“You must not drink very often, huh?” Ben asks me slyly, looking at me sideways with a smirk on his face.

God, he looks hot as sin. His dark hair is starting to fall down around his face, and he’s got that sexy five o’clock shadow starting to grow in after a long day.

He’s taken off his fancy business blazer, revealing the white t-shirt underneath, which is pulled taut across his chest and half-tucked into his designer jeans. His powerful arms are on full display, and with every move he makes, I can see his back and chest muscles rippling under the fabric of his shirt.

In other words, he looks like a dream. Specifically, a wet dream.

“No, not really,” I answer, acting as cool and breezy as I can even though every cell in my brain is asking me what the hell I’m doing. I don’t actually need this ride, but I can’t say no to Ben’s offer. Don’t ask me to explain why. I just . . . let’s put it this way, I need it for reasons other than intoxication, okay? “To be honest, I’m usually too busy working or sleeping to go out much these days. I tend to have way more fun staying in and cooking, listening to music and stuff, than hitting the bar scene.”

“Seems like kind of a waste, though, doesn’t it? I mean, look around. You live in Las Vegas. Why be here if you can’t enjoy the nightlife?” he points out, sidling up next to me as he starts to lead me out the back door, locking up behind us in the process.

“I guess there was a time when all of that appealed to me. Like when I was younger. But nowadays? I’m more focused on my career,” I admit. “I know that makes me sound super boring, but it is what it is.”

“No, no. Not boring. I wouldn’t call it that. More like ambitious. And driven. Those are good qualities to have,” Ben says, smiling. “I can certainly appreciate the hustle.”

“I bet you can, especially since you’re the same way,” I tell him. “When’s the last time you took some time off? I bet you don’t even remember.”

He looks contemplative as we walk out to the parking lot. He gives me his arm so I can lean on him for support, although, again, I don’t need it. I’m only barely tipsy.

A little guilt creeps into my chest. Maybe it’s a little underhanded of me to exaggerate how intoxicated I am, but I can’t help it. I’m dying for some alone time with Ben, even if it’s just a ride home.

He unlocks his car with the beep of his key fob, and then helps me into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel himself.

“You’re right,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t recall the last time I took a break.”

I grin as he starts up the engine. “Knew it. You’re a workaholic.”

“Guilty as charged,” he agrees. The car whips out of the parking lot and onto the Strip, neon signs flashing over us on either side.

“Well, at least it’s paying off for you, right? I mean, that interview today went great. Ocotillo is gearing up to be a huge success,” I remark.

“I hope so. I know it’s a little weird to play along with this whole engagement thing, but I don’t want to mess with the formula, you know? Hopefully this TV feature with Hersch will spread the word and draw in more customers. I don’t want to count my chickens before they’re hatched, but even I have to admit, it’s looking pretty damn good for us,” Ben says. He’s so, so sexy when he’s talking business like he’s completely in charge and in his element?

“It’s crazy how everyone seems so interested in our private lives. It’s not like we’re famous celebrities or anything,” I muse aloud.

“Well, we both come from wealthy families. I’m fairly well-known in the restaurant world. And you’re a gorgeous, talented chef. Plus, the media always loves a whirlwind romance story,” he laughs.

“Oh, is that what this is now?” I tease, reaching over to nudge his shoulder, encouraged by his compliment.

“If you read the tabloids, then yes,” he replies, smiling broadly. “They’re eating it up. I wish I could complain about it but I really can’t, not when it’s so good for business. Hell, maybe we should actually get married or something. Have some big, dramatic, fake wedding.”

I snort, “Yeah, I bet they’d all lose their minds.”

“Not to mention our parents,” he adds.

“Oh yeah. My mom would be over the moon. She really likes you for some reason. I don’t know why,” I joke, biting my lip.

He glances over at me with a faux-scandalized look on his face. “Hey!”

“I’m totally kidding,” I admit. “I see exactly why she likes you so much.”

“Do you, now?” Ben teases back, raising an eyebrow.

I roll my eyes and respond, “Yeah, yeah. You’re successful and handsome and generous and smart, okay? You happy now?”

He’s beaming now, his eyes gleaming in the low light. “Yes, actually. I’m happy.”

“Me, too,” I confess softly.

