“Where the hell are you,” I yelled as soon as I jabbed the loudspeaker button on the screen of my iPhone. Two weeks had passed since the night I had lost my virginity to Nathan Fucking-Nowhere-to-be-Found Callis, and I was sad to report that I had transformed into what I had sworn never to become: a clingy, demanding, and totally irrational girlfriend who didn’t seem to know what to do with herself the moment her boyfriend was out of sight.

“Sweetheart---”

“Don’t you dare sweet talk me if you’re just going to give me excuses!” With one hand still holding the hot compress to my belly, I angrily paced the length of my living room even as I continued on with my admittedly unwarranted bitch rant. “Come here right this moment, asshole! I don’t care if you’ve promised to meet with the effing Queen of England! I want you here, now, naked, and you’re going to make me forget about my stupid PMS by masturbating in front of me, and afterwards you’re going to give me a bath and---”

“Alright, sweetheart.” As always, the former model’s lovely Greek-accented voice was annoyingly mild. And though I’d rather swallow a fistful of nails than admit it – especially now when even I knew I was being unreasonably horrible – I did find it sexier that he could always stay calm no matter how crazy I got.

“You’ve made yourself quite clear---” A pause. “To me, my godfather, and the rest of his board.”

My jaw dropped.

What…did…he…just…say?

A moment later, I heard his godfather drawl in a similarly amused tone, “It’s nice to hear from you again, Alyx.”

Fuck. Me.

Somebody please fuck me out of the shithole I had just gotten myself into!

“Hello, Uncle Geoff.” My voice came out a squeak, and I quickly cleared my throat. “Those things I said weren’t really true.” I silently banged my head against the concrete wall. “They’re actually lines from this book I’m reviewing---” I silently banged my head again. “And I thought I’d, you know, try them on Nathan to see if they’d sound realistic?” I banged my head one more time.

God, Alyx Marshall, why does Nathan always come out with the upper hand?

“Oh, it did,” the older man murmured in the same mild tone as Nathan’s. This one, however, had her cringing. “You think so, too, don’t you, Nathan?”

“Very realistic,” his damn godson agreed.

“Gentlemen?”

As the members of Geoffrey McAllister’s board hastened to agree with their CEO, Alyx rapped her head on the wall like a jackhammer. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.

“Perhaps Alyx needs more of your help with her review, son,” she heard Geoffrey say. “We can handle it from here. See you at tomorrow night’s gala.”

Alyx heard Nathan murmur something too low for her to decipher. Several moments later, Nathan came back on the phone. “I’ll be with you in twenty minutes, sweetheart.” This time, he was no longer on loudspeaker, his voice coming to her more clearly.

“Don’t bother.” But the words came out a half-snarl, half-wail.

“Okay, okay.” Nathan’s tone was humorous. “I’ll do my best to get there sooner, even if it means getting a speeding ticket.”

“Nathan!” But the line already went dead, and I stared at my iPhone in a mixture of consternation and giddiness.

He was coming.

Despite me being such a bitch to him, he was coming---

But then my period chose that moment to act up, and the pleasure dimmed as the pain in my belly took over. I trudged back to bed, huddled under the covers, and squeezed my eyes shut.

Pain, pain, go away.

Come again another day.

I said the words over and over, just like a kid counting sheep in hopes of falling asleep, and the world started to fade but the pain continued to linger. Enough time must have passed – period pains always had me feeling delirious – because the next thing I knew, he was already there.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Nathan’s lips brushed against mine, and my eyes slowly flickered open as I felt him pull away. For one moment, I found myself dazzled, not by his good looks, which were admittedly blinding, but by the tenderness gleaming in his gray eyes.

It wasn’t right, I thought half in despair, half in bliss. Why did he never stop looking at me like that? No matter what I said or did, no matter how crazy and bitchy I was to him – why could he still look at me like I was precious?

Didn’t he know it would be harder to keep myself from loving him more when he was this…lovable?

He ran his knuckles over my cheek, and I was torn between biting his hand off and licking it like a damn puppy.

“Sorry I made you wait too long,” Nathan said softly.

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, uncomfortable with his apology because he really didn’t owe me one, and we both knew that.

“Still need that bath?”

“No.” I burrowed deeper into the covers.

“Then…the private show perhaps?”

I peeked out of the covers with a gasp. “You’d really do that?”

