I step out of the cab and into the drizzling rain, trying not to think about the last time I was caught in a rainstorm. I still can hardly believe that night with Leo was only four days ago—it seems like almost a lifetime ago now.

My hair is wet before I even close the door of the taxi. I stand on the sidewalk and look at my house for a moment. I haven’t seen it in a year, but it looks the same—I have to admit I’m surprised the place hasn’t been destroyed. It’s dark, but I can see someone has mowed the lawn, at least.

The porch light is on—along with a string of Christmas lights still hanging around the front window, even though it’s almost spring. The light in my bedroom is also on by the looks of it.

I place my hands on my hips and shake my head to myself. I asked Owen to do one thing… The guy who is housesitting had agreed to stay only in Owen’s room while he lived here—I had told him before I left that my room was off limits, but he clearly didn’t listen. He is one of Owen’s friends, after all, and God only knows if he was even sober when I told him the rules.

I start to walk up to the door—I’m not looking forward to having to tell this guy he needs to leave—and I’m pretty pissed Owen didn’t make the call to let him know I was on my way home. I guess I don’t have to make him leave tonight, though—as long as he’s not in my room and I can take a much-needed shower, he can stay a few more days if he needs to. But I’m going to need some time alone to figure out where to go from here.

I’ve been spending too much time thinking about what happened before I left Rio de Campo. Too much time thinking about Leo. And I need to get that stuff out of my head—to forget any of it ever happened. No one would ever believe it, anyway, and I still think there’s a possibility Owen might have slipped me something—maybe I hallucinated the entire thing.

I guess I’ll never know for sure. It’s not like Leo gave me his phone number, and there’s no way I would ever be able to find him, assuming I even wanted to. It’s not like I can call up his castle and ask if he’s home, though thinking about that possibility makes me smile a little.

Whatever. It was all a stupid, little girl fantasy. I’ve spent the past four days trying not to think about how I fucked the whole thing up. It’s not like I’ve ever done what Owen suggested to me in the hostel—kept some list of celebrities I’d drop my panties for at a moment’s notice—but if I ever had, I have no doubt Leo would have been on it, even before I met him.

From now on, I’m going to have to avoid those celebrity tabloids I’ve always liked reading. I’m not sure I can handle seeing who he’s dating now. I hate to admit seeing a photograph of him with another woman would make me jealous—but it definitely fucking would.

I close my eyes and let the rain wash over me for a second. I almost wish it would wash away the memory of ever having met Leo. I could never have imagined being away from him would physically hurt this much—my chest is still aching thinking about him. And I realize it’s idiotic—I only knew him for a handful of days, and there’s no way I should be heartbroken over a guy I barely knew. But this wrenching in my chest is all too familiar, and I know it’s going to take me some time to get over it. Hopefully not a year this time. And hopefully not another trip to the other end of the world.

I walk up to the door and fish my house key out of my wallet. I’m not sure what I was expecting to happen when I entered, but it wasn’t this.

The house is clean—and it doesn’t smell like the gross stench that always seems to follow Owen around. I must have underestimated my house sitter. The television is on in the living room, and I decide to walk over to thank him for taking such good care of my house. As soon as I turn to look in, my breath catches in my chest and I stand there frozen.

Leo is sitting on a couch—not my couch—watching TV. He looks up at me and smiles. He motions to the television. “Could you explain this game to me? I’ve never understood American football. Or why they call it football when it so clearly is not played with the foot most of the time—a man just threw the ball with his hands for Christ’s sake. Also, what is the significance of Monday night?”

My mouth falls open and I’m having trouble breathing. I have to blink a few times to be sure I’m not in the middle of some delusion. “I…” I have to shake my head again to be sure he’s sitting here. “It’s sort of like soccer—what you call football. The two teams are trying to defend their goals—but they call them end zones in American football. And the players try to beat the shit out of each other in the meantime.”

He nods and turns his gaze back to the television. “And Monday night?”

I shrug. “Another day to make money from people watching.”