Ben reaches across the console to take my hand, which sends a shiver of delight through my whole body. We spend the rest of the drive chatting and laughing together, and I can’t help but notice that his hand fits perfectly with mine. It just feels right.

When we pull up to my apartment complex, he parks the car and turns to me to ask, “Do you want me to walk you up? It can be pretty risky out here in the dark when you’re a girl all alone. I could, I don’t know, be your bodyguard or something.”

I laugh, glad that he can’t see me blushing in the dark. “Sure. In fact, would you like to come inside? I can make you a cup of coffee or something. You know, to thank you for driving me home.”

My heart hammers so hard I’m surprised I delivered my lines without a hint of a shiver in my voice. What am I doing? Am I really doing this? Are we really doing this? Oh God, what if he says no? I can still pretend I’m not totally into him, right?

It would suck to be rejected and then still have to see him every day at work. It would also suck to spend an amazing night with him and then have it lead nowhere, and then still have to see him every day at work.

What the hell am I doing? I could lose everything if this goes terribly—and there’s a higher chance of this going terribly than any other way—yet I can’t help myself.

But Ben doesn’t even take a second to think about it before replying, “Yeah. Sounds great. Let’s go.”

Oh God. We’re really doing this.

Or maybe he literally just wants coffee.

Don’t be an idiot. No guy ever just wants coffee.

I take a few stealthy, deep breaths. Let’s see how this plays out before panicking.

We get out of the car and Ben lets me link my arm with his as we make our way into the lobby and toward the elevator. With every step, my heart is pounding, my body warm and tingly all over.

I know we’re overstepping a boundary just by being here together right now, and I have no idea what’s about to happen next. I didn’t think this far ahead.

As we step into the lobby, he gives me a slightly concerned look and asks pointedly, “Hey, don’t you need your rest? I know you had a little too much to drink and—”

“No, actually,” I interrupt, feeling my face grow warm. “I have to confess that I might have fibbed a little. I’m not drunk at all. I just . . . I just wanted to spend some time with you. You’ve been so busy.”

For a moment, I brace myself, worried that he’ll be angry with me. But instead, a smile spreads slowly across his face. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

I feel like I’m walking on air as we make our way to the elevator and press the button.

The metal doors slide open with a faint grating sound and we step inside. I press the button for the fourth floor and turn back to see Ben looking at me thoughtfully. Almost like he’s sizing me up or trying to make sense of a puzzle in his head. If not for the soft smile on his face, I might be concerned there’s something seriously wrong with the way I look, like lipstick horribly smeared or mascara running down my cheeks.

I tilt my head to one side and ask, “What? What is it?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that . . . have you ever had a thought on your mind that you just can’t shake off no matter how hard you try?” he asks cryptically.

I lean back against the wall of the elevator room and nod reluctantly. “Yeah. Of course. I guess. What’s on your mind?”.

“Lots of things. Most notably, that television feature with Hersch. I’ve been so wrapped up in preparing for it and agonizing over the menu and everything for the past few days, but now that it’s over, there’s only one other thing still hanging in my mind,” Ben says.

“What’s that?” I ask, my stomach twisting into knots.

“You,” he answers coolly. I blink in surprise as he saunters over to me, putting his hands on the wall on either side of me and leaning in close.

I can feel the heat radiating off of his powerful body. I can see the longing in his dark eyes—it’s unmistakable. But a part of me still can’t believe Ben Graham is into me.

“Really? Me?” I breathe, eyes wide and cheeks flushing pink. “H-How so?”

He reaches down to take my chin between his fingers, his eyes flitting over my cheekbones, my nose, and finally to focus on my lips. I can feel my whole insides squirming, my body heating up just from this small touch.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kiss the other night,” Ben murmurs. “I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to pick up where we left off.”

Suddenly, my mouth dries up. I try to swallow and almost start coughing, I’m so stunned and tingly all over.

He starts to lean in inch by inch, his lips so close to mine I can almost taste them . . .

Ding!

The elevator doors slide open and Ben pulls away, smirking as he walks out. I’m so shocked it takes me a half-second to catch up and start leading the way toward my apartment entry.

“This one’s mine,” I mumble, fishing a key out of my pocket and fitting it into number 402. My nerves are all on fire and my hands are shaking, which makes it a little tricky to unlock the front door.

