“I received a very strange package from Jackson Cade this morning,” my father says, greeting me at the front door when I go in to work the next afternoon. My heart thunders against my ribcage, but I smooth the look of surprise from my features. It’s only been a day since I paid Jackson. Since I figure it will take at least a week to settle all the details for the deed, I’m wondering just what the hell he sent my father, especially after I lost all my inhibitions last night on the phone with him.

“He did?” Dad’s right on my heels as I enter the back hallway to grab my apron from the rack. “And just what exactly did Mr. Cade send you?”

He offers me an impatient frown. “It was the deed to the building, Felicity.” My muscles relax. Damn, Jackson’s lawyers work fast. “He also included a note. Thank your Little Flick for this. What’s going on?”

“I got a personal loan,” I lie because telling my father the truth will only break his heart and lead to a meltdown in the middle of the restaurant. “I went to see Mr. Cade yesterday afternoon and paid off the balance of the loan.”

Dad stops me before I can walk around him, planting his hands on either side of my shoulders. “You went out and got a personal loan to help me?” Emotion weighs his voice, and I choke down the bubble in my throat as I bob my head. “Is that why he was in here last week?”

Oh, god, he knows about that? Struggling to maintain an even smile, I pull out of his grip and shrug one shoulder. “I had visited his office before—right after you told me what was going on. When I called him last week to let him know the bank approved me, he wanted to speak to me again in person.” Dad pinches his lips in worry, so I stand on my toes and peck his cheek. “We’ll pay the loan back, I promise.”

Based on what Jackson had said before we disconnected our call last night—“Your ass is mine in a couple nights, Flick.”—I don’t think it will be long before I fulfill every part of my obligation.

“I didn’t want you to go through all the stress,” Dad complains, and I kiss his other cheek and roll my eyes up toward the ceiling.

“I’d stress more if we lost this place.”

“Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to—”

“It’s over now,” I say firmly. Because like Jackson told me that first night in his penthouse, there are no refunds. Taking a step away from Dad, I focus on tying my apron strings and clear my throat. “And besides, this place was Mom’s baby. She would be happy we saved it.”

Dad pulls me to him and wraps me up tightly, burying his mouth in my hair. “Thank you, Flick. Just … thank you.”

“Anytime old man,” I murmur, moisture pricking at my eyes. “Now let me go before we start losing customers.”

I go through my shift on autopilot, smiling brightly at my customers. Taking order after order back to the kitchen. Feeling my sex throb because every few hours, Jackson updates me with a countdown on the ridiculously expensive phone he sent me as a gift yesterday. Just before I leave for the evening, he sends the final text:

6:01 PM: Twenty-three hours, Little Flick. I hope you get rest tonight.

* * *

I’m a flurry of nervous anticipation all throughout the next day, and when he sends me a text telling me he’ll pick me up at eight, my breath shudders. I never thought the day would come where I’d be so anxious about giving up my V-card to a Cade, but god if my body doesn’t hum whenever I get a new text alert from him.

Dressing in the red dress—my only frivolous splurge with the money that had cleared my account earlier this week—and my new strappy black sandals, I’m putting on lip gloss when the doorbell rings. Although Wendy’s out for the night, I almost break my neck trying to answer it. He stands in the hall, wearing a black suit that fits his perfectly sculpted body to perfection, and his customary smirk. It widens to a full grin as he takes me in.

“Red,” he drawls, pulling me to him and trailing his hands over me. He inhales appreciatively through his teeth while I hold my breath. “How fitting. Are you ready?”

As I’ll ever be. To him, I simply tilt my head back to stare into his turquoise eyes, nod and say, “Yes.”

He takes me to dinner—a swanky rooftop lounge with a view of the city I love so much. This part of the restaurant is exclusive, only a handful dine up here, but I don’t think I would have noticed even if we were shoulder-to-shoulder with other people. When Jackson is around, it’s hard to focus on anyone else because his presence is so commanding. The energy pulses between us.

“Thank you for taking care of the deed so quickly,” I say, chewing my grilled chicken salad. “I think it made my father’s decade.”

The smile he offers me is the softest I’ve ever seen from him. “Your father wasn’t the reason I had it handled so fast, Flick.”

He doesn’t say the words, but they hang in the air. I did it for you. My fingers shake nervously as I reach for my fruity cocktail and take a sip. “How was your trip?”

“Exhausting. My father made a mess of the company, and it’s been hell fixing his mistakes.” The corners of his mouth drag into a frown. “Fortunately, I’ve turned it all around. Here’s to rectifying the sins of our fathers.”

When he lifts his drink and downs it quickly, I work my lips together. He doesn’t talk about his father much, but whenever he does, there’s always an underlying anger. It’s not my place to ask questions—I shouldn’t ask questions—but my mouth fails my brain. “You don’t care for Alexander very much, do you?”

He sets his empty glass on the table and he tightens his fists. “I don’t. I admire you for what you did for your father—goddamn, I think you might be the most selfless person I ever met—but I would have never done it for mine.”

“Because of what he did to your company?”

