At first I giggled. And then I laughed. The laughter turned to snorting as I doubled over. I gripped Jeremy’s clean white shirt. I shook harder, the more I tried to reign it in. I inhaled his cologne every time I giggled. Damn he smelled good. It should have been enough to sober me up, but the nearness of him made me more tipsy.

“Evie, I’m serious.” Jeremy looked pissed.

“No—not possible.” I sniffed ridiculously, trying to control my laughter. “You’re totally bull shitting me right now.” There were now tears in the corners of my eyes. I had to stop, but the wine made it nearly impossible.

He gripped my upper arms. “I’m dead serious. I have to get married and have a baby.”

My face fell, and suddenly I was quiet.

I cleared my throat. “This isn’t a joke?” I whispered. “That’s what the lawyer told you today? Your father put those exact words in his will? He actually demanded you become a father? That’s… I don’t really have words for it.”

“You think I would make something like this up?”

I wiped the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. It sounds like something out of a romantic comedy. Guy walks into a bar and needs to find a girl. I could write the script.” I squeaked, forcing myself to get a grip. “Really? Jane Austen? I spilled my sad spinster story about wanting to have a baby, and now this? The golden boy bachelor returns home after a decade and is forced into fatherhood? You can’t write this shit, Jer.”

I pushed back, attempting to read his expression. He didn’t think it was funny, I could tell. The wine had lulled me into thinking we were closer than we were. That I could suddenly rib him when I had crossed a line I shouldn’t have.

“You’re exactly right. It’s not a movie. It’s my fucking life.”

I sat up, startled into sobriety for a brief second.

“I’m afraid your romantic comedy isn’t going to have a happy ending.” He cocked his head to the side. “No beautiful love song for the rolling credits at the end of this story.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Hell. Because I’m not going through with it. I told you. I’m not husband material.”

I felt the full weight of his gaze. Was he looking at my lips? Tracing them with those sparkly blue eyes?

Something fluttered in my stomach. Something I hadn’t recognized in a long time.

“Doesn’t seem that bad. A little family for all that money? Girls will line up. You could interview for the position. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood again. “You are Jeremy Hartwell. Everyone in this town loves you. I think you could have a nice life to go along with all that money.”

“It’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in having a wife. Or being a father.” His thumb raked across my bottom lip. I inhaled. Was this happening? He touched me like each move had a purpose to get to the next. There was no accident in our closeness.

I kept talking nervously. “It can’t be that bad. You’re a nice guy. At least you don’t seem like you turned into an ax murderer or anything since we graduated.”

He chuckled. “I hope you haven’t painted me as the good guy next door.”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Good, because I don’t know who he is anymore.”

I wanted to hear more about his crisis. I did. Clearly, he was in pain. He was driving off a cliff after the will reading today. Why else had he spent six hours getting drunk in the corner booth? But my brain shut down and my body turned on, the instant he brushed his lips against mine.

God, he had incredible lips. Soft yet firm. Dangerous as fire.

He cupped my jaw, dragging his mouth over mine with possessive force. I fell into his arms, drinking the wine from his tongue.

Our lips melted together. Our tongues tangled. Our hands were everywhere.

Jeremy’s fingers slid under my shirt. I groaned when he squeezed my breast. It felt so good. As if I hadn’t had a man’s hand on me in months. Damn. It had been almost two years. I wiggled into his lap, straddling him. Eager to press my body into his. Ready to feel the warmth of another person.

“Shit, Evie. You’re hot all grown up.” He grinned, pulling me toward him for another searing kiss.

My hips rolled toward him and I froze, feeling just how hard I made him. We shouldn’t be doing this. Nothing good could come from this.

I broke away. I tried to catch my breath.

“Is there somewhere we can go?” he asked.

My breasts rose and fell as I gasped for air. He had completely misunderstood me. I stopped because what we were about to do was wrong. I wasn’t emotionally built for a one-night stand. I was hardly built for fly-by kisses, even though I had already given in to his.

“Come on, Evie. Let’s see where this night takes us.” He kissed along my throat and I heard a tiny moan escape my lips.

This was the part where I was supposed to tell him what I was thinking. That there was no reason we should hook up now. Two people who sat next to each other in high school English. He should leave for the airport and cool off in the snow. He needed to take that infamous steel rod of his and ice it down.

“I have an office downstairs,” I answered.

“Let’s go.” He winked, and pushed me out of the booth.

There was fire racing through my veins. My pulse thumped loudly. I walked to the cellar door, propelled by an indescribable need to discover for myself why so many girls chose Jeremy as the one to give their virginity to. I could excuse this as discovery research. Was he the greatest lover to ever walk Newton Hills’ streets?

