“Please pick up, Mitchell.” She held the phone in a tight grip. She huffed when she got his voicemail again.

She could feel it slipping away. The control she had. The resistance. The wall of her brain that kept her on the side of right.

“Damn it,” she muttered.

She plugged her phone into the charger next to her bed. It was close to midnight. She had spent the majority of the night making a spreadsheet for the wedding. She had three dates picked out for Mitchell to choose from. She knew if she narrowed down all the choices for him it would make things easier on him.

She walked to the bathroom and picked up her toothbrush. She brushed her teeth and turned off the light.

“Shit,” she whispered. She hadn’t turned on the timer for the coffee pot for the continental breakfast.

She debated whether it was even worth it, but she had seen Wyatt drinking coffee this morning. He was the inn’s only guest, but she shouldn’t deprive him of coffee just because she was no longer speaking to him. She opened the office door and walked into the lobby.

She had left a lamp on next to the foyer door, but the rest of the lobby was dark. She remembered when she was a little girl how she would sneak out at night to run to the kitchen for extra cookies. Those were the days when sneaking was a necessity. The inn had been full of guests.

Aly pushed through the kitchen door and turned on the light. She grabbed the canister of coffee and filters. Five minutes later she turned off the light and walked out of the kitchen. As soon as she pushed through the door, she bumped into a solid mass of wall.

“Ow,” she yelped.

She looked up. Her body seized with adrenaline. It coursed through her in fiery bolts. Wyatt stood in front of her. His chest was bare.

“Wh-what are you doing down here?” She couldn’t stop staring. There were lines and ridges along his torso.

“I heard something. I thought someone had broken in.”

She noticed he was holding a knife in his hand.

“You heard something from the fourth floor?” She looked at him for an answer, but his eyes weren’t on hers, they had dipped between her breasts. She took a giant breath, feeling her skin heat under his gaze.

She hadn’t bothered to grab a robe. Mistake one. She swallowed hard, knowing his eyes were raking over her curves. His eyes were now on her bare left hand. She had taken her ring off when she showered, and had forgotten to put it back on. Mistake two.

“You’re ok?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She nodded. She had to get back to her room. “Do you usually keep that knife on you?” The blade was long and thick.

“I didn’t want to take a chance. It was instinct to grab it. I wanted to make sure you were ok. It was all I could think about.”

She didn’t know what made him tick. Every time she thought she peeled back a layer, it was covered by another one. How could he be so protective, yet feel so dangerous?

“Thanks for taking on the burglar, but everything’s fine. I wanted to get the coffee ready for you in the morning.”

She took a step to move around him, but as soon as she inched closer, his hand slid to her waist.

Her eyes flashed upward. “What are you doing?”

But Wyatt didn’t answer. His mouth descended on hers and he wrapped his arms around her, dropping the blade to the floor with a thud. His lips tugged and sucked at the corners of her lips. She parted as his tongue slipped inside.

She groaned as his hands coasted over her hips. His tongue thrust deeper and she pulled against his neck, needing him, wanting him.

“Wyatt,” she whispered.

His hands moved to her legs and he swept her off the floor, bringing her body against his chest.

“Your room or mine?” he asked, his lips barely leaving hers.

“Mine,” she whispered.

He carried her along the corridor and through the lobby. She held onto his neck staring at the lines of his jaw. He nudged open the office door with his knee and then pushed through her bedroom door.

The TV was the only light. He kicked the door behind him, before laying her on the bed. He crawled toward her, pinning her under him.

His lips were urgent as he kissed her throat, moving to her shoulder. She felt the room spinning out of control. Every time he touched her it was as if she was pulled to him more. Each kiss seared into her skin.

Her eyes floated open and she saw the glimmer of her ring next to the bed.

“Wait, wait.” She breathed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked through kisses.

She pulled herself off the mattress. “I’m not a cheater. I’m not doing this.”

“I know you’re not.” He tipped her chin toward him. “You don’t belong to him, Aly.”