“Ah, I see now. American capitalism.” He rubs his chin before turning his gaze back to mine. “And do your loyalties lie with Detroit or with Philadelphia?”

I smile. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.”

“I’ve never been to either city, so I seem to have no preference.” He glances at the TV before looking at me again and smiling.

“Same. And I’m pretty sure football isn’t in season right now, so you’re probably watching a rerun, anyway.” I still can’t seem to move—I still can’t believe this is real. I’ve spent the past four days trying to convince myself I only imagined meeting Leo in the first place. And he’s sitting here. Prince Leopold. In my living room.

We stare at each other in silence. I’m still not sure what it is I’m feeling other than complete and total shock. My gaze drops to the sofa. “That isn’t my couch.”

He looks at the spot where I’m staring and runs a hand over what looks like leather. “It would seem the sofa that was here underwent an unfortunate accident at the hands of your house sitter. When I arrived, it was being held up on one side by a concrete block—”

“No, that’s pretty much how I left it.”

His brows knit together and he looks up at me. “You’re a physician. Why would you have furniture in that condition?”

“I… I’m only a year out of residency.” My brow furrows as I realize how much time has passed since I last saw my living room. “Two years now, I guess. People think doctors make all this money, but you really don’t unless you’re a cardiologist or something. And no one makes any income in residency, really—all your money goes to pay your student loan bills.” I shake my head. “Why am I talking about this with you? Why are you replacing my furniture? Why are you here?”

“All valid questions. As to the first, you’re speaking with me about your furniture because I mentioned the unfortunate state of your primary seating area. The second question is reasonably easy, as well. I replaced your sofa because it needed replacing. The third question is a bit more difficult to answer.”

“Try.”

He nods. “Why don’t you sit down?”

I shake my head. “I need a shower. A trip that should have taken sixteen hours took almost four days because of the weather, and I haven’t been able to shower. I had to wash in the airport bathroom…” My breaths are coming too fast and I have to shake my head again. “Why are you here? In my house? How did you even get in here?”

“Ah. Yes, your brother asked me to deliver a message to your house guest, as I mentioned to him before I left Rio de Campo that I was going to be in this area. It would seem Owen’s phone was not functioning.”

I shake my head again in disbelief. “So you broke into my house?”

“Not at all. I was invited by your brother to stay. With certain conditions, of course.”

I close my eyes for a moment and shake my head to myself. This is not really happening. It can’t be. I’ve barely slept in the past four days—I must be having some hallucination due to sleep deprivation.

“I assure you, Elle, there is nothing strange about my stay here these past three days.”

“You’ve been here three days?” I take a step back and lean against the wall.

He turns his gaze back to the television. “I believe it was fortunate I arrived when I did. I can only imagine what might have happened to the poor fellow who had been staying here if you had arrived at your home before I did.”

My knees are about to buckle underneath me, and I’m thinking about sinking to the floor before I collapse. “Because—?”

He doesn’t even let me get another word in. His gaze snaps to mine and he smiles. “Because I feared for the poor chap’s life.” He grins. “Because of the condition in which I found your home when I arrived.”

“No, I…I get that.” I shake my head again, sure if I turn it hard enough, this hallucination I’m having is going to evaporate into thin air. “So where is he now? Brody—Owen’s friend?”

“Ah, yes, that was his name. A sort of unfortunate and stereotypical surfer’s name, if I may be so bold as to say so. Bestowing that name upon a poor child almost relegates him—”

I interrupt with another shake of my head. “Where is he?”

He smiles. “The chap and I came to an agreement. He is standing in for me for the time being.”

“Standing. In.” My voice is flat with disbelief. I really can’t believe this is real—that this is happening at all. My legs begin to buckle and I slowly slide down to the ground. I end up with my knees at my chest and I lean my head back against the wall.

Leo doesn’t seem to register the state of shock I’m finding myself in, and he continues. “Not that he looks anything like me, of course. But my jet arriving in the area would never go unnoticed by the media. He’s staying in a room registered under my name at a luxury hotel in Beverly Hills.”

“The one with the private entrances, so the paparazzi don’t take your picture—?”

