Blinded by the sunlight pouring through Taryn’s window, I reversed our positions and pulled her on top of me.

When did the sun come up?

The question floated away as she groaned and picked up the pace, riding me into the ground.

“Fuck, slow down, baby,” I growled. “I can’t … I can’t stop.”

Palming her breast, I pinched her nipple to drive her over the edge when I felt her inner walls start to clench around my cock.

She tipped forward, her palms flat on my chest and her eyes screwed shut.

“Yes … yes … I’m coming. Chase …”

Burying my face in the crook of her neck, I breathed in the sex and sweat clinging to her skin. And me. I was all over her.

“Right here, baby.”

She shattered, and like the hurricane she was, she took me right along with her. When the storm passed and our breathing was the only sound in the quiet room, the magnitude of my fuck up settled on me like a five-hundred-pound weight.

Staying the night was a mistake. A mistake I could’ve corrected by leaving before Taryn woke up. But instead, I roused her from her sleep and buried myself in her sweet body like a man possessed.

She rolled off me and then threw her arm over her eyes, groaning, “When did the sun come up?”

Laughing, I pressed a kiss to her pouting lips and then climbed out of bed. “At dawn.”

“Hmm,” she mused and, rolling onto her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and looked out the window. Caramel highlights shimmered in her hair, some trick of light I assumed. Either that or the two rounds of epic sex elevated her to sainthood.

Shaking my head, I ducked into the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

When I returned, Taryn was in her robe, pacing, that damn phone attached to her ear. “I don’t care what it takes, Harper. You’ve got the ticket. Get on the damn plane. If you’re not here by three, the deal is off. I’m not negotiating.”

She ended the call and then tossed the phone onto the bed, glaring at it like it was a venomous snake.

“Everything cool?” I asked as I laced my boots.

She jerked her gaze to mine, a smile curving her lips. “Oh, yeah. Everything’s good.”

I pushed to my feet. “You’ve got a great poker face. But these lines right here,” cupping her nape, I smoothed the tiny wrinkles around her mouth with my thumb, “they give you away.”

“And you’re an expert in frown lines?”

“No. But I’ve negotiated my share of deals.”

Since there were no accidents, my slip of the tongue could only be blamed on one thing. I wanted to see Taryn again.

She picked up the breadcrumb I offered and replied, “What kind of deals?”

I blew out a breath and looked around. “This building, for one. When I bought it, it was in foreclosure. Just an old warehouse. But the bank didn’t want to let it go.”

Chancing a peek at Taryn’s face, I paused and let it sink in. Likely, she had no earthly idea whose name was behind the corporation who owned BlueBonnet Towers. And even if she decided to check, which she would, there wasn’t much to find. A simple LLC in the name of the Phoenix Group, owned by a larger holding company, Nobelesque. Since she knew my name, the pieces would fall into place.

She sank onto the bed, circumspect. “The Phoenix Group owns this building.” Her gaze flicked to the tattoo on my forearm, a phoenix rising from the ashes. “You own the Phoenix Group?”

“Yes.”

Her brow arched impossibly high. “And you work as a bartender?”

I laughed. “No, darlin’. I tend bar at Nite Owl, the bar I own. I don’t freelance.”

Her lips wobbled as she tried to keep from smiling. Since I didn’t intend on telling her anything else for the moment, I pounced, dropping a kiss to her mouth as I eased her onto the mattress. “You laughing at me? Bartending’s honest work.”

She twined her fingers into my hair, pressing her lips together. “Not laughing,” she said when she got herself under control. “I’m just wondering how many other hidden talents you have. Do you juggle?”

“As a matter of fact …”

The front door slammed and she jerked to her elbows. “What the hell?”

Thundering footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Taryn! Are you here?”

Shooting to her feet, Taryn fumbled to secure the wrinkled sheet under her arms. “Don’t you dare come up here!” she hollered a second before Beckett Brennin stormed into the room.

Skidding to a stop, his gaze floated from Taryn to me and back to her.

“What the fuck is going on?” he roared.

Since I wasn’t sure if the asshat was talking to me, I rose to my full height. Brennin wasn’t small, over six feet by a hair, but the couple inches I had on him gave him pause.

“What are you doing here?” Taryn asked with enough surprise in her tone to let me know she wasn’t expecting him.

“I live here.”

Brennin looked straight at me, and it was like fate had stepped in to save me from myself. But if that were the case, why did I have the urge to wring the fucker’s neck until he took it back?

In the few seconds that elapsed, the precious time I could’ve spent hauling ass for the door, Taryn found her voice. It was small, but emphatic, with a warmth around the edges that made me see red.

“You don’t live here, Becks. You haven’t lived here in months.”

Brennin leaned against the doorframe, his cool façade at war with his clenched fists. “I haven’t been in town for months, Taryn. But the last time I was here, I slept in that bed.”

Our eyes met and his cool demeanor crumbled. “Now why don’t you get the fuck out of here and let me talk to my girl.”

I had a couple of choices: leave, or describe the multitude of ways I’d made his girl come in the past few hours. Option two was definitely more appealing, but option one was clearly the way to go.

Taryn must’ve sensed it, because she grabbed my arm. “Don’t go. Beckett was just leaving.”

Brennin barked out a laugh. “I’m not going anywhere, T-Rex. And we both know it.”

Taryn cringed. Brennin smiled. And my thoughts drifted back to option one.

I jerked when my phone vibrated. Wrestling the device from my pocket, I hit ignore on Logan’s call, then scrolled to a text—also from Logan.

Where are you? Is Laurel with you? That Calista chick just called. She can’t find her.

“Shit,” I muttered as I tapped out my reply.

She’s not with me. I’m on my way.

“Is everything okay?” Taryn asked, all her focus on me.

Clarity took hold, and I raked a hand through my hair, prepared to give Taryn the “it’s been nice” speech. “Listen, I gotta go. I think …”

Beckett snorted, and I met his gaze. One prick to another, I guess he recognized the beginning of a brush off when he heard one.

Before I could stop myself, I took Taryn’s hand. “How about dinner tonight?”

What the fuck are you doing?

The answer came when she smiled. Like I’d given her a gift.

“Sure. I mean … if you want.”

I swept a tangled lock behind her ear. “Yeah, I want. How’s seven o’clock work for you?”

The sparkle returned to her eyes, driving away the clouds and revealing a clear blue sky filled with possibilities. “Good. Seven’s good.”

I pulled Taryn in for a quick peck, but she cupped my cheek and her lips parted.

“I’m right fucking here!” Brennin whined as she deepened the kiss.

When my phone rang, I pulled away to check the screen.

I hit ignore, but not before Taryn caught a peek at Laurel’s name flashing on the display.

I didn’t have time to explain, so I dropped the device into my pocket. “See you at seven, baby.” Taryn nodded, questions swimming in her eyes. “And pack a bag. We can stay at my loft.” With a pointed look at Brennin, I added, “Nobody will interrupt us there.”

I headed down the stairs, and before I reached the bottom, Beckett was whining. As I pulled the front door closed, I tried not to imagine some outlandish scenario where they ended up tangled in our sex sheets.

Bypassing the elevator, I headed for the stairwell.

Cursing under my breath as I flew down the concrete steps, I hit redial on Laurel’s number.

“Where are you?”

She rambled incoherently but finally managed to offer a street. I recognized the neighborhood.

“Stay put,” I warned. “And I swear to God, if you’re any more fucked up when I get there than you are right now, I’m taking you straight back to rehab.”