The cold water had nothing on the ice running through his veins. He felt it, her fear, pain, regret. It was tangible. She didn’t want more than this week, and she didn’t know how to say it. He could enjoy her for the time he had left, or cut his losses now.

Who was he kidding? He’d never be able to walk away, to let her walk away. No, he needed to convince her there was more to them than carnal curiosity, more than animal pleasure. More to him. He’d vowed years ago not to be any woman’s plaything ever again. Not even Jillian would reduce him to that.

Adjusting the temperature, he reached up and dialed in a massage setting on the showerhead. Closing the glass door, he walked back into the bedroom. He’d left her sitting on the edge of his bed. Now she was lying down, her head on one pillow, her arms squeezing the life out of another. Ben set one knee on the bed behind her back, leaning down and brushing the hair from her face. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips pursed. With quick fingers he undid the snap from the ribbon and pulled it away.

“That’s mine!” Jillian sat up like a shot. Ben stood up and away from the bed. She leapt to her knees, following him to the edge of the bed.

“You’re not ready for it yet.” She reached for it, but he pulled his hand behind his back. “You can’t wear it if I can’t trust you, if you can’t trust me. And you don’t.”

“I do...I’m trying...” Words tried to race out, but were overtaken by the emotion. Crying bothered him. It felt like a manipulation. He stepped back but she grabbed at his shirt, frantically pulling him closer.

He wanted to shove her across the room, push away her attempts to control him. But his body overruled the logic, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him. She buried her face in his chest, holding on to him for dear life.

Pulling air into her lungs, she found herself in a minute. But she held on a minute longer. When her grip loosened he took her face in his hands, wiping the tears with his thumbs.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” She nodded, following behind him with shuffling feet all the way to the bathroom.

Steam made the air thick. Releasing her hand, Ben pulled the shower door aside and stepped around her to the door. She caught his hand, her reddened eyes pleading with him. “Don’t leave.”

“When you feel better, we’ll talk, okay?” He kissed the top of her head, then tried to step away again.

“I don’t want to be alone right now.” Vulnerability cracked her voice—and his resolve to find some space that wasn’t flooded with her.

“I can only stay if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t know.” Her lip trembled before she caught it with her teeth.

“Then I’ll give you some time to figure it out.”

Her hand clenched his as he made a move for the door. “I’m scared. Please, don’t go.”

“You’re scared of my bathroom?”

Her eyes closed, her mouth relaxing into a smile as her head moved from side to side. “No, of us.” The words were barely a whisper, hardly audible over the spray of the shower. Stepping forward, Ben brushed his lips against hers, not a kiss really. More of an assurance. “I love you,” floated from her lips as if carried by a breeze.

He wanted to ask if he’d heard her right, but staring into the liquid green eyes brimming with tears, he knew. She did love him. Bending his head, he captured her lips this time. Answering her declaration with his own.

He could taste the tears on her lips, his essence as her lips parted and he plunged inside. Jillian’s hands busied, untucking his shirt, pulling at the button and zipper of his pants she’d been so skilled with earlier. Bracing his hands against her shoulders, he pushed her past her reach.

The uncertainty in her eyes cut to his soul. “Lose the shirt.”

Her lips curled in a smile before she whipped the thin tank top over her head. She rushed ahead, untying the fringed sash threaded through her jeans without breaking eye contact. Stepping closer, he stilled her hand, opting to undo the button and zipper of her jeans himself.

He peeled back the sides, slipping his fingers beneath the material and reaching around to cup her ass, pulling her against him. She went for his pants again, so he released her and stepped away. She pursed her lips, until he pulled his shirt over his head. Thankfully, he’d left his shoes downstairs, probably to be eaten by the dogs. But that was no matter now.

The pants dropped to the floor, followed quickly by the boxer briefs. He stepped out of them, straight to her. She stood still as a statue, her smiling eyes staring straight at his, even as he pulled a condom from the drawer and sheathed himself.

The steam from the room had already dampened her skin, making it glisten in the fluorescent light. His hands glided over her shoulders, down her arms. He leaned closer, smelling the clean smell of lemons on her hair.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered next to her ear.

Her hair tickled his face as she nodded. He reached back behind him, shutting off the light and kicking the door closed. Blackness surrounded them, thicker than the steamy air. Ben reached for her, running his hands down her hips, beneath the fabric of her jeans.

Her back arched, her breasts pressing against him. He could feel her arms moving, but didn’t know where, or what. When she stilled, he felt fabric scraping across his bare belly. Bra. She’d taken off her bra. If there ever was a green light, that would be it.

Ben crouched down, bringing her jeans and the scrap of lacy underwear he’d spied earlier to the floor. Jillian placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she stepped out. Ben tossed the clothes towards the door. He ran his hands up her body; knees, thighs, hips, belly, breasts. Leaning forward, he touched the side of her face with his. Not being able to see her reaction, he needed to hear it as his hands explored every inch.

