Something about being around Garrett—being with him—made me feel empowered, like I could ask for what I wanted from him without judgment. Something in my gut told me he’d accept nothing less than for me to demand it, and he’d more than happily give it to me.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, sliding his hands inside the T-shirt I was wearing. His growl turned into a desperate groan when he encountered my naked skin. “You in my shirt with no panties has to rank somewhere in the top five of my ultimate fantasies.”

My breath hitched and my eyes fell closed as one hand snaked around my front and began toying with my slit. “Well, I’m here to please—” The words caught in my throat when he filled me with two fingers, pumping in and out at the same time his thumb pressed against my clit.

“Oh, baby. You please me like no one else. Just watching you like this makes me hard enough to pound nails.” He thrust his hips upward, rubbing his hard cock against me. “Can you feel it? What you do to me? How you drive me crazy?”

I ground against him, wanting to take every part of him as deep as I could.

“That’s it, baby. Ride my hand, get yourself there.”

My hips circled faster in pursuit of my orgasm, but it remained just out of reach. “Garrett,” I whimpered. “Please.”

His hand disappeared from between my legs for just a moment so he could whip the shirt over my head, leaving me completely bare on his lap. One hand returned to my pussy while the other gripped my waist, pulling me even closer. His mouth latched onto my nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth, creating the perfect combination of pleasure. But still… “Not enough.” I was on the verge of begging. “Please, Garrett. More.”

“You want my cock?” he asked before giving my nipple a bite that sent shots of pleasure from breast to clit.

“Yes,” I gasped. “I want it.”

“My greedy girl,” he murmured.

“I need you to fuck me.”

Garrett stopped playing with me and quickly lifted me off his lap, spinning me around to face the table. The chair scraped loudly across the tile floor as he stood and forced my chest against the chilled surface, then circled my hips with both hands. “Want you bare, baby. Tell me that’s okay,” he pleaded. The request should have sounded warning bells, but this wasn’t like last time. We weren’t so lost that we were unaware. And I’d been on the pill for a long time. “I’m clean,” he continued, his tone belying his craving for me. “Swear to God, baby. I get tested regularly. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Me too,” I answered. “I’m on the pill.”

I barely got the last word out before his boxer briefs hit the floor and he filled me so completely it took my breath away. “Yes,” I hissed, throwing my head back as everything in me began to buzz.

“Goddamn!” Garrett pulled out and drove back in so hard the table shifted beneath me. The glass and wine bottle teetered precariously before another thrust sent them both crashing to the floor. “So fuckin’ tight. Jesus!”

I reached across the table, gripping the edge and holding on tight as Garrett fucked me like his only function in life was to get me off. “God, just like that,” I panted. “I’m close. Don’t stop. Shit. Don’t stop.”

“Christ,” he barked, pounding even harder as he snaked one hand between me and the table. His fingers pressed on that sensitive nub and everything inside of me exploded. I splintered into a billion pieces, crying out his name along with a string of curse words. He followed seconds later, bending over me and burying his face in my hair as he groaned.

It felt like an eternity before either of us was able to move again. When Garrett finally stood and pulled up his underwear, he carefully lifted my chest from the sweat-slick surface of the table and turned me around, his hands gentle on my body, as if I were made of crystal. He picked me up and carried me over to the sink, setting me on the counter as he turned on the water. We both remained silent as he cleaned himself from between my legs with a warm, damp cloth.

“You tired?” he finally asked once he was finished. I opened my mouth to reply, but the words were cut off by a massive yawn. He laughed and gathered the T-shirt I’d been wearing, helping me into it before setting me back on the ground and leading me from the kitchen.

“What about the broken glass?”

“Leave it. Rosita or Sylvie will get it in the morning.”

I gave the hand he was holding a jerk, glaring when he stopped and turned to look at me. “That’s not right. We made the mess while they were off the clock. That means it’s our responsibility to pick it up.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but instead just rolled his eyes and let go of my hand to retrieve the broom from the pantry.

We spent the next few minutes cleaning in silence. When we were done Garrett took my hand once again and started pulling me toward the stairs.

