I take a quick, hot, steamy shower in the hotel bathroom. It’s my third shower of the day, but I feel the need for it. If I were smart, I’d be taking a cold one.

Maya has taken her things to Sam’s room, and Scott Braddock is currently in the room just beyond the bathroom door.

I didn’t lock the bathroom door. I keep expecting him to walk in, to join me in the shower. But he doesn’t. God forbid he should ever do what I expect him to do. He has been remarkably quiet since he took a punch for me, especially so after I told him he could stay in my room. Is he surprised? Probably. Was it a mistake? Should I have been more adamant about us maintaining clear boundaries? Probably. Do I regret it? Not yet.

I exit the steamy bathroom wearing a pretty silk kimono robe over my transparent white camisole and black cotton boyshorts (which are sexier than they sound), hair combed but still damp. His shirt is unbuttoned. He has removed his belt and shoes and socks. His bare feet are beautiful. He sits on the edge of one of the double beds, facing me, still and expressionless.

I slowly approach him. “Does it still hurt?”

He nods his head once, his hand slowly reaching for the belt that’s loosely tied around my bathrobe.

I slowly lean in towards him. “You want me to kiss it better?”

He nods twice.

I place a gentle kiss under his eye, on his temple, his eyebrow, his forehead. He undoes the belt of the robe and reaches a hand inside. When I feel his hand on the bare skin of my waist, it is electrifying. I let out a gasp and suddenly pull away from him. I straighten up and tie the belt up tighter. He doesn’t even blink, doesn’t smile, no emotion, just sits there and waits for me to come around.

I hate how calm he is.

My body has never felt this much desire for another body before, and my brain still cannot accept that the body I desire belongs to Scott Braddock.

For once, I am going to let my body get what it wants and take what it needs and let my brain go fuck itself.

It is infuriating that he is so calm right now. He is doing this to make it harder for me. If he’d just grab me and kiss me it would be so easy for me to just melt into him, but he’s waiting for me to come to him and I love/hate it and the only thing my body can do right now is shove him. I shove him, like an eight-year-old girl in a playground. He doesn’t give me the satisfaction of laughing or grinning, because then I could call him an asshole and shove him again.

He just patiently watches me, like a boxer waiting for his opponent to wear herself out.

He gets up and goes over to the desk, removes his wallet from his pocket, places it on the desk top, removes his watch, places it on top of his wallet, adjusts them so they are angled in an aesthetically pleasing way. Gets his phone charger out from his overnight bag, plugs it into the wall outlet, plugs it to his phone. Everything he’s doing tonight is mindful and responsible.

I’m the one who needs to be reckless.

He runs his fingers through his hair as he turns and faces me, puts one hand in his pocket, rests one hand on the edge of the desk. I stand there, facing him. I remove my robe and let it drop to the floor. He looks me up and down, taking me in with his eyes, drawing in a breath. I walk towards him, grab the lapels of his shirt, pull the shirt off of him, and we are kissing hungrily. He tastes good, a little bit minty. He must have brushed his teeth before coming to my room. His stubble is soft and I like the way it scratches against my skin. I bite his lower lip very gently and then suck on his earlobe. He finally makes a noise and it’s a groan, so deep and masculine and delicious.

He puts his hands on my ass, lifts me up onto the desk as he kisses my neck…I reach my hand down. He’s so hard and I’ve got him in the palm of my hand, literally, wanting to feel in control of this situation, but he’s such a good kisser, it’s driving me crazy that that’s all it takes to make me this wet, to want him as much as I do.

“I still hate you,” I whisper.

“I know,” he growls. “You’re going to hate me so much more when I’m done with you tonight.” He runs his hands down the sides of my legs, then up to my breasts, squeezing them, his thumbs grazing my already-hard nipples.

“Get over yourself,” I say, my hands exploring his chest. There’s something about his chest hair that is such a turn-on. He hasn’t shaved it, but it’s not particularly hairy either, it’s just the perfect length and amount of light brown upper chest hair, and I can’t stop touching it. Every cell of my body is vibrating with lust. Even my teeth are turned on. That’s a thing, right?

He leans down and softly bites the flesh of my breast, licking and sucking each nipple through fabric, before kissing me again, his tongue hot in my mouth. I squeeze my legs around his waist, feeling his hard-on against me, knowing that when it’s inside of me I will completely lose my mind.

But I want to make him lose his mind first.

I have to.

I pull my lips way from his and unzip him, shoving his pants down and grasping his big hard cock in my hand while squeezing one of his ass cheeks. Holy fuck. No wonder you’re so cocky. He starts to pull my camisole off, but I push him away. He steps out of his pants and I maneuver him back over to the edge of the bed, kneel on the floor and position myself between his legs. He exhales slowly. I remove his boxer briefs, exposing his magnificent erection.

I made you this hard. I’m doing this to you.

