You know when you think you’ve got it all under control and you waltz into a place, all cocky and shit?

Well, that was me walking into Raine’s apartment tonight. I thought I knew what I was doing. This was supposed to be about him, dammit. I wanted to comfort him, make him talk about the nightmare, and then crash on his couch for the night.

But when he closed the door and turned to face me in the light, looking so sad and so damn hot, I was a goner. I had to kiss him, touch him.

And that was only the beginning. Over the course of the next five—or ten?—minutes, I lost track of what I came here for, found myself from top to bottom and begging for release. Begging him to make me, rip the pleasure out of me. Force it out of me. Like in my dreams.

Not sure there’s any other way.

He’s staring at me like I punched him right in the chest, and he can’t draw air. Before he can backpedal and refuse, I grab him and bring him down for a savage kiss. I bite on his lips and suck on his tongue until he’s groaning and rocking against me. I’m distracting him, but I’m the one distracted. My dick is waking up again, rubbing against his latex-covered hard-on, and it’s like an image from my dreams.

Yeah, I’m gone again, lost in the pleasure of his body on mine, his mouth, his hands… Fuck, his hands. He toys with my nipple piercing, then trails his hand lower. He grips my cock, tugs on the silver bar there, and I bite back a cry.

“Okay,” he says as he grabs my right leg. He lifts it over his hip, then grips his dick and pushes into me. “Okay, Jase.” I don’t even remember what question he’s answering, until he clarifies, punctuated with a hard shove inside me. “I’ll make you.”

Oh shit, this feels… My back bows as he pushes deeper. He lifts my leg higher, around his waist, and I lift the other one, too, locking my feet behind his back.

Belatedly I notice the fact I’m facing him. I’m so fucking exposed—my dick, my face, he can see it all. Every reaction. Nothing I can hide.

And I can’t hold on to that thought, because with every shift of his body, every thrust, he shoves more pleasure into me. He brushes his hand over my cock and I shudder, but he doesn’t jack me off, and when I reach down to do it myself, he knocks my hand away.

“You will come,” he says, a promise, and another shudder wracks me. His hand finds my balls and cradles them, massaging.

Oh fuck… I’m shaking and I can’t stop, my body coiled tight, the pressure in my gut rising and rising until it fucking hurts, and then…

“Just promise me one thing,” Raine pants, and his voice echoes strangely in my ears.

I grunt. What is he talking about?

He bends lower, and whispers in my ear, “Promise you’ll keep the key, Jase. Promise.”

“I…can’t…” Can’t promise. Can’t speak.

Fuck.

He goes still, staring down at me, beautiful like a goddamn angel, and he literally has me by the balls.

I knew this was a bad idea. I’m panting and burning to come, and I want this so damn much I summon my last functioning brain cells to the task.

“I promise,” I whisper. “I’ll keep the damn key.”

He grins, drops a kiss on my mouth, and lets go of my balls to wrap his hand around my cock even as he pulls out a few inches and slams back into my ass.

God. I groan and buck and writhe. I’m so fucking hard his grip on my cock hurts, but he starts to stroke me, and the pain turns into pleasure. So much fucking pleasure, I’m bursting at the seams, coming apart.

My grip on his shoulders has to be leaving bruises. But I can’t let go. Heat bursts from my cock, and a hoarse cry tears itself from my throat as I come, and come. It feels like falling through empty space, burning, burning…

“Damn,” he breathes, moving over me, in me, forcing another choked cry from me and another crushing wave of pleasure. Then he stiffens and groans long and low, his cock swelling more, then jerking as he comes, too.

He slumps over me, and I catch him, wrapping my arms around him. We’re breathing together, our hearts pounding against one another, every inch of our sweaty skin touching. I clutch him close, struggling to wrap my head around what just happened.

My body’s still humming with the release like a plucked chord. Shit, I’ve never come so hard before. This orgasm was so much stronger than anything I’ve ever managed with my own hand. So damn sweet and sharp. It was…

He shifts, sitting up and starting to pull out of me. I grunt, my ass clenching, and I force myself to relax, watching as he removes the condom and ties it off, then drops it on top of our pile of discarded clothes.

I open my mouth to say something. Not sure what, but after having your mind blown to bits, surely you should talk about it, right?

Though the only thing that comes to mind is, wow, and goddamn, and… Did he feel it, too? Did he feel the world move, like I did? I wanna ask, but forming a question seems like too much work right now.

My lips feel numb.

My heart is racing.

And then he gets up and starts hauling me up and off the sofa. “Bed,” he whispers. “Come on. We both need to catch some Zs.”

Seriously?

He grins at me, satisfied and sated and way too alert after what happened. My muscles have turned to jelly, my knees won’t hold me. I feel as if the world was turned on its head tonight, and he acts as if we just took a tumble in the sheets.

Which is what we did… minus the sheets.

So there’s my answer. He didn’t feel it. Why should he, right? For him it wasn’t different than any other time.

I let Raine tug me into his bedroom, aware I should be resisting, insisting I’ll sleep on the sofa, but dammit, I’m still reeling from everything. And worse still, it’s just me.

Why did it hit me like this? Sure, I came as he fucked me, and that’s never happened before, but it was more than that. Is it because he enacted a scene from my dreams? Taking over, something that should have tripped all my wires and triggered all my panic reflexes but somehow didn’t, playing my body like a damn instrument, keeping his promise… Giving me no pain. Only pleasure, so much pleasure…

I shiver at the memory, my spent dick throbbing, as he pulls me on his wide bed, not quite a double but almost, and pulls the covers over us. He pulls me into his arms, shifting me until I’m on my side with his chest flush against my back—and again I should be going into a panic fit and I’m not.