When her breath caught he released her, wrapping an arm around her back and lifting her off her feet. He carried her with him into the shower, back against the tiled wall.

The heat of the water was no match to the fire burning within him. His mind reeled with all he wanted to do, to show her. He stepped to the side, his hand reaching for the soap. Jillian chirped in the darkness, her hands landing against his body. Finding him, she stepped closer.

“I’m going to go yellow if you step away.”

“Afraid of the dark?” Wrapping her in his arms, he pushed her back under the spray. His original plan for the shower was to get her hair wet so it would curl. Best to get that done before he moved on to other things.

“More afraid of you stopping.” A kiss began against his neck, traveling to his mouth. The water from the shower mixed with them. He reached for her hair, feeling the water cascading through it. He pushed her back against the tiled wall, the spray hitting them on their sides. There was no point bothering to hide his erection. Even in the dark she had to feel it pressing insistent against her hip.

Her hand ran like the water down his chest, over his belly, straight to the member throbbing to be inside of her. She gripped him, the water helping her hand slide up and down. She tried to break free of the hold he had on her, jammed against the wall. But he knew what she was trying to do.

“Let me,” she whispered, her tongue twirling around the shell of his ear. He dipped his head, catching her lips in his.

“Let me love you,” he breathed against her mouth. He slid his hands to her hips, rounded her butt, lifting her feet from the floor. She wrapped her hands around his neck, parting her legs as he wrapped them around his back. He kissed her hard, pressing her back until he knew even her head was against the wall. His tongue slid into her mouth. He rocked his hips against her heat, lifting her until he could feel the hard pearl of her clit against the tip of his cock. He ground into her, working her until she began to moan beneath his kiss.

“Ben, please...” she whispered as the kiss broke. “I want...I want...” Her voice grew louder with every word, but she never said what it was she wanted, erupting into a shuddering moan. He could feel her quaking against his shaft.

Lifting her higher, he pressed the swollen head of his cock against her quivering lips. He pushed inside in a deep thrust that made her scream. There wasn’t much room to move, just him completely inside, but still pushing deeper and deeper, enjoying the feel of her heat around him.

Jillian’s breaths grew slower next to his ear. She moved her hands to his shoulders. He could feel her ankles locking together behind him as she began to lift her body off his cock. Ben took a step back, holding her on his own now, so she had more ability to move, to pump herself on him. Tightening his grip on her ass, he spread her cheeks farther, helping to lift her with each stroke.

Their bodies slammed together, the slapping sound rivaling even the driving water of the shower. Her moans increased again. He felt her grip tightening on his shoulders, down his back as her nails started to dig in. Her screams and the gripping of his cock propelled him on. He was getting close, but he wanted more.

He shuffled to the side until his leg found the seat and, bending his legs, he set her down. Her legs wrapped around him, refusing to let go. “Don’t stop, I’m still coming. Don’t stop.”

That was never his intention. He pushed her back onto the wide seat, pulling her hips up to his. He began pumping into her with all he had, all he wanted. Both hands held her hips and he pressed into her. Hard, fast, deep.

Her moans became shrieks, echoing against his grunts. He felt her hand brush against his lower belly, but then retreat. Her moans grew louder. He realized that in the dark she hadn’t been reaching for him, but for her own clit, her own release. A release that was his to give her.

Ben fucked her harder, frantic on his race. Soon he heard her moans garbling with the sound he’d come to recognize as her climax. The clenching of her muscles pulled him over the edge, buckled his knees so he had to lean against the tiled wall above her.

“Wow.” She hummed, running her legs up and down his sides. She walked her fingers up his arm. “Ben, we may have a problem.”

Pulling out, Ben steadied himself against the wall and placed a hand against her leg. His hand instinctively checked for the condom. Still there.

“What kind of problem?”

“There is no way I can walk after that.”

His laughter mixed with hers as he lifted her to her feet. Slamming off the water, he carried her out of the dark bathroom into the early evening sunlight of his bedroom and laid her soaking wet against the pillows.

“My hair will be such a mess.” Rolling her head against the pillows, Jillian stretched her arms over her head and let a loud sigh into the quiet room. He hadn’t said it back, but it didn’t matter. It felt good to get it out there. And his reaction had been promising.

“As long as it curls.” Ben rubbed his fingers along her scalp, his hands trailing down her shoulders, sliding down her slick arms. Jillian shivered, pulling his body around hers, stealing his warmth.

“Are you cold? I’ll get a towel.” Ben made no move to leave.

“No, I like the way this feels.” Jillian rolled towards him, facing him as they lay together on his bed. She ran her leg over his calf, noting how even the scratch of his hair aroused her. Feeling his hardness against her thigh.