He followed closely, touching my hip and the silhouette of my waist as we descended the stairs. I thought I felt his breath on my neck. The steps were barely visible in the red glow from the restaurant’s first floor.

I reached for the light when my feet touched concrete.

“Don’t,” he silenced me with a ravenous kiss, pressing my back into the wall.

I spun in his arms as he peeled my T-shirt over my head. We knocked into one case of wine and then another as we staggered backward. Somehow the bottles didn’t break. I was dizzy and horny. My balance was failing me as I walked ahead of him to the sofa in the corner of my writing nook. I pushed the heavy curtain out of the way.

“Secret spot?” he asked. He reached for a bottle of wine on one of the shelves before he stepped through the curtains. He pulled them closed and placed the wine on the floor.

I nodded. “No one has ever been here.” I don’t know why I told him that. Did I think it was important to confess in some way that I hadn’t had sex in forever? Did I want him to know that I didn’t have random hookups like this? I could tell Jeremy wasn’t in the mindset to process my motivations.

He lifted me against his chest. I moaned as his lips touched my collarbone, burning my skin with his mouth. He lowered me to the couch. I looked at the powerful man standing over me as he unbuttoned his five-hundred-dollar shirt. The fabric skated over sculpted arms and landed in a heap on the floor.

He leaned to kiss me. My nails skimmed the contours of his abs until I landed on his belt buckle.

He groaned. “Don’t stop now, Evie.” He kissed me behind my ear.

I was like a woman possessed. I grasped the end of his belt, yanking it free. I jerked his zipper and in one tug his pants fell open, dropping to his ankles. Holy shit. I just undressed Jeremy Hartwell. When had I ever slept with a heartthrob?

He climbed on the small sofa. It creaked under his weight. His body was long and wide. He had an athletic frame. Everyone thought he should have played football. He had the shape of a tight end, but he loved baseball. He might not have been a professional athlete any longer, but he looked like one. Every sculpted inch of him.

“You’re a sweet surprise, tonight,” he growled between my breasts. “Maybe you can turn this shitty day around for me.” He traced the soft white line of my bra until he had pushed my nipples into the air. I gasped.

They were hard and pointed. Desperate to be touched. His tongue lashed over one and then the other. I arched into him, realizing as my hips rubbed against his, his shaft was harder than before. Was he some kind of sex cyborg? How did that even happen?

He leaned back on his ankles.

“You don’t need these.” He gripped the zipper on my jeans and shirked the denim off my thighs.

He hovered over me. Today would be the day I decided to wear black and white polka-dotted panties. When I slid them on after my shower, I only cared that they were comfortable and I could wear them with my fitted jeans without showing off a bulging panty line. But the way Jeremy was eyeing them, I suddenly realized the sheer black fabric made them look enticing.

He licked his lips and I shuddered. The sexual energy dripped from his shoulders. It dripped from every part of him.

“Maybe the good girl has a dirty side after all.” He winked, peeling the panties off my thighs and tossing them on my desk. I stared in amazement.

Jeremy ran a finger between my folds. I hissed, knowing I was needy. Knowing how much his touch made me ache to my core. I was starving for an orgasm. Starving for a man. He growled, pushing a thick finger inside me.

Oh shit. I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared for any of it. It felt so good.

He shoved my knees wide, settling between my thighs. He leaned over, reaching for the bottle of wine on the floor.

“What are you—” I protested.

He wasn’t seriously going to use a bottle of wine for sex, was he? Oh hell, he was. He twisted the cap, flicking it across the room. I moaned when he tipped the bottle over my center and began to lap up the spilled wine, trickling across my clit.

“Holy shit,” I groaned, yanking his hair in my fists. I’d never felt anything so incredibly erotic in my life.

He latched on my clit, sucking and twisting his tongue in circles. He doused my pussy with more wine before drinking from my heat. I thrashed under him, knowing I wouldn’t experience sensuality like this again.

I kept one hand on the back of his head, while the other traveled to my nipples. I twisted and plucked while Jeremy worked my clit like a fucking expert. I was going to spill over into my first orgasm before I was ready.

He set the wine next to the couch and positioned himself for the homerun. His fingers moved in and out of me while his tongue lashed my clit with the kind of rhythm that was meant for one thing—the ultimate orgasmic explosion.

“Oh damn it, Jeremy.” It hit me with massive force. I turned my face into the side of the couch so I could let out a ragged scream.

I panted for relief while the rippling circled my muscles. It lit something in me. A tiny flame had turned into a bonfire. I wanted more. I sighed, daring to face him. He reached toward the floor, this time searching in his pants pocket for something. He held up a square foil packet.

And I knew then I was about to have sex with a legend.