Too lost in thought to pay too much attention. Because I shouldn’t be so fucking shaken. Sure, it was just sex. I’ve had sex every day of my life since I could get an erection. Scratch that, before even.

But this wasn’t just sex. It was so much fucking more. To me, at least.

And that’s exactly the problem. That’s what I wanted to avoid all along, falling this hard, forgetting about my mistrust, and who’s to blame?

Only myself.

Hush little baby in the cradle, the wind is blowing, the cradle will rock…

The words still humming in my ears, I jerk awake. I still feel blades cutting through me, burning as they sink into my skin and part my flesh.

Where am I?

I can’t move. Fuck, I’m tied up. Panic grips me, and I’m so cold my teeth are chattering. I struggle, although I know it’s useless, and God, I’m so tired of this. Always waking up in a panic, wondering where I am, what happened. If I’m safe. If I’m even alive.

Phantom pain dances all over my body. I swear I can feel every scar like an open wound, and I’d curl up and wait for the pain to pass, only I can’t fucking move. No matter how I twist and writhe, the bonds won’t give.

I groan, my eyes stinging and the back of my throat burning.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” a voice rumbles. The bonds shift, relaxing, and I jerk away, falling off the bed and slamming into the floor.

Christ. I sit up and try to crawl away, but my head hurts like rusty nails driving into my eyeballs, and my back aches where I hit it as I fell. I hunch over, bile rising in my throat, force myself to breathe.

Get a grip, Jason. Look around you.

A bedroom. Unfamiliar walls and I can’t remember how I ended up here, but the voice that spoke before… I know that voice.

A man rolls off the bed and comes to crouch in front of me, tall and broad-shouldered with tousled dark hair and bright blue eyes.

I nod, even as my throat closes up. It’s Raine. I’m safe.

Shit, I’m safe.

“Dammit, Jase.” He gathers me up in his arms, and I should be mortified, but I can’t feel anything else but relief. “What happened? Are you all right?”

I’m so far from all right it’s funny. I’m hanging on to him as if there’s emptiness yawning under my feet, and if he lets go, I’ll fall to my death.

That’s how it feels.

My face is mashed to his shoulder, my arms around his back. He’s rocking me, I realize with a jolt. A subtle back and forth movement. He’s humming something, but it’s not the ditty from my dream, thank fuck. That would have thrown me off the deep end screaming, for sure.

No, this is real, not a dream, and I’m clinging to him like a scared kid. I have to let go. I have to pull back.

“Tell me what you dreamed of,” he whispers against my neck and that finally does the trick.

I draw away from his warmth. “I’m fine.”

It will be a cold day in hell when I tell anyone about that dream, and speaking of cold… I rub at my arms. Being buck naked ain’t helping.

“You were trying to scream in your sleep,” he says gravely, those blue eyes candid and darkened with concern. He’s kneeling in front of me, naked, like me. Beautiful, though. Unscarred for the most part. Unblemished. Too damn kind.

“Just a bad dream.”

“Jase.” Another shiver goes through me, like every time he calls me that. He puts his hands on my arms and rubs them, and I lean in, unable to help myself. “Did you think you were at Simon Gomez’s Club?”

Ah fuck. I pull away and grab at the mattress to heave myself up. His interest in Simon Gomez is dangerous. “No. I can’t remember what the dream was about. I should get—”

“It was something else, then. Something that scared you.”

Man, I don’t want to talk about this. Don’t want to remember—the dream, or the faint memories behind it. I get up and sit heavily on the bed. “I said I’m okay. And that I should get going.”

“Yeah, you said that.” He’s still kneeling there, almost at my feet. Impossibly handsome. Way too sexy. And despite this showdown, his dick is half-hard between his legs, and damn if the sight doesn’t send a bolt of lust straight to mine. “Don’t go.”

I bow my head and breathe out, my hands fisting at my sides. “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not playing.” He licks his lips. “Go out with me.”

What? I shake my head. “We fucked, that’s all.” Sure, it was more to me, but who the hell cares? “This ain’t real.”

“What if I want this to be real?” God, his eyes are so damn blue. Hypnotizing. “To hold you in my arms all night, wake up with you in the morning. Kiss, and fuck, and keep the nightmares at bay.”

My nails bite into my palms. “Look, we both have nightmares. But that’s all we have in common. I’m a hooker. You hate that.”

His brows draw together, shadowing his eyes. “I want to strangle every guy who as much as looks your way, or thinks about touching you. Anyone who thinks about hurting you.”

See? I wanna say. This is crazy, and you know it. I should just laugh and leave. But his answer stops me short, and the laughter dies in my throat.

He means it. He really means it, and it’s fucking with my mind. As if it wasn’t messed up enough.

I take a bracing breath. “Raine, dammit… I can’t.”

There’s a fine tremor in his hand when he lifts it to shove hair out of his eyes. “I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” This is way too complicated, way too dangerous. But what comes out is, “You’ll leave me sooner or later. You’ll move on. But I…” My breathing is chopped, and my eyes burn like I’m about to fucking cry. “But I won’t.”

Oh fuck me, this is bad. Mortifying. And he hasn’t said another word, which only means I’m right.

I stumble out of the bedroom blindly, to look for my clothes. I find them in a pile on the floor of the living room, and flashes from the sex we had on the couch last night stop me for a second.

His voice behind me makes me start.

“Come back tonight,” he says, taking my hand and pressing something small and cold into my palm. I know it’s the key I dropped last night as we tore each other’s clothes off. “Look, the number written on the key is the code for the door downstairs. Come back. Say you will.”

I stare down at his hand over mine. I only promised to keep the key, not use it, and come on, I said it during sex. It can’t possibly count, and I should tell him that. Not to expect this of me. Not to expect anything.

But I find myself nodding instead. “I will.”