We burst out of the restaurant. Sam’s irritation is radiating off him in waves. His hands have curled into fists and his chest rises and falls — he looks like he wants to punch something, and I’m glad that it didn’t come to blows between him and Bennett back there.

I put my hand on his elbow and look up into his face. He shakes his head, and then wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to him. I instantly feel comforted, pressed against his solid warm chest.

“I’m sorry, gorgeous,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I tell him honestly. “Bennett was the one being the ass.”

“Yeah,” he says, though his tone doesn’t sound convinced. I search his face and see … guilt.

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

He runs a hand through his dark hair and sighs.

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “I just worry we pushed him too far.”

I bite my lip. Bennett clearly thinks so, but he’s a grown-up. No one forced him to do anything.

I tell Sam that, and he forces a smile. “You’re right, of course. This whole thing is just … a little out of my comfort zone.”

“Mine too,” I tell him honestly. “That’s why Bennett should have just talked to us. I know he feels vulnerable but … we all do.”

Sam nods, then gives me another squeeze. “Let’s get out of here,” he says finally. “I could still take you out on the boat, if you want.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t really feel like going out on the water now.”

Sam nods, but there’s disappointment on his face.

“Do you think we could just go back to your place instead?” I ask, biting my lip and gazing up into his brown eyes.

He grins. “Absolutely.”

* * *

A little while later, Sam is leading me up the elevator to his penthouse apartment. When the doors slide soundlessly open, I’m expecting to be in a hallway, but instead we’re right in Sam’s foyer.

“Wow,” I say, unable to keep the breathless awe out of my voice as I drop my purse on the black lacquered console table. “You own the whole floor?”

He chuckles. “I own the whole building. It was a development project from a few years ago. I was supposed to sell this unit but I ended up liking it so much I kept it for myself.”

My mouth drops open, and I shake my head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to comprehend how much money you and Bennett have,” I say.

Sam stiffens at Bennett’s name, and I instantly want to kick myself. But Sam shrugs it off.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” he asks. “Since you didn’t get to finish yours?”

“Sure. That would be nice.”

He leads me through a huge open-concept living space and into a kitchen that looks like it belongs on the set of a gourmet cooking show. From a sleek white cabinet he pulls two gorgeous goblet-shaped wine glasses.

When he’s uncorked a bottle of red, he fills up both our glasses and nudges mine over to me. We tap glasses but don’t say anything — I guess neither of us are quite sure what to toast to right now.

The wine is delicious though, and I try to relax as I let Sam lead me back into the main living space and onto one of the two plush grey sofas that face each other. He sinks down beside me and we both sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping our wine and lost in our own thoughts.

“Well,” Sam says finally. He slides his arm around my shoulders. “No point in letting him ruin our entire evening, right?” He trails his fingers along my upper arm, sending a rush of shivers through me.

“Right,” I say softly. Sam plucks my wine glass out of my hands and sets it down on the marble coffee table in front of us. His hand goes back to tracing patterns along my bare arm and then his lips find their way to my neck.

I settle into his embrace, glad to have something to take my mind off Bennett. Sam’s mouth marks a trail along my throat before coming back up to my own lips. His tongue pushes into my mouth, clashing against mine. I tilt my head back, letting him claim me with his kiss.

My hands move instinctively to his shirt, fumbling with his buttons as his kiss intensifies. I can already feel my nipples tightening, craving the feel of his hands on me. He must be reading my mind, because he paws at the top of my dress, finding the zipper in the back and eking it down and tugging it gently off my shoulders. His big hands palm my breasts through the lacy fabric of my bra, and he moves his thumb across my tight nipples.

It sends a rush of goose bumps across my skin, along with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I try to ignore my misgivings and focus instead on his kiss, on his touch, on the way my pussy is already starting to dampen.

Sam shifts, trying to get more comfortable, and instead pins my hair against the back of the sofa. I yelp.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, cradling my head.

“It’s okay,” I smile. I return to kissing him, snuggling closer to him. I’m practically in his lap now, and I can feel his erection bulging out of his pants. I press my palm against it and stroke, savoring Sam’s sharp intake of breath and the way I can make him react with just a simple touch.

He cradles me and leans me backwards, so that my back is against the stack of throw pillows adorning the corner of the sofa. My dress is already half down and he peels it the rest of the way off now. His hand glides across my bare stomach, over my hip, down my thighs. His touch warms me, but it does nothing to dispel the strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Still, my hands reach automatically for Sam’s belt buckle. Slipping down between our two bodies, I undo the belt and then the button on his pants, until I can push his pants down off his hips. His cock springs toward me immediately, like a heat-seeking missile, already pushing up against my pussy. I squirm down, trying to get closer.

Sam stops kissing me long enough to grin at me and push my hair out of my face. I force myself to smile at him as he reaches down between us, grabbing his cock at the base and lining it up against my entrance. I reach down to help him and move the gusset of my panties aside.

Sam sinks into me. It feels good — amazing, really — and I clench my pussy around him as he starts to slowly thrust. I run my fingers through his dark hair and think about what a good man he is. Wondering whether he blames me for pushing him on Bennett. Wondering whether he’ll still want to see me when this month is all over… which, judging by Bennett’s behavior at the restaurant earlier, might be sooner than we think.

Just thinking about Bennett makes my stomach clench. The forlorn way he’d stared at that stupid bread basket. The way he couldn’t meet our eyes.

I’m so distracted by my thoughts of Bennett that I don’t notice that Sam has stilled above me.

“You still here?” he asks softly, running his thumb along my jaw.

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m here.”

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong, Lila?”

I bite my lip, but then decide there’s no point in lying.

“Just thinking about Bennett,” I admit.

Sam sighs, and for a second I think I’ve made him mad, but then a small rueful smile crosses his lips.

“Me too.”

I let out a huff that’s part relief and part sadness.

“Do you think we pushed him too hard?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he tells me, holding my jaw between his fingers and forcing me to meet his eyes. “Remember that, okay? I might have pushed him too far, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But it was my idea…”

“Yes, and it was Bennett and I who made the decision to go along with it. We’re grown-ups, you know,” he says with a smile. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

I bite my lip, trying not to laugh. “I don’t know about the grown-up thing — it was touch and go there for a while, when I first met you.”

He laughs. “I deserve that.”

I chuckle to myself, glad he agrees, but the laugh dies inside my throat. Because although Sam may have come around, there’s still the matter of Bennett… and the truth is, it feels weird to be here alone with Sam. It’s like somehow, without us noticing, we’d become three.

“This isn’t working, is it?” Sam asks, echoing my thoughts.

I shake my head. His brown eyes bore into mine, and I let my fingers trail along his chest.

“What are we going to do?” I whisper.

“I don’t know,” he says — or starts to. Because we both hear it at the same time. The soft chime of the elevator, and then Bennett’s voice, calling out for us.