He interrupts. “I would hardly need a stand-in if I were staying there, now would I?” He pauses for a moment and meets my gaze. “It gives us a bit of time, Elle. Before we have to face that part of my life.”

I can only nod. Until that word sinks into my head. “We?”

He shrugs and stands, turning off the football game. He crosses the room and extends his hands to me.

I take them and he pulls me up before dropping my hands to slide his arms around my waist. He dips his head to my ear. “Don’t run away from me again.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but I can hear the serious tone.

My heart does a weird fluttery thing before it starts to pound in my chest. I pull my head back to look at him. “I didn’t ask you to come after me.”

He lifts a brow. “Didn’t you?”

* * *

Why the hell is he doing this?

I definitely didn’t want him coming after me—I never expected it, either. I only wanted to come home and go back to my normal life, putting the memories of what happened in Rio de Campo out of my head. Seeing Leo again was about the last thing I expected when I came home.

“No. I never asked you to come after me. I never would.” I try to twist out of his arms, but his grasp tightens around me. “I’m not worth the effort, Leo.” If he knew the reasons why my statement is true, he never would have come all this way. If he somehow manages to tolerate me after he finds out what I’m really like, there’s no way he’s going to be able to give me anything more than one of his short-term affairs. I would rather be done with men forever than to have one of them use me ever again. “I’m really not worth it.”

“I don’t believe that to be the case.”

“You’re wrong.” I try to wrench myself away again, but he pulls me toward him, pressing his body against mine.

He dips his head to my ear again. “That’s insulting.”

I tilt my head back to look into his eyes. “How is that insulting?”

His gaze narrows only slightly. “I believe you are worth every effort, Elle. For you to tell me that because I believe you are worthwhile, my values are somehow flawed is an insult to me.”

My heart thrashes in my chest for a moment at his words, and I almost wonder if maybe there could be more…but then I remember. There can’t be. There won’t be. “You don’t know me.”

He smiles. “As you continue to tell me. But I believe I know enough about you to know that I want to know more. Much more.”

I drop my arms and pull away from him. “There are millions of girls out there who would sleep with you in a second if you even looked at them. Probably a hundred thousand or so within a twenty-mile radius from where we’re standing.”

He takes my hands into his again. “But not you.”

“Was that a question?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“You flew seven thousand miles to sleep with me? Because I held you to your word that night and wouldn’t have sex with you?”

His shoulders lift in a small shrug, but his gaze never leaves mine. He’s almost challenging me to be the first to look away.

I shake my head and pull my hands from his, placing them on my hips. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I’m telling you—and this is not meant to be insulting to you in any way—I am not worth it. I’m a mess, Leo.”

“You merely need a shower. Something I’m more than happy to assist with if you’d allow it.”

My eyes widen with my exasperation. “I need so much more than a shower. You have no idea who I am. What I am. The things I’ve done—”

Something in his expression softens, and he pulls my hands into his again. “You graduated first in your class from your university studies and were named valedictorian. You were two years younger than the rest of your classmates—”

“I did two years of college while I was in high school.”

He lifts a brow. “You were accepted at both Columbia and Harvard medical schools, but chose to remain in California.”

“Because my mom was sick—”

“You were first in your medical school class until midway through your second year of medical studies.”

“And then I turned into a whore.” I pull my hands away from his again and cross my arms over my chest. My gaze narrows to glare at him. “How do you know all this? And why do you care?”

“It’s not that difficult to obtain background information, Elle. Most of that information was in the personnel file I had with me the entire time I was in Rio de Campo. I just had neglected to read it.”

I lift a brow. “But that doesn’t answer the second part of my question.”

“I’m not sure I have an answer to the second part. I don’t know why. I just find that I do…care.”

My gaze narrows again. “That must be very difficult for you, Your Highness.”

“Indeed, I’m finding I’m in uncharted territory.”

