Present

We went out to dinner after the cocktail party. Rowan was starving, and I wasn’t quite ready to go back to our shared hotel room. Shared. I still couldn’t believe I’d agreed to that, but there was no taking it back. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t slept in the same bed together, but it was literally all we’d ever done on a bed—slept. Since we’d discussed hooking up and going all the way, the energy around us had changed. It was as if the entire time as we networked at the cocktail party, each stolen glance, small smile, brush of hands as we passed, was a dance of foreplay. The realization made my feelings tangle. I hadn’t realized that I could feel this way about him this quickly, but here I was, feeling like every nerve inside me was alight whenever he turned those blue eyes my way. I knew I needed walk the line carefully, though.

The last time we had a limited amount of time together, he’d hurt me like we’d been together for years. Maybe it was because, in my mind, we had been in some weird, twisted way. I tried to shake the thought away. We were more mature than we had been. We both knew exactly where our lives were supposed to be headed. It wouldn’t be like the last time.

“You haven’t said much since we left the party,” he said, making the ice in his whiskey glass tumble with the movement of his wrist. I did the same to mine and took a sip.

“Neither have you.”

He gave a nod. “I love watching you in your element.”

“It’s your element too.” I tried and failed to fight the blush on my face. What was it about him saying nice things to me that set my skin ablaze?

“Not really. I do it because I have to, you do it because you love it.”

“You keep saying things like that.” I set my glass down. “You can do anything you want. Why let yourself be tied down to this?”

“You know why.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never brought it up this much before, so obviously, it’s on your mind and bothering you.”

He sighed, running a hand through his soft hair. “It’s what’s been expected of me since I was born, and things just got a hell of a lot more complicated for me.”

“Because of the divorce.”

“That’s part of it.” He looked as if he wanted to say more, and his eyes were suddenly even more intent on mine in a way that made my stomach flip. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I laughed awkwardly, not really expecting that. I picked up my glass again and took another sip of the whiskey. “That’s such a high school year book question.”

“Hey, we both got friendliest in the superlatives, didn’t we?”

“We did.”

“And most good-looking.”

I felt myself smile wider. “We did.”

“And king and queen.”

“Yep.”

“And most driven.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling. “Where are you getting at with this?”

“Maybe our fellow classmates were on to something.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning maybe we’re perfect for each other. Always were.”

My smile dropped shakily. I thought the point was not to get attached. Why was he bringing this up? “Do you believe that?”

“I do.”

“So why did we have a conversation about being careful and all that jazz?”

“Because you’re leaving and a relationship would be impossible to maintain.”

I swallowed. “Where does Camryn fit into all of this?”

“Why do you keep bringing her up?” His brows pulled together as if he were trying to figure out a confusing equation.

“Because just the other day, she walked out of your office with lipstick smeared all over her face.” He exhaled heavily, dragging his hand through his hair again. I waited. When he didn’t respond, I continued, “I know you think she and I have some sort of competition for your affection, but I want no part of it. I’m not a teenager anymore. I know my worth and—”

“Tessa.” His tone and the way he leaned in made me shut my mouth. “When it comes to you, there’s never any competition. You blow everyone else out of the water.”

“So why do I feel like I’m always in last place with you? Like I’m always left wading in the water while everyone else has a place on your blue canoe?”

His brows rose in surprise. “You really feel that way?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

He gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. “And here I was thinking I was chasing after you all along.”

“Look.” I set my glass down again. “I agree with you on this—I’m leaving in a few days. I don’t want a relationship. I’m not looking to settle down with you and start a family. Not that you’d want that anyway.” I shot him a look. He simply stared. Waiting. “I just don’t want to feel like the other woman in this. I don’t want to do more with you and feel like you’re cheating on her with me, and saying you and I are perfect for each other . . . well, that’s just confusing.”

“You would never be the other woman,” he said. “You don’t believe in love, you don’t want to get married, you just want to hook up. I don’t believe in love, marriage, and I just want to hook up. That equation equals perfect. As far as Camryn goes, did she try to hook up with me the other day? Yes. Did she kiss me in my office? Yes. Did I entertain it? Fuck no. Why would I do that knowing you would be there?”

“Because you saw me kiss your brother and you wanted payback.”

He flushed and looked away. I rolled my eyes. Typical Rowan. He did want payback, whether he planned it or not. “You’re so childish sometimes.”

