Despite the late night, the lack of sleep, I wake before my alarm, still wrapped around the body I brought back to my room.

Gracyn laughed at my boxers last night, but my trunk is happily nestled up against her ass, warm, stiff, and perfectly cradled between the round globes. I rub my nose along the back of her neck, placing soft kisses as I go, hoping for a reaction. When I get nothing beyond a sigh, I switch to open-mouthed, wet kisses and throw in a nibble here and there until she squirms, arching her back, pressing that ass into me.

My groan is what finally wakes her, and Gracyn startles.

“Morning,” I mumble against her skin, thrusting my aching dick against her.

“God, what are you doing to me?” Gracyn asks the question, but she knows exactly what’s happening. She wiggles, ass grinding, hips swirling, driving me out of my fucking mind.

I run my hand down her side, mapping and caressing every dip and curve until I slide my hand around the front of her panties, teasing the top band with my fingers. I pause, thinking I should probably stop and see where her head is, but typical Gracyn tries to take over, shoving my hand down over her mound and grinding against my palm.

Her head seems to be in the same place as mine. But I’ll be fucked if we’re going to have another power struggle right now. We’ve been through this shit, settled it in Florida, and I’ve got her covered. She whimpers when I pull my hand away from where she was fully enjoying the friction and tries to roll so that she’s facing me.

I hiss at the sting when her shoulder rubs across my pierced nip, and I feel it zing straight through to my cock. “God love you, Gracyn,” I groan. I bite down on her shoulder keeping her in place, trying not to blow my load way too fucking early.

Her moan vibrates in the negligible space between us as I slide my hand back up her body, skimming over her stomach and giving her nipple a good, hard pinch as I pass over it to give her a small hint of what she just did to me. Her sharp gasp ends in a sigh as my palm settles against her throat. This girl puts up a fight at every turn, but as we slip back into what is our comfortable place, the push and pull, the roles we established in our few days at the beach, she gives in to me.

And hands over all of her trust.

“Gavin,” she sighs on a moan, pushing her throat deeper into my palm. “Please.”

“What, babe? What do you want?”

Her pulse thrums against my fingers, each desperate breath pushing her harder against my hand.

She arches again, shoving that ass hard against me, lifting it up, opening herself to me.

“You. I want you.”

I shove my briefs down as Gracyn wiggles and shimmies, trying to get her panties gone. I want to just push them to the side and slide in, but goddamn it, I am fucking responsible.

“You get rid of those, and I’ll be right back,” I growl against her neck.

Letting go, I rummage through my bag, finding a strip of condoms. I kick my briefs to the floor as Gracyn peels away her shirt and panties. Dick properly wrapped, I roll her to her back, settle myself between her legs, and push. This is not a lazy morning fuck. This is eighteen months of looking for her, searching crowds, and finally—finally—finding her.

“Holy shit, you feel like heaven,” I grunt as my dick is practically strangled by her slick heat.

Time and distance, push and pull. None of that matters as we find our rhythm.

Drag.

Slide.

Thrust for thrust, we pick up exactly where we left off. Shuddering and straining, I hold myself back until her body trembles, her heels digging into my ass, her gasps and moans filling the air between us.

My hand finds its way back to her neck, squeezing, applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Gavin … I’m … ung—God … I’m …” she rasps, the words barely audible, and she fucking lets go.

I try. I try hard to hold out and keep my shit together, wanting to make sure to wring every last bit of her orgasm from her, but the sight of Gracyn completely giving over to ecstasy is too fucking much for me. And, without further ado, I blow.

My mind. My load. My last shreds of reserve.

I swear to God, I black out for a heartbeat, welcoming death if this is how it comes for me.

I drag my hand from Gracyn’s delicate neck, trailing my fingers down, across her collarbone, and to the swell of her breasts, settling over the rhythmic beat of her heart. Her eyes glisten, pupils blown wide as she takes in the intensity of that fucking orgasm. Yeah, that was new.

My lips skate across her jawline as I settle next to her. Tying a knot in the condom, I chuck it toward the trash. I pull her into me, rolling her until her back is pressed tightly to my front. Seeking that spot on the back of her neck, the one I dream about, I gently press a kiss there.

“Good morning,” I mumble against her sweat-dampened skin and drift off until my alarm—maybe hers—rips us from this blissful cocoon.

Tempted as I am to walk her into the office and piss a circle around her so that asshole knows to stay the fuck back, I won’t. I can’t. Nothing would piss her off more, and I have a meeting I’m already late for. I will respect Gracyn’s professionalism and not be a dick.

“What time are you done today?” I stop her before she walks into the building, not wanting to let her go just yet.

“I should be done around seven, I think. I don’t know if I can work much longer than that without my eyes crossing.”

I’ll make your eyes cross. And roll back in your head as you scream my name.

“You want me to come up and grab you from the office or wait down here?” I shift my weight, boxing her in against the cool gray marble, angling for another kiss.

“No.” Her hand lands in the center of my chest, holding me back.

“No? No to which part, G?”

She pushes firmly, and I give, just a little, knowing full well that, if she really wanted, she could move me.

And how fucking sexy is that?

“I’ll meet you in the hotel bar or something. We can figure out what to do then.”

“Why don’t you just meet me in bed, naked? Nothing to figure out. I know exactly what to do.”

“No key, genius,” she says, pushing up on me again. She thinks she’s such a fucking smart-ass.

“I put your name on the room. Just grab one from the front desk, and I’ll see you up there.” I take a kiss before pulling my beanie low on my head and walking away. I took the kiss because she doesn’t give an inch when her feathers are ruffled, and damn, are they ruffled.

I grab a cab at the corner and book it across Midtown, busting through the doors of our label’s office only a half hour late.

“Rand, man, what’s happening?”

Our manager looks at the clock above the door and nails me with a glare that screams annoyance.

“We have dates yet?” I ask, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge in the lobby on my way through to the conference room.

Nate is standing at the window, his phone pressed to his ear, staring off into the distance. Ian is tapping a beat to whatever music is pounding through his earbuds, and Kane’s lying on his back, ankles crossed, in the center of the conference table. Beer in one hand, his balls in the other.

The door swings shut behind Rand, and as miffed as he’s trying to act, he can’t contain the huge smile that stretches across his face.

“Pack your bags, bitches. We have studio time scheduled with Slick, y’all, and six additional cities added to the tour.” His shoulders jump up and down as he exuberantly claps his hands. “I have your flights booked, a house rented in LA, and you still owe me a song.” He turns and nails me with a pointed look.