She looked in his eyes and knew it was true. “I said I would marry him. I said yes.”

She felt the sudden need to explain all the reasons she wanted to marry Mitchell, but she couldn’t think of anything other than the wedding. And a wedding wasn’t a reason to spend the rest of her life with a man who didn’t return her calls.

“Do you feel this when you kiss him?” Wyatt’s lips raked over hers. His tongue dipped in her mouth. The fire rushed through her veins.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Does it feel like this when he touches you?” His hand lifted the hem of her silk shirt, dragging the roughness of his palm over her flesh. He cupped her breast and she sighed. He pinched her nipple between his finger and thumb, rolling it back and forth.

“Ohh,” she moaned. Her head rocked back.

“Does it?” he urged.

“No,” she whispered. She could feel the tight spring in her core winding with each roll of her nipple in his grasp.

He bent toward her ear, his breath hot along her spine. “And when he fucks you, do you scream?” His hand slipped between her legs, shoving her damp panties to the side so his fingers could run between her wet folds.

“Ohh,” she moaned, her hips bucking as he danced his fingertips against her bud.

“Do you?” he growled.

Her eyes opened and she looked at Wyatt. “He’s never…we’ve never…”

He sat back on his heels “What?” He pulled his hand from between her legs and rested it on her thigh. She felt an ache where his fingers had stroked her.

“He didn’t take you to bed?”

Aly didn’t know how to interpret the look on his face. “We just haven’t.”

“I thought the man was a fucking idiot before, but now I know he is.”

Aly thought about all the nights she had wanted Mitchell to make a move. She had worn silk nightgowns like this one. She had lit candles. She had played his favorite music and bought his favorite beer. But it always ended the same way. He was too tired. He said once they got married they could focus on a healthy sex life, but right now he needed the right amount of rest. His constant rejection of her body had eaten away at her self-confidence.

“It wasn’t like that,” she explained. But how could she explain it.

Wyatt’s hands cupped her face. “God, do you know how much I want you? How much I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you?” She thought she heard his heart beating loudly from inside his chest. “You deserve more, Aly. You should be kissed and loved.” His thumb ran over her lip. “And you should be fucked and worshipped.”

She felt the quivers run over her spine. Oh God. The tightening wound harder in her core.

He kissed behind her ear. “I want you.” He kissed along her throat, his hands moving over her body. He slid the strap off her nightgown, pushing the fabric until her nipple was exposed. “I want to taste and suck every inch of you.” He lowered his head, pulling her in his mouth.

She groaned as his tongue swirled over her nipple. He bit against the flesh and she pressed the back of his head tighter to her chest.

He pulled back, planting a kiss on her lips.

“Because you were meant to be mine.” His hand moved between her legs.

She nodded, her legs opening for him. He was speaking the truth again. She could feel it in her blood, in her soul. Something under her skin was pulling her toward him.

“God, I want you,” he growled. His fingers plunged inside her and she reached for his shoulders, feeling the firm muscles flex under her hands. “But I don’t want anything between us. Or anyone.”

He pulled her panties back in place and slid the strap back on her shoulder. The heat was coursing through her. The tightening in her core was about to spill open, but he had taken his hands off of her.

“What?” She knew she was panting. Everything was hot and wet between her legs. Her nipples were straining against the silk. Her lips were burning from his rough kisses. She wanted to feel the rippled planes of his torso. She wanted to memorize the way his muscles met on his back. She wanted to explore every part of him with her mouth. God, she’d never wanted any of those things like she did right now.

He stood from the bed.

“When I take you, you’ll be mine, Aly. No other ring. No dress waiting for you to wear for another man. No date on the calendar that says you’ll be some other man’s wife. You’ll be mine.”

His giant chest heaved as if he was struggling to get the words out.

She nodded in understanding, despite the blazing flames racing through her body. He was right. And she was the only one who could make it happen.

She watched as he closed the door behind him, and she collapsed on the bed.