“Well, care about this, Your Majesty—”

“Only my father is called that—”

“After our mom died when I was in my second year of medical school and Owen completely fell apart, I almost flunked out. I had to get eighty percent in advanced physiology to pass and I only had sixty percent with less than two weeks left in the semester. My professor offered to give me one percent in extra credit for every blowjob I gave him. After the first time I…serviced him, he offered me two percent for every time I’d let him fuck me. I’ll let you do the math on how I managed to get an eighty-one percent in that class. I repeated the class that summer, but only so I could sleep at night.”

He frowns and his brows knit together. But he looks sad—not as shocked as I expected. “Elle—”

My eyes narrow to almost-slits. “Care about that, Your Highness. Or maybe you’d prefer to hear about my boss? The guy who told me he was separated from his wife and hadn’t had sex in seven years? Perhaps you’d like to hear how he told me I was the best thing that had ever happened to him? Maybe you’d like to hear about how five months after we started seeing each other, his wife—who he definitely was not separated from—found out about his affair with me. Maybe you want to hear how she came into the hospital and almost killed me, which resulted in me being unceremoniously fired from my job. Perhaps that is enough to get you to stop caring…”

I close my eyes for a second. I hate how my mouth seems to have a mind of its own sometimes, and I especially hate how it has decided to unload now, of all times. I blink, trying to push away the tears I can feel starting to sting in my eyes.

“Are you quite done?”

I nod and look up at him. “Yes, Leo. I’m quite done. Like I’ve been trying to tell you, I’m not worth the effort. I’m a complete and total mess. I’m the same as every other slutty girl out there. Worse, actually—”

He winces. “And if I wanted a slutty girl, I would be out at one of the many Los Angeles clubs picking one up right now.”

His jaw tightens and I can’t quite read what’s flashing through his eyes. His gaze narrows and his hands ball into fists. “What happened to you isn’t right. If I were to ever find either of those men…”

His voice trails off and we stare at each other in silence.

He finally lets out a long breath. “But I, too, have done many things I’m not proud of, Elle. Many.”

My brow furrows. “And how am I supposed to respond to that? That this must be true love because we’re both ashamed of our pasts? That because you were dumb enough to chase me over seven-fucking-thousand miles, I should…what? Allow you in my bed? So that I can add another page to my diary about how I let another man use me? Or maybe you think I should be flattered that because you’re a celebrity, and you’re paying attention to me—”

He pulls me into his arms so fast and has his lips pressed against mine so quickly that I have no choice but to stop talking.

His hand slides up my back and fists into my hair and he pulls my head back, forcing my gaze to meet his as he breaks the kiss. “I will decide for myself what is worthwhile. Not you, nor my brother, nor my father will be deciding that for me. Do you understand?”

I can only bob my head the slightest bit—his fingers are still knotted in my hair. My heart is thrashing in my ears and almost beating itself through my chest. My breath catches in my throat—I don’t think I could speak again even if I wanted to.

“Good. And while I have your attention, I’ll ask you to stop trying to push me away.”

“I—”

“You’ve run from me twice. And now you’re trying to shock me into running from you. It isn’t going to work, Elle. You may as well face that now—you can push as hard as you like, but I’m not going anywhere.”

I only open my mouth to ask my next question, and it’s like he can read my mind. I don’t even get a syllable out.

“And don’t ask me why. I don’t know that I have the answer to that question.”

Then he dips his head and kisses me again.

He pulls me tightly against him and kisses me as hard as I’ve ever been kissed. My lips part and his tongue glides along my lower lip for a moment before he pulls away again.

He releases me, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m glad we have this settled. I believe you will find the housekeepers I brought in did an adequate job of cleaning your washroom. Your brother mentioned you left your things in your bedroom, which you may be pleased to know appears to have been left untouched during your absence.”

“You didn’t…?” My breath seems to be permanently caught in my chest, and it’s difficult to speak. It’s not that I’d mind if Leo had gone into my bedroom—I guess I assumed he had.

“No, I did not sleep in your bedroom. I would never do that uninvited, Elle. Your brother mentioned I was welcome to stay in his room. And I hope you understand that was the first room I had the housekeepers clean. It seemed to be in the most need…”

“I can imagine.”

