She was in and out of the shower in record time, running to drag on clothes when she heard the voice coming from the living room. Mother fuck me. That was Becky. At eight thirty in the goddamn morning.

Frantically, Malia's mind searched for what she'd left out in the living room that was identifying. But she couldn't think of anything. She'd worked in bed last night. Her backpack was next to the bed. Her phone was next to the bed.

Malia dragged on her panties. Shoved her arms into the straps of a bra as she strained to listen. And furthermore, how was she supposed to get out without being seen?

Outside the room, she could hear Becky talking to Zephyr. "You got some coffee? I didn't have any before I came out. I had all these amazing ideas for the product this morning." Her voice trailed as she likely went to the kitchen. Jesus Christ, Malia had completely underestimated this girl. Once dressed in a sweater dress, Malia slipped on her shoes. Now what? It wasn't like she could walk out there, fresh from the shower with her hair wet. Her jacket was out there though. It was hanging in the closet so not likely to be seen, but she still needed it. The mornings were getting chillier. Well, you can't go get it now. So what do you do? She didn't really have much choice, at least that's what she told herself when she grabbed Zephyr’s hoodie from the back of the chair in the bedroom, pulled it on, and tugged at the zipper.

With her backpack slung over her shoulder, she opened the sliding glass door onto the balcony that led to the fire escape. Was she seriously slinking out of her own house? Hey, silly girl, not your house. Hell, he wasn't even her boyfriend. She was a squatter. The sooner she realized that, the better off she'd be.

Yeah, she would be better off if she could just realize that and ignore how he made her feel. Just a few short months and now she relied on him for everything. And that terrified her. So as she tiptoed down the fire escape, she tried to perform triage on her emotions.

But with every step she knew she was lying to herself. Because she'd already fallen in love with Zephyr Donovan. By the time she made it to class, she knew two things. Well, make that three things.

One, Zephyr smelled fucking fantastic. He was everything she could possibly want from someone that she was with, besides just the smelling-really-good part. Two, he was kind. And three, he was genuine. The way he was with Trevor almost broke her heart.

But that was her fatal flaw. She believed that she could have that. Have a great guy. Play house with him in his fabulous apartment. She believed that could be the truth. But it couldn't be. Because at the end of the day, she would pay for breaking the rules.

This was all her fault. This was what happened when she got too close. She wanted things she had no business wanting. It didn't matter that her sister had told her that he called her to check on her personally. Or that she got an email today from her sister's school, saying that the admission fees had been paid. She'd intended to pay them, but he'd done that for her.

By the time she got to campus, she was resolute. They needed to clear the air. She liked being around him; liked knowing that she would come home to him every day, order some food together, or cook, or just read. She loved him. She was getting distracted. He was distracting her. She'd allowed him to get under her skin. She'd started to believe the lie. Matter of fact, it might be a good idea to just call Emily and stay with her for a couple days until she could sort through her feelings. No one else was in class when she arrived. She could survive this.

Of course the first person in class was Becky. Their gazes locked immediately, and the other girl gave her a smug smile. Had something happened after she'd left? Malia's gut twisted.

She had no idea what Zephyr was thinking. Why couldn't he see where she was coming from? She didn't want to fight with him.

You hurt him. Shit. That hadn't been her intention, but he wasn't thinking. They couldn't just play house forever. Eventually she would have to grow up and take care of her own life.

Once class started, tension rolled through the room like a storm cloud. During Zephyr's part of the lecture, she raised her hand, and he didn't call on her. Another time, when he did call on her she started to answer, but he cut her off and got someone else to answer. Heat suffused her cheeks.

What the hell was his problem? While he glowered, next to her, Becky looked extra happy. Bitch.

After the fellows were done, Professor Lipten asked them to break into their groups. By now this was old hat, but considering how they'd left things, she was nervous. When the group was smaller, Zephyr brought up the notes from the last presentation. Things to work on, how to improve. When he got to her name, he decided yeah, she did fine.

Fuck that noise. "What do you mean fine? I'm sure Mr. Tanashi had feedback or something."

Zephyr locked gazes with her. "He said you were fine."

"You realize that as your mentee, I'm going to need more feedback than fine. Unless you’re deliberately sabotaging my chances?"

Her teammates slid each other worried glances and avoided direct eye contact. Zephyr glared at her hard. "Really? If you must know, your timing needs work. You want to follow through when you make your deliveries. But otherwise, passable.”

It felt like someone hit her with a bucket of ice.

"Passable?"

Zephyr gave her a sharp nod. "Yes, passable. If you think Mr. Tanashi is the kind to give praise, you're wrong." That hadn't been what he said last night. Last night he'd told her how great she'd done. Had he been lying, or was he just being vindictive now? She had no way of knowing. Which of his reactions was correct and based on her performance?

See, this is why you don't date your mentor.

Before she could help it, the words ran out of her mouth. "Well, my performance reflects leadership. So I suppose we need to work on how I can perform better next time.”

Her teammates snickered and fidgeted in their seats. Becky's mouth hung open. Pure fury etched on his brow and around Zephyr's full, normally sculpted lips. He was pissed. Well, let him be pissed. And maybe finally, the two of them would be on the same page.

Zephyr narrowed his gaze at her. “Meet me in Lipten’s office after class. Then we can discuss my leadership.”

Becky winced. Tom immediately averted his gaze.

She was so screwed. Staying with him was the worst idea she’d ever had.

* * *

Malia turned on Zephyr the moment they were in Lipten’s office. “Your office still being used for office hours?”

“Yeah.” He locked the door behind them. Lipten’s office had a tiny reception area that led into a barely bigger inner office.