Ben pulled her close, his arms enveloping her. Jillian snuggled deep into him, burrowing her head beneath his chin, smelling just him. No soap or cologne, just him. A scent so intoxicating she forgot she was naked until his hand cupped her ass.

“Babe, my body is still humming. Give me a minute.”

“I know, I can hear it.” His laugh vibrated through her body, shaking loose all the insecurities that had crept in. Going back home had caused her anxiety attack. Not him, not them.

Jillian closed her eyes, imagining herself back in the dark bathroom, the air thick with possibility, the sound of the rushing water drowning her thoughts. He knew how to make her relax, how to get her to open the door to her sexual self. A door usually padlocked, bolted, barred.

“I need you to tell me what happened.” The voice was low, a whisper floating over the top of her head.

“Mmm. The lights went out.” She’d never been able to write a decent love scene in any story, but maybe with Ben as inspiration, she’d be better at it. “Blackness swallowed us whole.”

“No, Jilly. Before that.”

“Was there a before? You mean in the car? Cars were rushing by, strangers peering in the tinted windows.”

His hands framed her face, forcing her gaze to his. “After that. Why did you pull away?”

Jillian’s stomach rolled as she tried to free herself from his trap. Suddenly freezing, her body began to quiver.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No! God, no.” She pulled the comforter from the side of the bed, around her body, almost covering. “I just wanted to...and then after my brain just...and I was trying...” The panic began anew, exploding from her chest, making her legs want to run, her fists want to flail, her eyes want to spill in sheer frustration. His refrigerator was empty, what was the likelihood his cupboards held cookies?

“What were you trying to do?”

Sucking in air, Jillian closed her eyes and tried desperately to remember. She hadn’t been trying to do anything really. Pleasure him, please herself, have fun. Nothing deeper. It was analyzing the situation after that caught her off guard.

“I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do something you don’t want to do.” His honesty puffed across her face. She knew he meant it. That’s why she felt safe enough to dare in the first place.

“I wanted to do it.” She squeezed her eyes tighter, forcing out a truth worthy of his. “It was primal. It scares me to think about it. I wasn’t thinking, just feeling. I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“I can tell.” Ben rose from the bed and Jillian buried her head into the damp pillow. He lifted the comforter from his side and pulled it around, cocooning her in the covers. Jillian nestled deeper, keeping warm, hiding from what he wanted from her. Sex was so much easier than intimacy.

She hadn’t been truly intimate with anyone, ever. Neither of the men she’d been with before had dared push her even this far. And she could tell Ben wasn’t done yet. She felt him behind her, sealing her straitjacket. She knew he wouldn’t let her go until he’d laid her bare.

She knew it so deeply, she didn’t bother to struggle against her bonds. But she did wish she’d finished the red velvet cake haunting her from her mother’s kitchen counter. She wanted this feeling buried under something. Sex, food, she’d take whatever she could get, if only he’d let her.

His fingers pulled the sticky strands of hair away from her ear, his fingers threading around her throat. Her breath caught as she struggled not to move, the snap of the velvet ribbon relaxing her body.

“Earn it. Tell me what happened.”

Jillian hugged herself tight beneath the blankets. She wanted to earn his trust, needed it more than the air she was breathing. He deserved it. Sucking the skin of her cheek between her molars, she wondered where to begin. Would it even make sense to him when she could barely make sense of it?

“You don’t have to tell me.” His finger skimmed over the ribbon, her body aware of all he could give, and take away.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and dove right in. “I got scared, I guess. In the car I wasn’t thinking, just feeling. It was a fantasy I’ve had, but a much safer version. I’ve always seen it from under a desk while you were on the phone and someone would come in and be standing right there. This way was so much safer, no one could really find out. The windows were tinted, I could have shut off the cell. So maybe I was thinking. I don’t know.

“And then after, it just hit me, what I did. I didn’t even ask you if it was okay, just took. And you don’t even know me well enough to not think I do that act all the time. And after your offer about money, I could imagine what you were thinking.”

“No you couldn’t. So you did it because it was a fantasy? Something you wanted to act out.”

She bit her tongue, trying to feel anything but the fear. “I did it because I wanted to love you right then. Being a back-seat babe wasn’t enough, and I’m not daring enough to try to be some steering-wheel siren. I just wanted you.”

Ben’s chuckle rumbled at her back. She tried to wiggle away but he held her close. “That’s from your column. What did you call what you did?”

“Blowing his horn.” He had read her work. Paid enough attention to remember it. Jillian smiled at the absurdity. She’d made one of her columns come to life.

“You didn’t research that one before you wrote it? I should turn you in.”

“To whom? That was based on a conversation my girlfriends had at a bachelorette party. All the ways to get off in a car. If I did all the things I wrote about, I’d be dead for sure.”