But as soon as it creaks open, Ben follows me inside and closes it, then swivels around and pins me against the wall, making me drop my purse and keys with a little yelp of surprise. I giggle nervously, then let out a startled moan when he presses the full, powerful length of his body against me.

He takes my wrists in his hands and raises my arms up over my head, pinning them there with one large hand while the other snakes down to trace a thumb over my parted lips. I’m breathing heavily now, my heart pounding like crazy.

“You,” he growls as he leans in to gently kiss my neck, “have been in my every thought lately. No matter what, I can’t seem to shake you off.”

“I feel the same way,” I whisper, shuddering with pleasure as his leg wedges between my thighs. I can feel his hard shaft straining through his jeans, against my hip. I grind against him, taking extreme delight in the groan this elicits from him.

“Whenever you’re in my kitchen, all I can picture is you wearing nothing but an apron. How easy it would be to just bend you over, feel you up from behind,” Ben murmurs against my ear. His warm breath makes me shiver, and goosebumps pop up along my arms. He slides his hand up under my dress, hiking it up so he can cup my aching heat through my panties.

“Oh, fuck,” I gasp.

He dives in to kiss me as his fingers slip underneath the fabric to lightly stroke my slick folds, making me cry out against his lips.

“God, you feel so good. Even better than I expected,” he whispers.

“More,” I shudder.

He grins devilishly. That seems to be the magic word, because he immediately slides two long fingers inside of me. His other hand slips down to grab my breasts through my dress and bra, making me arch my back and moan.

His fingers slide in and out of my pussy, gently brushing against my g-spot with every stroke.

Just before I can come, he pauses to pull my dress up over my head and toss it aside, followed by my bra and panties. I kick off my shoes and he resumes fingering me while his tongue dances over my pert nipples. I shiver and roll my hips, moaning incoherently as his fingers move faster and faster.

“Oh God,” I whimper, “you’re going to make me come.”

“Not quite yet, angel,” he growls, withdrawing his fingers and licking my wetness off them before commanding, “turn around and stick that ass out for me. I want to fuck you from behind.”

Still dizzy and desperate for release, I spin around and grind my ass against his crotch, biting my lip as he hastily unzips his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers.

His hard, massive cock springs free and he immediately slides it inside of me in one smooth stroke. I cry out, shuddering with pleasure.

Ben grabs me by the hips and starts rutting into me hard and fast. Both of us are too far gone, too lost in lust to stop now.

“Feels . . . so . . . good,” I gasp.

He’s fucking me with desperation, and I know he needs this just as badly as I do. He rams into me again and again, leaning in to graze my neck with his teeth, his hands sliding around to grab my breasts.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. I’ve been craving your tight little pussy for so long. Ever since the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I would have to make you mine somehow,” he snarls.

“Oh my God. Just like that. I’m so close,” I whimper.

“Mmm. Good. I want to see your face when you come, baby,” Ben growls.

Without missing a beat, he picks me up and carries me over to the sofa just a few steps away, cradling me back and then laying me down.

He slides inside me again, ramming harder and faster.

I’m breathless, moaning and twitching, desperate for relief.

“Touch yourself. I want you to rub your clit while I fuck you,” he demands.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I reach down and start massaging tight circles around my clit, my pleasure mounting higher and higher until it’s almost unbearable. I bite my lip, my whole body clenching up as Ben gazes down at me with that sexy, intense look on his face.

“Come for me, Claire. I want to feel you gush all over my cock,” he growls.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp. “Oh—Ben!”

My whole body convulses as the most intense orgasm of my life rips through my body, and at the exact same time, Ben lets go, his cock exploding hot, sticky seed deep inside me. He thrusts a few more times, frantically filling me up, making me his own.

While we both gasp and come down slowly from the high, basking in the afterglow, he leans over and kisses me softly on the lips.

He rests his forehead against me, still inside me, and murmurs, “Holy shit.”

I nod, grinning with exhilaration. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

We both laugh a little breathlessly and then he asks, in the sweetest voice imaginable, “Do you mind if I stay over tonight?”

I arch up to kiss him before answering, “Of course I want you to stay. I make a mean breakfast spread, and I’d hate for you to miss that.”