The timbre of his voice had her body softening, ripening for his touch. He was right. She did want him. But that was an always kind of situation. But like hell she was going to concede the point she was trying to make. “Is there a reason you’re being an asshole today?”

“Yeah, my girlfriend bailed on a conversation we were having.”

“I did not bail. I—”

Zephyr crushed his lips to hers. No exploratory gentle slide but a desperate, needy one. One hand slid up her back for the zipper of the dress and the other skimmed her torso. With every slow inch his hand traversed, she sucked in another puff of air.

With his thumb, Zephyr teased the underside of her breast. She moaned. Her breathing came in shallow gasps as he teased her.

Too hot and frustrated, Malia arched her back in an effort to force his hand where she wanted it to go. She groaned as his fingers teased the exposed flesh just under her nipple.

She tore her lips from his. “Damn it, Zephyr—”

“Tell me to stop, Malia. You going to run again? I’m getting really fucking tired of chasing you.” He shut her up with another soul searing kiss. His thumb finally traced over her nipple in slow deliberate circles.

Malia’s knees shook and the foggy haze of lust clouded everything except where she needed his hands. Mentally willing him to hurry, she sent every subliminal message she could think of directing him to her erogenous zones.

My other breast. My back. Behind my knee. Please, please, please, between my legs.

As he held her mouth captive, it was the best she could do. She tried tugging his head downward, but the stubborn fool wouldn't budge. Instead, he kept sucking on her tongue and making her insane with need. He was too good at this. This was their kryptonite. At the end of this it would be their chemistry that finally set their worlds on fire. And not in a good way.

“Zephyr, just—”

“Turn around, Malia.”

A shiver ran up her spine and she did as she was told.

Gently, he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she keened. Her center grew wet and slick as she involuntarily rocked her hips into him.

“Fuck, you’re soft.”

As he trailed an open-mouthed kiss over her collarbone and down the center of her chest, she didn't give a damn. All that mattered was getting his hot mouth on her breasts as quickly as humanly possible.

He smoothed his hands down her back, his fingers tracing over her skin, and his lips following the path already traveled.

When his thumbs reached the fabric of her thong, he hooked them into the elastic.  With aching slowness, he dragged them down her legs. She barely heard the guttural command. “Step out of them.”

Holy hell. There was something so freeing about jumping off the deep end, with this man in particular. She did as he told her and he flung the panties somewhere behind them. Smoothing his hands back up her legs, he again followed the path of his hands with his lips, stopping along the way to give a tiny love bite on one of her butt cheeks and then kiss the tiny injury.

Up along her back, he used his tongue, making her wiggle and squirm as he explored each hollow and dip. With one hand, he scooped her hair away from her shoulders. Behind her, she could hear the clinking sound of his belt and she held her breath. Oh God, why was he torturing her?

There was the sound of rustling fabric that she could only assume was him removing his pants and boxers. She tried to swallow around the sawdust in her mouth.

Zephyr kissed her nape again and whispered against her skin as he slid both hands around her body. One hand cupped her breast and the other traveled a path over her belly to the juncture between her thighs.

Behind her, his bare chest pressed into her back, and his cock nudged her behind. All she could hear over the rush of lust laden blood in her ears were snippets of his whispers “So fucking beautiful … can’t think ... making me ... so hot …”

And then he slid an exploratory finger between her lips and he cursed low. He slipped a finger inside her and they both groaned. Malia dropped her head back against his shoulder and widened her stance, giving him easier access. He penetrated her slowly, increasing the pleasure, then retreating and bringing her down. He teased her plump breast and nipped at her neck. Unsteady on her feet, she swayed.

His heat surrounded her and all she wanted to do was snuggle there forever. She felt safe and desired and this close to bliss.

“Brace your arms in the doorway.”

He slid his fingers from her, leaving her feeling bereft and empty. She wanted him back.

He stepped away for a moment and she heard the tearing of foil and the soft thump of cotton hitting the floor again. And then he was back, his searing heat scorching her. “Legs wider, push that pretty ass out, sweetheart.”

He splayed a hand low on her belly, urging her to cant her hips toward him. With his other, he guided himself to her slick entrance. Malia held her breath, waiting, her legs trembling as pure, unbridled need drove every action, every decision.  

With the first inch, he exhaled slowly and deliberately. He retreated, then slid inside even further.

Jesus, he was so big. Malia squeezed her eyes tightly at the pleasure spiraling inside her. The easy slide made her moan. The feel of him deep inside had her wishing he would move faster and stop trying to kill her with pleasure.

When he sank all the way in, he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “Jesus Christ, I think you’re going to kill me.”

“Zephyr—” She pushed her hips into him and his feral growl was all the answer she needed.

He drove into her with the desperation of a starving man. His voice was thick as he rasped, “So fucking tight. More, I need more.”

“Yes. God, yes.”

He kept taking her to the edge, teasing her clit with his deft fingers, then bringing her down slowly again. Malia lost track of how many times he took her to the edge, but she was ready to break.

It wasn’t until he nipped her ear and growled, “I love you,” that she broke.

The orgasm started at the base of her spine and built. Step by step until she couldn’t hold on anymore. As she cried out and shook in his arms, he increased the pressure on her clit and held on tightly to her breast as he drove into her. Three strokes later, his body jerked behind hers.

As he came, her name tripped off his tongue over and over again. “Malia, Malia, Malia …”

Malia lost track of how long he held on to her. Minutes, hours? When he disengaged, she stood there for a moment. What the hell had just happened?

On shaky legs, Malia released the doorjamb, and then silently got dressed.

Zephyr reached for her, but she avoided his touch. “Malia, I—”

She shook her head. “I can’t right now. Just—” But there was nothing to say.

Once she was dressed, she grabbed her bag and left him in the office. She needed to breathe.