It's two in the morning when I wake. I'm still in Nick's bed with his arms around me.

Without the magic of the muscle relaxants, my back is stiff. It's tolerable.

Nick stirs. He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me closer.

Warmth spreads through my body, tensing and relaxing me at once

I take a deep breath. I'm in Nick's bed, in his arms. This is dangerous territory.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

Overwhelmed. "A little tense."

"I can run a bath." He drags his hand down my stomach. "Or I can release some of that tension."

I play dumb. "What do you mean?"

He shifts, bringing his other hand above my head. "You can't pull off coy."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Nick slides his hand over my thigh and just under the hem of my dress. His fingertips slide between my legs to stroke my clit. "God dammit, Lizzy. You're going to kill me."

"I think you have that backwards."

His fingers skim my sex. "Your body is so responsive."

"Only because it's you."

He shifts, pressing his crotch against my ass so I can feel his erection. "I'm not going to tie you up tonight."

I fight a frown. How is it possible I'm already craving releasing control?

"What feels better—arms above your head or at your sides?"

That sounds a lot better. I pull them over my head, shifting until I'm comfortable. It stretches my chest muscles, but it's in a pleasant way. "This."

"Tell me if your back hurts."

"Not if it means you'll stop."

"I'll make sure you finish." He pulls his hand away from my sex. "Do you want to come?"

"Yes."

"Then promise you'll tell me if your back hurts."

"I promise."

With one hand, Nick holds my wrists against the pillow. The other strokes my inner thighs. Up, up, up.

His touch is light as he drags his fingertips over my sex. It feels like he's teasing for minutes. I stop breathing, and all my muscles clench. I need his hands on me.

I arch my back to break up the tension in my muscles. It's enough to relax them. Nick's touch is so light. It's driving me out of my mind.

I close my eyes, soaking in the sensation. I'm not tied up, but I'm still at his mercy.

He rubs my clit. The shock of the pressure sends pangs to my sex. I don't think. I don't resist. I breathe, and I feel.

My orgasm builds quickly. I arch my body into his, pressing my ass against his cock. His boxers are in the way, but they do little to contain him.

I want that hardness against me, inside me, mine.

Not yet.

I focus on the bliss building inside me. A few more strokes, and I'm about to go into freefall. I climb higher and higher.

Then I'm soaring.

"Nick," I moan. "God, Nick."

Pleasure rushes through me. It starts at my core and works its way up my stomach and down my legs. The stiffness in my back and neck relaxes. My legs and arms are jelly, his to move or not.

He presses his lips to my neck, holding me close for a moment. Then he shifts, pulling something from the dresser drawer. A condom.

Lust returns to my body with great force. I'm greedy, I know, but I can't help it. He's fucking irresistible.

"Nick." I reach back and run my hands over his well-defined stomach. "I want to touch you."

"Not tonight."

"Soon?"

"Yes. I promise." He unwraps the condom and slides it on. "Put your hands back over your head."

His cock strains against my sex. The tease is horrible and wonderful at the same time. I'm aching for him inside me. I groan, my arms shaking.

His fingers dig into my hips. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you inside me. So deep inside me I can't breathe."

"Close your eyes."

I do.

He holds my body against his. "I want you to feel this. Every second. No rushing to get to the next part."

Nick slides inside me slowly. It's a hint then he pulls out.

He does it again.

Again.

He teases me until I'm panting so hard I forget to breathe.

Again.

I resist my impulse to rock my hips into him. Every second is agony and ecstasy at the same time.

I focus on the ecstasy, the pleasure spreading through my thighs, the tension collecting in my core.

Again.

My sex clenches. I bite my lip, shifting my arms to keep my hips steady. Almost. Almost.

There. He shifts inside me. All the way. No more teasing. My body relaxes. I let out a low sigh.

Nick's groan reverberates against my neck. He keeps his movements slow as he thrusts into me. Every impulse begs me to push him deeper.

Instead, I melt into him.

The ache inside me builds slowly. Every time he thrusts into me, every time he groans, I'm closer. I can feel his pleasure in the shaking of his chest, the way his fingers dig into my skin. I turn my head to press my neck against his mouth. He sucks hard.

My impatience melts away. The buildup is too good to rush. I never want it to end. Everything in my world is beautiful—the string lights on the walls, the soft purple sheets, the feeling of his hands on my skin.

It can't be much more than a few minutes, but it's so intense it feels like hours.

His lips stay on my skin.

His motions stay controlled. All the pressure in my sex builds until I'm at the edge again.

This time, I'm not rushing into free fall. I'm soaking in every second of bliss.

His next thrust sends me over the edge. My eyelids squeeze together. My hips shake of their own accord, desperate to feel him a little deeper.

He groans like he's just as desperate.

This orgasm is more intense.

"Nick." My breath is ragged as I come down. My thoughts are incoherent.

"Come here." He shifts our positions so he's on top of me. His hand stays around my wrists as he thrusts into me.