He nods and motions toward the hallway. His hand brushes my elbow, sending a new bolt of electricity up my arm. I look at where he’s touching me before lifting my gaze to his eyes.

He raises a brow—he definitely felt it, too. He motions toward the bathroom door. “I’ll let you shower and we can speak more about this when you’re done if you’d like.” He reaches inside the door and flips on the light. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

I only have to glance inside to see what he’s done and my mouth falls open. “My bathroom has never been this clean. You didn’t have to do this, Leo. Really—I could have cleaned it myself—”

“Consider it a belated birthday gift.”

I turn to meet his gaze once more, lifting a brow.

“Upon my closer examination of the personnel records, I also discovered my oversight of that issue. You should have told me the day we met was your birthday, Elle.”

“Why?” My brow furrows. “What difference would it have made? It’s just another day.”

“Perhaps.” His face is expressionless, and I can’t read what is going on behind his eyes. His hands have balled into fists again—almost as though he’s trying to cover up his frustration.

I’ve said too much to him—typical for me. He’s probably having second thoughts about coming here—especially now that I’ve revealed my dirty secrets. If my mouth didn’t overload itself as much as it does, I’m sure I wouldn’t find myself in trouble as often as I do. If I could learn to shut the fuck up once in awhile, I would probably have a very different life.

I walk into the bathroom before turning around. “I’m gross. I mean—I would have been home two days ago if I hadn’t been stuck in Miami because of the hurricane. Hurricanes aren’t even supposed to happen this late in the year…”

“I know.” He doesn’t even flinch.

“You were stalking me, weren’t you? Keeping tabs—”

His lips curl into the smallest of smiles. “I won’t deny I requested frequent updates on your whereabouts, Elle. There was little I could do, though. I would have been happy to send my jet for you, but there was no way for any aircraft to get in or out of that airport. You were safe where you were, and the airline was happy to—”

I nod, suddenly understanding what happened. “And that was how I happened to be upgraded to first class on the flight home.”

“Again, consider it a belated birthday gift if you must.”

“I can take care of myself, Leo.”

“Clearly.” He stares at me. “And you’ve done a fine job of it, quite honestly. You know, Elle, there’s nothing wrong with allowing someone to assist you on occasion. Whether you require it or not. Allowing someone to help you helps them, too. I’m certain that as a physician, you know that—how helping someone makes you feel better about yourself.”

My heart skips a few beats and does the weird fluttering thing it’s been doing since I met him. I still don’t know what it is—I don’t know that I’ve ever felt it before. The doctor in me thinks it might be some sort of arrhythmia, but the woman in me is pretty sure it’s something else.

It’s hard to breathe again, especially with the way he’s looking at me—staring at me like he can see right into my soul. I don’t know how he can do this—how he seems to understand everything going on inside my head without really knowing anything about me at all. It seems really unfair he has this advantage—this ability to see right through me.

I barely have a second to think about what he’s said before he has me in his arms again. His lips press against mine with a different sort of hunger this time, leaving me breathless with new ripples of heat coiling through me.

His hands slide up my back, pulling my shirt up with them. He breaks our kiss for only a moment to lift my shirt over my head. He tosses it aside and presses his lips to mine again, his tongue insistent on the parting of my own. His arms snake around my waist, one hand sliding up the length of my spine.

My hands reach up to his collar and I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers trembling with some strange urgency I don’t remember having felt before. I’m only able to unfasten a couple before he drops his hands from my back, grasping the sides of his shirt and lifting it over his head. He pulls away for the briefest moment to toss it aside before his lips return to mine.

It’s never been like this. Not even with the few men I’ve thought I loved. There was never this energy—this hunger. I’ve never felt so…possessed. In every sense of the word.

His hand slides up my back again and I shudder beneath the electricity of his touch. His hand tangles into my hair and he tips my head back, breaking our kiss.

He pulls back ever so slightly and looks into my eyes. His breath is ragged and his voice is uneven. “Elle…”

“Yes.” My voice is almost as breathless as his. I nod and my fingers curl into his chest. “Yes.”

