn on my side and inch closer to her. I’m so hard, and I can’t wait to touch her. I run my hand through her hair and kiss her cheek. She opens her eyes slowly at first, then they go wide.

“Mason!? Holy shit, Mason!” She wraps her arm around my back. “You’re...fucking here...how the fuck did you get in here? What time is it?”

I smirk and run my hand along her jawline, from her ear to her chin. “I have my ways.”

“Goddamn. I mean when I told you this was my fantasy...I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” She runs a hand through my hair. “My heart is racing. Feel it.”

She takes my hand and puts it on her breast bone. “Holy shit. Why?”

She blushes. “I don’t know, maybe because a tattooed, grown-ass man just snuck into my mother’s house in the middle of the damn night. You’re lucky.”

“Oh, I’m the lucky one now?”

“Yeah,” she tilts her cute little head. “I'da called the cops on anyone else. But with you...why do I trust you so much, Mason?”

I shrug. “Beats the hell out of me, but I’m just going to go with it.” I hover my body over hers and lay a heavy fucking kiss across her mouth, exploring every inch of her sensuous mouth with my tongue.

“We were pretty drunk when I explained this fantasy to you,” she says when our mouths separate for a moment. “Did you remember...everything I said to you?”

I scoff. As drunk as I can get sometimes, when it comes to Clarissa, there isn’t one fucking word she has uttered that I’ve forgotten. “I think we’re going to need to get this nighty off, and I’ll let you be the judge.”

I slip kisses down her chest, stomach, and legs before I dive between her legs, under the covers. She stifles her moans, and all I can hear is her breath and the morning birds singing in the tree outside the window.