Jackson shakes his head and releases a dark laugh. “I wish. I wouldn’t have done it because his character is garbage. My mother died when I was twelve—breast cancer. I was away at boarding school in Connecticut, but Alexander refused to let me come home before she took a turn for the worse. Said it would make me weak.” My breath catches, and I hold it, waiting for him to continue. “She died about a month after I returned for summer break. She had a full staff of nurses and doctors on call then, but she kept this … brave face for all of them.”

“You must have really loved her,” I say softly, and a distant smile touches his lips.

“I did. And I can still remember hearing her cry once all those doctors and nurses were gone. Alexander had a mistress—mistresses—and once he realized there was no way my mother could take half of everything he owned, he gave up on discretion. My father has fucked me over my entire life, but that’s the only one that meant a damn.”

“Oh god,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.” I cover his hand with mine, and he stares down at it for a moment before spreading his fingers apart and stroking the insides of mine.

“It’s not your fault, sweet. But let’s not focus on Alexander, hmm?” He’s a true businessman because the agitation fades from his features as he slides his chair close to mine. His fingers touch my thigh. “I’d rather talk about you. And me.”

Beneath the table, his talented fingers spread my legs apart, rubbing my clit and pussy until my panties and thighs are soaked. “That’s not talking,” I murmur.

“Bodies can talk,” he points out with a wicked smirk. “Trust me, I’ll have yours speaking in five different languages before the sun comes up tomorrow. You’re not going to sleep tonight, Little Flick. I won’t let you.”

“You’re always so very sure of yourself.”

“And the fact you doubt everything I say makes me want to spank that little ass until you can’t sit down.” He rolls my clit between his fingers and laughs at me when I pinch my lips together in agony. What he’s doing to me feels so good it scares me. “Of course, I have other ways to keep you from sitting down as well.”

Pretending that I’m not seconds from climaxing on the rooftop of Chicago’s fanciest restaurant, I spear my fork in my salad and bring it to my mouth, nearly missing. “I was right about not being on my knees for you in less than seven days.”

“That,” he growls, lowering his mouth to my ear, “makes me want to spank you even harder.”

“Would you like dessert this evening, Mr. Cade?” our waitress, a pretty blonde, asks breathlessly, drawing both our attention up to her. He gives my clit one more tug, then snaps my panties back in place as he greets the waitress with a charming smile. She flutters her fake eyelashes at him. That irritation I felt when Brooke showed interest in him comes back to rear its ugly head, but this time, I don’t squash it down. I glare at her over the rim of my cocktail as I down the last few sips.

“Not tonight, Gretchen,” he says, pissing me off that he knows her name, then turning me on when he touches his finger to his lip. His next move is subtle, and I’m pretty sure only I can tell what he’s doing, but my body melts because he’s tasting me off his finger. “We’re having dessert elsewhere tonight.”

“We’re going somewhere else?” I ask as he walks me to his car. He glides his hand down my spine until it rests right above my ass.

“Chez Felicity,” he confirms. I blush all over, and he smirks, holding my door open for me. “And every time you get jealous, I swear my dick gets a little harder. Maybe we should—”

A wave of courage hits me hard, and I bring him to me by his red tie, wrapping my hand around the thin fabric. “Please.”

His turquoise eyes widen in a look of surprise that he manages lightning fast. “I told you I’d make you beg for it.”

“Like I said before, you gave me a week. It’s been ten days.”

The corner of his mouth twitches and then, so does his hand. Directly on my ass cheek. I gasp and he chuckles. “Go ahead, be as smug as you want. We’ll see who’s on top in a little while.”

I don’t say a word on the ride to The Brighton, which I had learned over dinner is actually his temporary home while he has his condo remodeled. We stand several lengths apart in the elevator, our faces pointed straight ahead but our eyes locked, thanks to our reflections in the gleaming steel door. My knees nearly fail me as he swipes his room key. My body aches because I know what’s coming next when he pulls me in the penthouse.

And my heart—oh god, my heart is a mess. It’s like a hard fist in my body, and no matter what I say or do, that feeling won’t go away tonight. I’m not even sure I want it to.

Jerking me to him, he gathers me in his arms, his warm breath fanning my ear. “I really should turn you over my knee for what you said back at the restaurant.” He tugs my small hoop earring between his teeth. I spread my fingers on his chest and I’m shocked that his heart is just as erratic as mine. “There are so many things I should do because you’re so goddamn infuriating, but I just want to be inside of you.”

“Yes,” I gasp as he drops my earring. He kisses me, tongues a hot trail down my neck to my breasts while his hands rip at my zipper. He lets the dress fall around my ankles, takes a step back and presses his fist to his mouth. The way he looks at me—like it’s the first time he’s ever seen me—raises a wall around me. I lift my arms to hug them around my bare breasts, but he shakes his head.

“If you cover your perfect body, Flick, I really will spank that ass until you can’t sit for a week.”

For some reason, I believe him. Although I only had one drink tonight, I walk as if I’m drunk as he leads me into the bedroom. The lamps are off, but the city lights streaming through the open floor-to-ceiling windows cast a breathtaking glow over his body. He reaches out to me again and I shiver when his hands span my narrow waist.