“If it’s what you want,” he answered simply.

I nodded vehemently. “I want.”

He chuckled.

“I really want.” And because I was shameless with things I wanted, I added feelingly, “Please.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

As he pulled away and slid back to his feet in one graceful movement, I groped for my phone, connected it to the Bluetooth speaker, and played Miguel’s cover of Crazy in Love for the 50 Shades Darker film.

In the act of reaching for his belt, Nathan threw his head back with a laugh, and my heart somersaulted behind my chest. That was too, too sexy, and I felt like I’d have given half of my life that moment if I could just wish away my period.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, and will you get on with it?” I worked hard to sound reprimanding even as I fought against the urge to smile. “You still have too much clothes---” My voice trailed off as he pulled his shirt from the back before whipping it over his head. A second later, and his gloriously naked and beautifully muscled chest were on full display.

His eyes locked with mine, and my throat dried.

Ooooooh…Gooooood.

His fingers went back to his belt, and I swallowed hard as it fell to the floor. He worked on his jeans next, then his briefs, and just like that---

He was naked.

He was completely naked, and I was completely aroused.

All thoughts of pain – every sensation that had nothing to do with the raw, earthy lust that had me in its claws – disappeared. I never thought this was possible. Yes, I had read about it in books, seen it portrayed in films, but I really thought they were faking it.

How could you feel desire for a man while you were in the throes of menstrual torture?

But apparently, it was possible.

Or maybe it was only possible because it was Nathan Callis---

A gasp escaped me when he started stroking his cock.

“Do you see how hard it is?” Nathan’s gaze captured me once more. “It’s all because of you, sweetheart.” The low, rough rasp of his voice made me swallow harder, the sound of it like an invisible, heated brand on my skin.

“All because of you…” And his fingers started to move faster.

I stared, I ached, I burned.

It lasted too long, lasted too short, I couldn’t quite make up my mind. All I knew was that if I could patent those four minutes of Nathan Callis jerking himself off, I’d be the richest woman in the world because I had found a permanent cure for dysmenorrhea.

When it was over, he walked towards me, showing not a bit of self-consciousness about the fact that he was naked and I was not, and that his cock still jutted proudly like a fucking flag carried by a victorious army sergeant.

Bending down, he took my mouth wordlessly in a sweet, deep kiss. “Did it help, sweetheart?”

I grunted.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

By the time he joined me in bed, he had showered and changed into sweat pants. Since I had steadfastly refused his invitation to move in with him, Nathan had taken to leaving stuff in my apartment.

“Still in pain?” he asked as he pulled me closer from behind, our bodies spooning as he slipped an arm under my head while another went around my waist. When I shook my head, he kissed my hair, murmuring, “I’m glad. I hate seeing you in pain.”

I did my best to fall asleep, but I couldn’t.

“Nathan?” My whisper interrupted the low humming from the air conditioning.

“Mm…”

“I’m growing on you, aren’t I?” They weren’t what I meant to ask at all, but the moment the words came out, I realized it was – even if my mind shied away from it – what my heart needed to ask.

“You’re all I think about these days.”

That was nice. That was really nice, but it still wasn’t what I needed to hear.

I tried again, saying, “Let me rephrase.” I felt his hard body rock against me in what I knew was mirth but ignored it, asking baldly, “How much of your heart do I own right now?”

“Ah.”

What the hell did that mean?

Was that Greek?

Was it model speak for I love you?

“About…ten percent I suppose?”

Ouch. “Asshole.” I elbowed him hard, and he grunted, but when I tried struggling away from him, he only pulled me back with another chuckle.

His arms tightened around me. “Stay.”

I didn’t heed him, still trying my best to get out of his arms, and my eyes started to tear up because all these movements were just making the pain come back.

“I want you to let go,” I gritted out. “Okay?” My voice caught.

He stilled.

And then he was rolling me to my back, and I squeezed my eyes shut the moment I realized I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from crying.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said hoarsely.

I didn’t answer.

“I’m an ass.”

Yes, you were, I thought painfully. You are. But it doesn’t change a thing.

“Does it matter if you own my heart?”

I didn’t answer. He was no dummy. He already knew the answer to that.

“Can’t it be enough that I own yours---”

Ah.

“And I swear on my life I’ll never do anything to break it?”