Faster. Harder. Deeper.

My sex pulses from the wealth of sensation.

His groans fill me with a different kind of need. It's as good as my orgasm. Better even.

I soak in every bit of his pleasure as he comes. His lips part, and they go to my neck. His kiss is soft. Tender.

"Nick." I arch my hips to feel the pulsing of his orgasm.

One last thrust and he's finished. He collapses next to me. His lips go to my forehead.

We haven't kissed. Morning breath. Well, middle of the night breath.

Nick discards the condom and returns to the bed. He plops next to me and runs his fingertips along the neckline of my dress. "Join me in the shower."

My nod fails to express my enthusiasm. I take his hand and follow him into the bathroom. I didn't notice the room last time I was here. It's huge with a glass shower the size of my apartment.

"How many people fit in here?" I pull my dress over my head and leave it on the floor.

Nick looks at the mess with faux outrage. "I've only tried myself."

"Really?"

"I don't bring women home."

"Where do you bring them?"

"I used to keep a place."

"You kept an apartment just for sex?"

He nods. His fingers skim my cheek. "I didn't want to invite anyone into my home."

"But you invited me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I want you here."

I clear my throat, willing my thoughts to stay planted in the lust section of my brain. "Do you have a toothbrush? I want to kiss you but I'm afraid of the garlic in the shrimp scampi."

His hand on my lower back, he leads me to a marble sink. There's an extra toothbrush, still in its package, on the counter. It's purple.

Get a grip, girl. It's a toothbrush, not a declaration of undying love.

Nick watches as I pull off the packaging.

I hand him the paper so as not to further mess up his perfect bathroom.

He tosses it into some equally clean, modern trashcan then his attention is back on me.

"Don't watch me. It's weird." I squeeze toothpaste.

"We just had sex."

"Brushing your teeth is a lot more intimate than sex." I motion for him to turn around.

He doesn't. Instead, he pulls out his toothbrush.

I stare at him, waiting for him to avert his gaze.

It's not going to happen.

Fine. I focus on the mirror as I brush my teeth. After a few moments, my attention shifts to his reflection. I've never watched a man brush his teeth before. It's so domestic.

For a split second, I imagine a life with someone—getting ready for bed, brushing our teeth, falling asleep in each other's arms.

The someone shifts into focus. He's tall with black hair and deep brown eyes. He's unmistakably Nick.

I'm uneasy when I'm finished. I force the feeling away by rising to my tiptoes to kiss Nick. His tongue is aggressive, like he's been waiting as desperately as I have.

We stand there for minutes, his hands on my lower back, mine around his neck, making out like desperate teenagers.

When the kiss breaks, he leads me into the shower. There are buttons on the wall. One heats the floor. Another turns on the water. Yet another turns on the water—there are three faucets in here.

Of all the things to spend money on, why would anyone pick a shower?

Nick brings his body behind mine. The skin-to-skin contact makes me sizzle. His body feels damn good against mine.

He drags his fingertips between my breasts, all the way to my belly button.

"I'm not going to stop you from going again, but if you do, I'll need a note to my boss about why I'm coming in to work late." I place my hand under the nearest showerhead. The water is tolerably hot.

"You should take the day off. See a doctor for your back."

"It feels okay now. Something melted away the tension." I step under the shower to wet my hair. It occurs to me that my makeup isn't waterproof.

Fuck it. I throw my head back and rub my face.

Nick runs his thumb against the top of my cheeks like he's wiping off my liner. It's strangely intimate.

He reaches for the shower caddy in the corner and pumps shampoo into his hands. "Turn around."

I do.

He runs his hands through my hair, dispensing the shampoo. His touch is soft and delicate. I can't believe I mocked Kat for liking this. It's amazing.

A groan escapes my lips as he massages my scalp. Water runs over my front. I'm too hot to think anything but yes.

When he's done, Nick turns me and tilts me under the water. His hand slides around the back of my neck, supporting my head as he rinses my hair.

He does the same with conditioner. I'm so hot I want to scream.

His eyes are wide, his expression attentive.

Nick leans close enough to whisper. "The other shower head is detachable."

The thought makes me groan.

"Next time." He rubs me down with soap and rinses me.

Once I'm deemed clean, I shampoo and condition his hair.

He's so tall that I can't reach him on my tiptoes. He brings his chin to his chest so I can run my hands through his messy brown hair. I'm of no help with rinsing off his hair, but I certainly enjoy watching the muscles of his chest contract and relax as he throws his neck back. We do the same with conditioner, then I take my sweet, sweet time soaping him down.

It's my first chance to really explore his body. I run my fingers over the lines of his back and around the contours of his chest. His ass and thighs are just as muscular and they feel just as good against my hands.

He groans as I drag my hand up his thigh, but I don't stray past his quads. Not tonight. But soon.

It's like I can feel it in my bones.

I trust Nick to give me what I want.

But at 3 AM, I'm not about to contemplate just how much I trust him. Or just how much I want him.