“You are beautiful, Flick.” He kisses my throat, making my pulse leap against his mouth. “So perfect and soft. God, why did it take me so long to find you?”

His words make my body sing and that feeling of being completely inebriated intensifies as he lifts me up, coaxing me to wrap my legs around his waist. I tug at his red tie. He responds by arching me back and drawing my nipple between his teeth. “That feels so good,” I murmur. “So fucking good.”

“Say that one more time,” he orders, and I obey, dragging a noise from the back of his throat that makes me even more desperate to get his clothes off. It’s not fair—that I’m nearly naked again but he’s fully dressed. He chuckles when my fingers wrap around his tie. Licking my nipple one final time, he straightens my body, sets me on my feet and strokes my hand to his erection. “Your focus should be here, sweet. Let me worry about everything else.”

“I want you,” I whisper, stunned at how confident I sound as I undo his belt to touch his cock. I stroke my fingers over him, just like he taught me. “Good god, I want you so bad, Jackson.”

His lips cover mine desperately, hungrily. I return his kiss without hesitation, my heart beating faster as I feel his fingers between us, working the buttons on his shirt loose. After he shrugs it off, giving me access to his toned golden body, I place one hand over his chest and give his cock another tug. I’m thrilled when a moan of pleasure pushes past his lips.

“I love it when my greedy Little Flick comes out to play.”

“Touch me,” I respond.

His blue-green irises darken with lust, and he licks his lips. Taking me to the bed, he lays me back then hovers his body over mine. “Tell me what you want.”

My entire body hums, and he’s not even started. “Everything,” I whisper.

Groaning, he traces his rough fingertips down my arms to cup my breasts. He plumps them, squeezing them together, before he takes my nipple between his teeth. My harsh gasp of pleasure breaks the silence in the room, and I arch my back.

“You taste so delicious, Flick.” He rolls my nipple between his fingertips and I squirm around. Of all the feelings in the world, this has to be one of the best—the sensation of his tongue and his teeth tugging at my nipple. I want more. Need it.

“Jackson!” I cry out, and he chuckles.

He pulls away suddenly, but I lift my hips. He slaps my ass. “So impatient to get your sweet little pussy filled, aren’t you?”

Those words alone launch shockwaves through me.

Using some expert sex god magic, he manages to get out of his pants while he explores my mouth with his. Entirely naked now, he dips his hand into my panties, grazing my clit with two fingers.

The heat between my legs is an inferno and it terrifies me. Excites me. Brings me to life.

He rips his mouth from mine to lick my ear. “Do you want more?”

I nod and he slips his finger inside me. I want to tell him how crazy he makes me, but I’m breathing so hard I can’t speak. Pleasure spirals through me, and when he adds another finger, all intelligent thought flies out the window.

“Please,” I beg, giving him what he’s wanted from the very beginning. Me. Demanding that he make good on his promise to fuck me so good, so hard, so right, I’ll forget there’s life outside his bedroom.

He smirks at me. “Say that one more time, Little Flick.”

I moan, bucking my hips against his fingers. “Please, Jackson.”

To my disappointment, he stops. Licks his fingers. Gives me a ferocious grin that curls desire in the pit of my stomach.

“Do you want me inside you, sweet?” he demands, positioning himself between my thighs. I nod. I want him too much. More than anything I’ve ever desired, and it’s scary.

Crashing his mouth to mine, he strokes my clit with his thumb. His lips smother my moans and cries as he pushes my legs further apart so that I’m completely exposed to him. “Please,” I shout.

Keeping his stare level with mine, he pulls his fingers from my sex, replacing it with the head of his cock. He pushes into me slowly, stretching me, gradually filling me with sharp pain and pleasure.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but when he reaches up to smooth them over my cheeks, I turn my lips into his palm and kiss him. “Please … don’t stop.”

Surging forward, he closes the space between us, and I cry out. I’m full. So achingly full, but it feels so right. I move my hips beneath him to get used to the pressure, and he releases a strangled sound.

“Are you sure you want to do that, sweet?” he demands, bending to kiss my earlobe. “You’re going down a dangerous road.”

Gripping his shoulders, I bob my head. “I want to.”

He pulls back, almost pulling out of me before thrusting into me again. I whimper as tingles race beneath my skin. It feels so good. So painfully good that I move my hips in rhythm with his as he thrusts against me.

I moan his name and when he growls mine, it’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard. I want to hear him call for me like this every day. I want to hear his breath coming fast and see his head thrown back in ecstasy.

And I want to feel him.

God, I want so much more of this.

One of his hands covers my breast, kneading it. I bow into his touch, every nerve in my body on fire.

“Yes. Please. More,” I pant as he thrusts into me. He strokes his hand down my body to rub my clit. “Yes.”

Hot pressure floods my body as I reach my climax. I dig my nails into his muscular shoulder as he buries his mouth into my neck, telling me it’s all right to come. That he wants to hear me come. As I come down, he pumps into me harder.

He kisses my ear, my face, my hair and then he lets out a deep groan as he thrusts into me three final times, filling me completely.