I couldn’t believe I’d just taken her virginity. And done it far more roughly than I’d intended. I winced at the thought of hurting her.

She sighed beneath me and lazily ran her fingers in my hair.

“Did I hurt you?” I lifted my head to look into her eyes, dreading I would see pain in them.

She nodded and bit her lip. “Yes. Can we do it again?”

I laughed and put my palm on her cheek. “As many times as you want.”

She grinned and my heart, which was already beating rapidly, sped up. She was radiant, her skin pinked from her exertions and her eyes a sparkling blue. I kissed her, gently this time, and savored her taste. I wanted to stay inside her, but I wasn’t sure what was in store for her since she’d been a virgin.

I backed away slowly and looked down. I quirked my head to the side. No blood or anything dramatic. I looked back up to her, and she was peering down, too, no doubt looking for the same thing I was.

She smiled and lay back. “Good. I read it’s different for everyone.”

I moved back on top of her and kissed her before resting my forehead on hers. “How was it for you?”

She looked up, pretending to give it some deep thought. “I would say it was . . . hmm . . . Let me think—”

I bit her bottom lip and pulled it into my mouth.

“Mmm.” She ran her hands through my hair. “It was better than I ever imagined.”

Pride roared to life inside my chest. I had given her a great first time. I wanted to get up and strut around the apartment complex. Fuck that, the block.

She ran her hand down to my cheek and cupped it. I leaned into her light touch.

“So, what happens now?” she asked.

“Now.” I dropped another kiss on her lips before getting to my feet. “I bring you some tissues, we clean up, then you come over to my place for a late night snack.”

I went to her bathroom and smiled at all the girly items on the counter – face creams, lotions, and hair products. Then I took her the tissue and helped her clean up.

Pulling on my shorts, I looked at her over my shoulder. “Wear PJs. You’re spending the night.”

Her eyebrows went up as I walked out. She shouldn’t have been surprised. When I’d said she was mine, I’d meant it. I knew from the moment I’d first seen her that she was something special, something that I had to have. The more I learned about her, the more I knew it was true. Love at first sight. I didn’t think it was remotely possible until the day I’d seen her, the day I’d finally laid eyes on the one made for me. And then I was a believer.

I went to my apartment kitchen and, after turning the sound system on low, started making some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, midnight snack of champions. I glanced over to the clock. It was only five more minutes until midnight. Until Valentine’s day. I smiled. I’d never had a “Valentine” before. Never kept a girl around long enough to indulge in the holiday with her. But with Jess? I was going to go all out on romance. I wish I’d planned it better, but I wouldn’t change the way it went down for a second.

When I was finishing up with the last one, I heard my door open.

“Michael?” Her voice, but now shot through with shyness.

Her hesitant movements had me smirking and my cock hardening. I would bring the wildcat back out, and sooner rather than later. “Come in and lock it behind you.”

“Okay.” The lock clicked over and she padded into my galley kitchen.

I almost dropped the butter knife. She wore a tank top, no bra, and her nipples were hard enough to cut glass. On the bottom, a set of shorts with lace around the edges. It was a matching set, and I wanted it matching in a torn heap on the floor.

She fidgeted under my stare and crossed her arms over her chest.

“No.” I was on her in the blink of an eye, one hand in her hair and the other pushing her arms down. “I want to see you.”

She gasped and stared up at me, her guileless eyes bright. Slowly, she let her arms fall.

I backed away and took my time looking her over. She was a curvy hourglass. Her long, dark hair draped over her shoulder and her mouth was the perfect pout. There must have been countless men who’d tried for her. I stood a little straighter knowing she’d saved herself and given it all to me.

“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” I wanted to get my camera out right then and there. But it could wait. I had to taste her again first.

She blushed and dropped her gaze. “No.”

I put my index finger under her chin and lifted her eyes back to mine. “I have never seen anything more beautiful.”

“But you photograph models all day . . . Or all night, I guess.”

“Those girls don’t hold a candle. And they certainly don’t hold my interest.” I used to date models. They were easy and available. Not anymore.

I leaned in and brushed my lips across hers. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back for me. I ran my hand down her throat, to her collar bone, and then lower to her breast. It was somewhat more than a handful, firm and yet still soft. Perfect.

Her stomach growled, and she opened her eyes. “Sorry. I skipped dinner.”

I didn’t want to let her go, but more important than my need to claim her was my need to take care of her.

“You came to the right place. Have a seat.”

“Those look good.” She gestured to the sandwiches with a graceful movement. “I’m starving.”

I poured two glasses of milk, and we sat at the small bar.

“So,” she said in between bites, “I know a few things about you, but not everything. Do you do this a lot?”

“What? Seduce virgins?”

She snorted. “Um, no. I guess I meant have sleepovers with strange women?”

“No. Like I said, I make no bones about my past. I’ve been with a lot of women.”

She flinched a little at my words. I took her hand and pressed it between mine.

“But that was before you.”

“You don’t know me.” She shook her head.