“I’ll own that accusation.” He looked into my eyes again before reaching over and caressing the top of my left hand. My heart wiggled. “I’m a jealous bastard when it comes to you. You know that.”

My heart dipped. When he talked about shooing guys away, he’d said he was a selfish bastard, not a jealous one. “I wasn’t aware you were capable of feeling jealous.”

He shot me a look. I smiled. We asked for the bill and walked hand in hand back to the hotel. As we went up the elevator, I felt like I might just die right there. There was absolutely no coy way of starting this. It surprised me that I even felt this worked up about it, being that we’d been to this rodeo. Sure, this time it would be more. But there was no other reason for two people this sexually attracted to each other to share a bed. I felt his breath on my neck as I shakily unlocked the door, his lips on the slope of my shoulder, where he dropped an openmouthed kiss. My eyes slammed shut, my heart pitter-pattered with raw excitement and need.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, he shut it behind us and turned me around, pinning me against it as his lips came down onto mine. His mouth was a jolt of excitement, but the kiss was softer than I expected. His lips moved with the sensuality of a lost lover, the feel of his tongue stroking mine in a soft caress, his fingers threading into the hair at the nape of my neck, tilting my face, seeking more. I dropped my key, my purse, and wrapped my arms around his neck, molding against him, needing to erase the inches of space between us. When he broke the kiss, just as slowly as he had started it, our lips took their time parting ways.

“You’re sure about this,” he said.

“Positive.”

“If you ever want to stop—”

I pulled him into another kiss. He nibbled on my bottom lip, I returned the favor, and when our faces were inches from each other’s again, I looked into his dark, lust-filled gaze and felt my stomach sinking farther to its knees.

“I want you on our bed,” he breathed. Our bed.

I took his hand and led him to the room. When I turned around to face him, my breath caught at the wolfish, sensual smile on his face. His gaze lingered over me, traveling down my body in a slow caress that burned every inch it explored.

“Do something,” I whispered.

“I fully intend to.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine as he closed the distance between us and dipped his face. His mouth touched my forehead as he brought his hands behind me and unzipped my dress. I shrug my arms out of it and let him tug it past my hips so that it fell and pooled at my feet. “You look stunning tonight, by the way,” he said, the husk in his voice making the butterflies in my stomach summersault.

He caught my gratitude in his mouth as his lips came down on mine. With deft fingers, he unhooked my bra and pulled it away from me as I stepped out of the dress and walked with him toward the bed, lowering my hands to the buttons of his shirt and undoing one with each step, my eyes on the task as he watched me. When I pulled his shirt open and reveal his taut, muscular, tan stomach, I paused for a beat and then leaned in and placed a kiss on the center of his chest, licked the perfectly dented line between his pecks. He sucked in a sharp breath as I licked my way down, his hands coming up to either one of my shoulders. For a moment, I thought he was going to pull me up again, but he left his hands there as I made my way to the elastic of his boxers.

My name was a broken whisper from his lips. I glanced up through my lashes and caught his lustful stare as I pulled down his boxers. He kicked away his clothes, threw his shirt to the floor, and put his hands on my head. I pressed kisses up and down his shaft, ran my tongue over it, and added my hand into the mix. His breathing became labored, his fingers tightened in my hair. I opened my mouth and swirled my tongue around the tip, loving the way he pulsed and got harder. I stroked him and sucked in a synchronized motion, slowly at first, then faster, then slowing down again. He groaned and groaned and pulled my hair, panting my name.

“My turn,” he grit out on a restrained breath.

I shook my head, sucking again. He tightened his fingers even more, pulling me away so that his cock was no longer within my mouth’s reach. With his hand on my neck, he slowly pulled me up to stand and leaned down to capture my mouth with his, his tongue diving in with force, swirling around mine and amplifying my arousal. My fingers dug into his biceps. He pushed me away and settled into the center of the bed, his hard, veined cock springing up between his muscled legs and perfect six-pack. He was perfection. I settle between his legs, which were hanging from the bed, and began to climb over him, stopping just before our centers met. He shook his head, eyes hot on mine.

“Come sit on my face.”

I felt his words in my core and hesitated, unsure if I could even last long enough to do that, but his fingers dug into my thighs and pulled me up, positioning me the way he wanted. He teased me only for a moment, slowly licking my clit before he started to suck, holding me perfectly in the center of his mouth so that I didn’t stand a chance. I shattered, and shattered . . . and shattered, as he alternated between sucking my clit and laving his tongue over me. He turned us over in a whoosh so that my back was pressed against the bed and he was on top of me, caging me as if I’d think to go anywhere. He brought his pelvis down, his cock rubbing against me as I whimpered, shook, completely wrung out but still spiraling with a need so great that my entire nervous system seemed to tremble with it.