“We’ll make good on them all. I don’t want you to be a hypocrite. Purely in the name of journalistic integrity.”

“You’re too kind.”

“It’s a sacrifice, I know. But you’re not done. You wanted to be with me. I get that, I’ve done that. And it’s always amazing.” He leaned even closer, breathing words against her ear. “Wanna know a secret?”

Jillian nodded, hoping it would be something she could use to distract him.

“I’m buying a leather couch.”

“How is that a secret?” Jillian tried to turn to look in his eyes and see if he was kidding.

“Because I’ve never been able to come that way. I’m hoping all I need is you and the leather, or else we’ll be spending a lot of time on road trips.” He squeezed her beneath the blankets.

“You’ve never—” Jillian wrestled with her bonds, but couldn’t roll. “I don’t have a romanticized notion of your sexual history. I know you’ve been with other women.”

“I’m not saying I haven’t tried, it’s just never worked.”

“Really?” Jillian stilled her struggle. It was a backwards compliment, but an honest one.

“That’s why I let it start in the first place. I didn’t think anything would come of it.”

Jillian suddenly felt cocky, self-assured, incredibly horny to try it again. Here, in a bedroom. To find out if it was the risk or her that he responded to.

“I worried when you pulled away after. I thought I’d done something, hurt you.”

“You didn’t do anything, Ben. I promise. I just panicked. I realized I couldn’t run from what I was feeling, even if you’d let me. And I don’t do those kind of things. I’ve barely had sex in bed, In a car while you are driving and talking to someone is a little beyond my reach. I don’t usually like sex, let alone initiate it.”

“Who made you feel this way?” Jillian heard the teeth grind in Ben’s jaw.

“No one.” Jillian shook her head. It was crazy to think of other men when Ben had already erased them from her body. “Sex wasn’t what I wanted it to be.”

“Tell me.”

“You want me to tell you about having sex with other men?” Her body stiffened at the idea of him inside another woman, spreading her legs apart—

“Not details, please. Just in general. I don’t understand why you freaked out.”

How could she make him understand something she couldn’t wrap her head around?

“Your first time, what was that like?”

Jillian swallowed hard against the bitter memory. It had been such a waste. “On my twenty-sixth birthday I decided I wasn’t going to wait anymore. I’d been dating someone for a few months, and he was pressuring, so I gave in. But I panicked, and wanted to stop. But he kept going. It hurt so bad I was sure he’d broken something. I even went to the doctor the next day to make sure. He called, sent flowers, said it was supposed to hurt your first time and I was overreacting. So I blocked his phone number and he got the hint.”

Ben’s hand snaked beneath the blankets, rubbing against her skin until her found her hand. Squeezing it tight, he whispered in her ear. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked as he tugged her closer. “I didn’t think it would be like that or I wouldn’t have pushed. I don’t want to make you relive that. I’m so sorry.”

“Ben, it’s fine. It is what it is. I shouldn’t have agreed unless I was sure I was ready. It wouldn’t have hurt so bad if I hadn’t panicked.”

“Jillian, it was not your fault. He’s the one who hurt you.”

“You can’t push a man that far and then expect him to—”

“Yes, you can. There is never a point at which a guy can’t stop. Especially if he’s hurting you.”

Jillian refused to think about it. Had processed it to death for years before she was even willing to try again. If she let her head go there now, she might wind up back in the same hole she’d been in before. So she forged ahead. Glad her sexual history was brief so this whole sharing experience would be over soon.

“Last year I started dating someone, we moved in similar circles, liked to do the same things. Before I knew it we’d been together three months and he was wondering where things were going. And I knew I was missing something.

“He was gentle and methodical and thorough. Patient beyond belief. But in order to even get close, I’d have to pretend it was you. And that wasn’t fair to anyone.”

“That’s because he was fucking your body.”

“Isn’t that what you do?”

“No babe, the best sex takes place in the head first. I need both too.”

She felt him rise from the bed, but she stayed planted, shocked at herself for revealing so much. What would he think of her now, now he knew how stupid she’d been, that she’d fantasized about him when she was with someone else?

Rolling to her side, she stared out the window. He had the most wonderful view of the dunes, the grassy tops blowing in the wind. She closed her eyes and saw the ocean beyond. Maybe he’d let her take Rogue and they could run.

“Do you want to stay here, or go back to the lodge tonight?” She opened one eye to see Ben fully dressed, his hand covering the receiver of the telephone.

“I need to go back.”

“In the room.” He spoke to the phone, walking out of the room as if it weren’t the least bit strange. Jillian sat up and shook the cobwebs from her head. Had she dozed off? Maybe for a minute, but long enough for him to lay her clothes against the foot of the bed? Even her sweater and shoes she’d left in the car in her mad dash to escape.

“Hey, Jillian,” he taunted from the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “Want me to help you with your pants?”