“At the risk of sounding like a total stalker, I know you’re about to go to law school. I know you worked your way through undergraduate. I know your parents have never really supported you and that everything you’ve done, you’ve done on your own. You’ve been on Dean’s List every semester. You volunteer at the Humane Society even though you’re allergic to cats. I could go on but I don’t want you to run out the door.”

She put her glass of milk down. “How do you know all that?”

My stomach twisted. I didn’t want her to think I was a perv or something. “Social media snooping and, well, I own the building, so I did a background check on you when you moved in.”

She stared at me, her mouth slightly open.

“But it’s not like I put cameras in your apartment or anything,” I hurriedly added. Had I thought about it? I plead the Fifth.

“What?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Wait, you own the building?”

I tossed my napkin on the bar and leaned back. “Yeah. Bought it two years ago.”

She drank down the rest of her milk, as if buying time to think.

“Tell me what you know about me. Don’t hold back. I know you’ve done your homework, too.” I smiled remembering how many times I’d caught her watching me.

“Well, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and met my eyes. “I know you have a, um, darker past. That you’ve been to prison. That you are notorious for getting with models at your shoots—”

“Not anymore,” I interjected.

She nodded. “Okay, so you were notorious for that. That you’re one of the most sought-after photographers in town. That you ride a motorcycle and have a penchant for fast cars. And that you make my heart do this weird stutter step whenever I see you.” Her eyes grew wide when she finished her last sentence, and she looked away.

Her honesty was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.

“I feel it, too.”

“You do?” She watched me through her lashes.

“Yes.”

“Then what took you so long to-to . . .”

“To talk to you?” I ran my fingers through her hair.

“Yes.”

“I had some work to do.”

She canted her head to the side. I had to explain, but hated telling her the whole, ugly truth. Still, it had to be done.

“Work on myself, really, is what it amounts to. What you said about the women.” I rolled my shoulders, suddenly nervous. “That was true. I didn’t want to be that man anymore. I didn’t want to get black out drunk or high as a kite after a shoot and wake up with strange women in my bed. That wasn’t good enough for you.” I took her hands in mine as I laid myself bare. “I wasn’t good enough for you. The moment I saw you, I knew. I knew it in my bones. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true. I just needed some time to get my shit together.”

Her eyes opened wider as I spoke. “For me?”

“All for you. Yes.” I kissed her fingertips. “I still shoot at night. But I don’t sleep with models. I barely even drink anymore and I haven’t touched powder in months. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to ride my bike. I’m still going to get inked and pierced and probably get into fights. I’m still going to be me, but I want to be the best version of me possible. Because that’s what you deserve.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and I wiped it away.

“Is it too much?”

She cleared her throat, the tears thick in the sounds. “No.” She kissed me, all shyness gone. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she licked my lips and moved her hands to the back of my neck.

She was sweet from her sandwich and cool from the milk. But her body was pure heat. I ran my hands to her waist and edged my fingers under her top. My palms were itching for her skin. Chill bumps erupted along her sides as I moved my hands up to her ribs, pushing the fabric from her as I went.

She kissed down my jaw and licked along the swirl of ink at the side of my neck. I groaned and pulled her to me, her hot cunt straddling my leg. My cock was already back in fighting form, pushing at my shorts and trying to get to the sweet paradise between her thighs.

I pushed her top the rest of the way up and cupped her breasts, running my thumb over the erect tips. She slid her hands down my chest, her fingertips pressing against me and feeling every ridge and ripple as she went. When her fingers reached under the waistband of my shorts at the same time she nipped at my neck, I had to take her hands and pull them away.

“Can you do this again so soon? Because if we keep going like this, I can’t stop. I won’t.” I couldn’t be anything but honest with her. I already wavered on the edge of throwing her onto the kitchen floor and fucking her black and blue.

“I want to.” She strained against my hold, her fingers seeking my cock.

Fuck. I released her and she reached into my shorts and palmed me. When she made contact, I hissed.

“So that’s what it feels like.” She smiled.

I let my head loll back as her fingers explored me. Then her mouth was on my nipple, teasing the barbell and running her teeth along the raised skin. My hips jerked as she squeezed my length in her small palm. I refused to come in her hand, but if she didn’t stop, I would.

“Come on.” I pulled her to me and lifted her under her thighs.

I was almost to my bedroom when a loud bang shattered the relative stillness of my apartment.

“Michael? It’s Layla. Want to be my slutty valentine again this year?” Her words were slurred.

Jess tensed in my arms and my heart sank. No matter how much I’d tried to change for her, my past was still there. She pushed against my hands so she could stand up.

I reluctantly let her go.

“It’s okay. I’ll just . . . I’ll just go back to my place.” She studied her feet, her dark hair hiding her eyes.

I put my hands on her shoulders. “That’s my past. You’re my future. I’m sorry. Please, stay.”

“Michael!” Layla called and banged on the door some more. I didn’t remember her, not even a little.

“I just can’t.” She sidestepped me and walked away. I wanted to grab her, to tie her to my bed, to do anything but let her walk away. I didn’t. I wanted her to choose me as freely as I’d chosen her.