“I need you to—”

“I know what you need,” he said gravelly. I opened my eyes and met his, my heart pitter-pattering. How many times had I envisioned this moment? So many that it felt as if I’d summoned it to life, with him looking at me through hazy eyes, clouded with lust and something else, something that both terrified and excited me because I’d never seen him look at anyone else that way. He braced himself on either side of me and shifted so that his tip touched my folds. He thrust, and I gasped, arching, bracing myself, but he didn’t push in. I frowned, looking up at him, realizing that I was completely panting.

“You need to calm down, sweetheart,” he said in the sweetest voice, and I felt myself melt a little. Some of the pressure lifted from my shoulders as I breathed out and gave a little nod.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He watched me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “You said you’ve done this before.”

“Of course I have.” I scoffed. “I’m twenty-four.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, he moved again, pulling out completely and rubbing his pulsing cock over my clit. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, but holy moly my body was on fire.

“Tessa,” he said. “Did you fuck that guy in college?”

“I did.” I really did. I wasn’t lying about that. It just may have been the one and only time I fucked anyone in college, though. His eyes searched mine rapidly.

He let out a slow breath that was followed by a string of curses as he rested his forehead on mine. “Was he the only time?”

“I’ve fooled around plenty of times,” I said, offended. Just because I didn’t have his experience didn’t mean I didn’t know what I was doing. I watched plenty of porn.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, baby,” he whispered. “I just want to know how slow to take it.”

“Just please, please, please, please, please fuck me.”

That seemed to break through his uncertainty. He pushed himself inside me ever-so-slowly, torturously slowly, stretching me.

“You okay?”

I nodded, eyes wide, afraid to speak. He leaned down a bit and kept going, pushing deep and hard once until he was completely inside me.

“Fucking heaven, Tessa,” he muttered against my neck. “You feel like fucking heaven.”

I arched my back, wrapped my legs around his waist, and pushed against him. He cursed again. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last. Swear to God, I won’t.” His words were choppy pants as he continued to thrust into me, slowly at first, so slowly I felt the burn spread through my veins and simmer as my eyes rolled back. Then, he picked up the movement and began to move faster, harder, his hand closing around my throat as he ground into me. For a moment, I feared I’d pass out from it—the hand, the way he was fucking me as if he never wanted to come up for air, the way his eyes stayed steady on mine as if he didn’t care whether he did or not.

“Do you know how many time I pictured this?” he asked. “How many times I envisioned tearing off your clothes and fucking you like this?”

I moaned, feeling a spike of adrenaline shoot through my veins. My eyes rolled back. “Please don’t stop.”

“Never stopping.” His fingers found my clit as he continued his thrusts. He was playing my body, and I sank into the rhythm of his hips, the strum of his fingers, the cadence of his words, and when I felt the build of my orgasm, the one I thought I wouldn’t reach again after the one he gave me with his mouth, I reached for him, but he grabbed my wrists in one hand and held them over my head. My gaze dropped to the way the muscles in his abdomen contracted with each movement. When I looked back up, I focused on the clench of his jaw and the dark haze of lust in his eyes. He anchored me with that gaze, with his hand over my wrists, with every single motion of his ruthless fucking. He moaned, murmured something I couldn’t quite capture as he moved a hand underneath my ass and, without pulling out, shifted so that he was sitting and I was straddling him. It was supposed to be a position that shifted the balance, the power, except Rowan still held it all. He held me as he fucked me from beneath. He held my gaze as he moved me up and down on his slippery, thick cock. He went in deeper this way, deeper in a way that stole my breath, my words . . . my thoughts.

“Tessa,” he said over and over and over like a mantra. “My Tessa.”

I’d never forget that. Not the way he said my name and not the way he looked at me as he said it. My heart felt like it was on the brink of exploding, and that was when I shattered around him, with his name spilling from my lips. He groaned mine out as he spilled himself inside me, pushing in with one final, hard motion, as to ensure I would never stop feeling him there. As our breaths recovered, he loosened his hold on me, and I untangled my legs from his waist. He blinked, looking at me with clear eyes, and brought his lips down to mine and kissed me again, softly, taking his time, saying things neither one of us would ever say aloud. And then we slept.