He grips the edge of the mattress. I look up at him, licking my lips. He holds his breath and whispers my name. I cup his balls with one hand and grip beneath the head with the other as I lick the warm tip, swirling around it with my tongue. His thighs tense up, and I feel him grow even harder, which seems impossible. I form a circle with my index finger and thumb and run it down to the base of his cock, then lick him up like an ice cream cone before putting my mouth down on him and sucking. He tastes so good. He’s clean and groomed and I could keep him in my mouth for hours.

“Oh God,” he groans, as he puts his hands in my hair. His voice is so sexy, and the way he’s gently tugging at my hair, it doesn’t feel thoughtless and needy, it feels like a scalp massage.

I could make him come in about thirty seconds if I wanted to, but with one swift motion, he pulls me up and throws me down on the bed, rips off my underwear, put one of my legs up on his shoulder and licks and kisses my inner thigh, taking his time as he approaches the impatient throbbing warmth and wetness between my legs, making me quiver with anticipation. I punch the mattress. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he says, his fingers exploring.

What he’s doing down there feels so amazing, I don’t even mind that he’s taken over. He squeezes my ass and penetrates me with his tongue. He is making sweet love to my external female sex organs with that tongue—there’s no other way to say it—I’m sorry but my brain has lost the ability to form descriptive sentences because holy cunning linguist I can’t believe that same mouth that speaks things that make me want to dropkick him is now doing things to me that makes me want to sit on his face forever.

“Oh shit,” I gasp. My body starts undulating. I stiffen up, trying to contain the energy. “Oh shit. Fuck you, Braddock.” He reaches up and under my camisole, massaging my breasts. It feels so fucking good. “Fuck you fuck you fuck you.” This is very unladylike. My hands are clenched up in fists. I feel the waves of ecstasy washing over me. This can’t be happening, not with him, not this good.

“Just let go.”

“Fuck you.”

“Let yourself go, Erin.”

I cry out, and then bite my lower lip, grunting. I could actually cry right now. My body is feeling so much right now, it’s like my eyeballs need to emit sexual secretions too. Holy shit, you’re making my eyes come, you fuck demon!

“You want me to fuck you?” His voice is deep and breathy. “You want me to fuck you now?”

I grunt.

“Was that a yes?”

“Yes,” I say. I try to raise myself up and rest on my elbows. Let’s be clear about this. “Fuck me, Braddock.”

He licks and sucks on my clit one last time, kisses my mouth, then finds a condom, and in a matter of seconds I feel the weight of him on me and he’s fucking me. I’m so tight and he’s so big and hard, and even though I’m incredibly slippery down there, it stings at first, but it hurts so good and I sigh and moan. I’ve only ever faked these porny noises before, but this is naturally what’s coming out of me now. In no time, I’ve accepted the size of him and I can move with him.

I cling to his back, scratching his skin. He grunts and holds onto the bed frame with one hand while he thrusts into me, in and out with a graceful force, and then he lowers himself down, pressing against me, finding a rhythm. My fingers run through his hair. I had to actually sit on my hands while we were working together, to keep myself from doing this. I love his hair. I love how it looks and I love how it feels.

I raise my knees and press my feet into the mattress, arching my back. He sucks in then holds his breath. He looks into my eyes. His eyes are hooded and bleary, but there’s something in them, a yearning, that shakes me to my core. I can’t look.

I close my eyes, push him back and climb on top of him. I pull off my top and move his hands to my breasts, feeling him so deep inside of me, and I ride him hard until I come screaming. As soon as I’ve relaxed, he sits up, deftly flips me around so I’m on my knees facing the headboard, and thrusts mightily until I feel his whole body tense up, and with a loud deep sexy groan, he releases into me and I experience aftershocks the likes of which I have never experienced before.

An eternity, or a minute later, I catch my breath and detach myself from him. He loosens his grip on my hips and watches me retreat to the far side of the bed. “To be clear, we are not dating.” My heart is still racing, I may still be enjoying the tail end of multiple orgasms, and I feel like such an asshole saying this, but I can’t stop myself.

His expression doesn’t change. He blinks once. “Okay.”

“That will never happen again.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

“And we will tell no one.”

“Your filthy secret’s safe with me…Non lo diro a nessuno.”

Italian. Unfair. I try to kick his leg, but I don’t have full use of my body yet. I feel like a blob of post-orgasmic flesh. I don’t want him to know how thoroughly he has satisfied me on a physical level, so I close my eyes. I can still feel his eyes on me. “Don’t stare at me, it’s creepy.”

He laughs. “That was some hot sex, Duffy.”

“Yes. You’re sleeping on the other bed, you know.”

He gets up and retreats to the bathroom and I open one eye to watch him go.

I already know that I will have sex with him again before the sun rises over San Luis Obispo. Because maybe this first time was a fluke or I just imagined how hot it was because it had been so long since I’d done it, and the next time will be terrible and that will make the next month or two of my life so much easier to get through. And maybe I’ll meet a unicorn/sexy vampire/hot single producer/director who’s even better at sex than Braddock is.