“Wait!” I called, yanking him to a stop once again.

“Damn it, baby. If you tell me there’s something else to clean up, I’m gonna bend you over my knee and tan your ass. Haven’t used a vacuum in fifteen fuckin’ years and don’t plan to start again now.”

A giggle erupted from my throat at the frustration on his face. “No, not that. I wanted to know… well….” I looked back at the door marked Private just off the kitchen. “I’ve never seen you play.” I bit my bottom lip, suddenly feeling shy about my request. “And I want to.”

One golden brow quirked up as he turned to face me. “You wanna hear me beat the shit out of my drum kit now? At four thirty in the morning? No offense, babe, but I’m kinda beat. Fucking you took it out of me.”

“Oh. Well, no, not the drums. Although I’d like to see that too, one day. But I meant the guitar. I want to see you play.” Then something dawned on me. “Wait. Do you even have a guitar? I just assumed—”

“I do, baby.” His brilliant grin told me he was pleased as hell at my desire to see him doing something he loved. Music was clearly a passion for him, and he liked that I wanted to experience him in his element.

He flipped the lights on, illuminating the empty studio and sitting area with warm light. I followed him through the door that led to the soundproof room, taking everything in since it was my first time past the glass. “What do you want to hear?” Garrett asked, picking an acoustic guitar up from the stand by the wall. There were actually several guitars lining the wall, but I was thankful he’d gone for the acoustic over the electric.

“Um, I don’t know. Anything. Play me one of your songs.”

He chuckled with a shake of his head and took a seat on a stool, tipping his chin at another one for me to sit on. I perched on my seat and watched in awe as he began fiddling with the instrument, plucking the strings and tuning it as he went. A few seconds later, he started strumming a melody I’d never heard before. It was beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time, the chords blending together to create an almost sorrowful sound. I didn’t need to hear the lyrics to know it was a sad song, but to my amazement, Garrett opened his mouth and began to sing.

I’d been impressed to learn he could play multiple instruments, but nothing topped the fascination at hearing his soft melodic voice ringing out in the room. He was amazing. The voice matched the man in the sense that both were absolutely gorgeous. I got lost in the music he created, swimming in the heartbreaking words of a song about lost love. By the time he strummed the last chord, I was struggling against the tears stinging my eyes.

“So, what do you think?” he asked once he finished, propping the guitar against the foot of the stool.

“I think….” I waved my hands through the air manically. “That was… ohmigod, Garrett! You’re amazing! How did I not know you sang like that? Do you sing for the band too? Did you write that song? Do you write all the songs? There’s so much I don’t know!”

His head fell back in laughter for several seconds before he finally answered my many rambled questions. “I do background vocals here and there, but being lead isn’t really my gig. Deck’s the front man. I was never comfortable being center stage. He wrote that song when his girl left him several years ago. He writes most of them, but we all collaborate together on whatever he comes up with, so there’s bits and pieces of each of us in most of our music.” He stood from his stool and reached to pull me up, wrapping his arms around me to hold me tight against him. “And I’m glad you like how I sing, baby. I’ll have to remember to use that in the future whenever I piss you off.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked up. “I might love your voice, but that doesn’t mean it’ll get you off my shit list if you do something to piss me off.”

I felt his smile against my lips as he gave me a slow, leisurely kiss. “You sure about that?”

I wasn’t, not really. Something in my gut told me that if he started crooning love songs whenever he was in the doghouse, I was in serious trouble, but he didn’t need to know that. “Positive. Now take me to bed. I’m exhausted.”

The sky was still painted black outside as we made our way through the first floor to the stairs, but I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before the sun started to rise. I’d regret staying up until the early hours of the morning once I had to start my day, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. This had been one of the best nights I’d had in longer than I could remember.

When we hit the landing on the second floor, Garrett stopped at the thermostat and dialed the temperature down, then looked over his shoulder and graced me with that panty-dropping smile of his, complete with those dimples that winked at me.

“Can’t have you burning up, now can we?”

My shield let out a heavy groan as it began collapsing under the weight of such a thoughtful gesture, and despite the heat that radiated from Garrett’s body, that night I slept like a baby.