“If this isn’t what you want—”

“I said yes, Leo.” My gaze drops to where I’m touching him and I wonder for a moment if his skin is as sensitive to my touch as mine is to his. I look back up into his eyes. “This is absolutely what I want.”

His eyes darken. “Because I won’t be able to stop—”

“That’s good because I won’t want you to stop.”

My words seem to ignite a new fire inside him and his lips meet mine with a new passion. His hand fists into my hair while his free hand finds the button of my shorts. He unfastens it with a flick of his wrist and they fall to the floor.

He releases my hair long enough to untie the back of the bikini top I’ve been wearing under my t-shirt, but he leaves the neck tied.

He pulls away from me, reaching to start the shower before he turns back to me. His mouth falls open as he looks me up and down. He reaches over and unties the neck of my top and it falls to the floor.

His gaze drops to my breasts and I watch his tongue trail along his bottom lip. “Christ.” The single word comes out as almost a groan.

He lets out another ragged breath before he pulls me into his arms again. His lips press just behind my ear as one arm slides up the length of my spine again, sending another shiver of electricity through my skin, while his other hand trails down to my bare ass. His lips meet mine again as his fingers press into my flesh.

I gasp against his mouth and start to fumble with the button at his waistline. He grabs my wrist and lifts my hand so that it rests on his chest again, his other hand unfastening and removing his pants in a single, fluid motion.

His arms encircle my waist and he lifts me into the shower. I can feel his pulsing, thick heat, though he’s careful not to press against me. He sets me on my feet and leans me against the wall under the shower head and hot water rains on us both. His lips drop to my collarbone and one hand slides up my front, cupping my breast in his hand.

My neck arches and my hands curl into his hair. I try not to moan as he works my nipple into a tight bud with his thumb. My eyes close at the heat coiling inside me, centering at my core as pleasure courses through my every cell.

His mouth finds mine again and he captures my lips in another searing kiss.

He dips his head again a moment later, breaking our kiss as he nips and sucks at my breast before he pulls back, his tongue trailing down my front as he sinks to his knees.

I let out another gasp. Raw electricity pulses inside me before his tongue even finds the sensitive flesh beneath the folds between my legs. His hands find my hips, and I rock into him, the slow stroke of his tongue nearly sending me over the edge before I even know what’s happening. My hands curl into his hair as the world explodes around me. “Oh, God. Leo.”

I barely hear him groan over the sound of my pulse thrashing in my ears. He kisses his way up my abdomen as he stands, and his lips are on mine again in what seems like the space of a heartbeat. My hands drop to his chest, tracing his muscles. I draw a finger carefully over the barely healed wound on his side as I feel my way down to his abdomen, then lower.

He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand back to his chest, his lips never leaving mine. He tips his head away for only a second to speak. “Not yet.”

His hands trail down my back, gripping my ass for a moment. His lips return to mine, almost branding me with his desire.

My core aches as the heat begins to coil around my belly again. I hook my leg over his, pulling him into me. His thick cock pulses against me and I’m almost overcome with a need I don’t remember ever feeling before. I don’t just want him—I need him.

I pull away from him, breaking our kiss. I let my lips trail over his chest, finding my way to his abdomen. My finger traces the wound on his torso again before my kisses trail lower. I’m about to sink to my knees and take him into my mouth—I need to taste him. I’ve never wanted any man like this—I’ve never willingly wanted anything like this before.

But before I can do anything, he lifts me up, his arms sliding under mine. His lips find mine again as he pulls me out of the shower. He reaches down to turn off the water before he guides me backward and out of the small bathroom, both of us still dripping wet. He carries me into my bedroom and gently sets me on my back on the edge of the bed.

“I need to hear you say it, Elle.” His breaths are ragged—he wants me at least as much as I want him. He stands in front of me, his eyes trailing over my body, up and down, up and down, and I can see the desire—the hunger in his gaze.

I’m still breathless, barely able to speak. “I want you, Leo. I need you. Now.” I try not to think about how desperate that sounds—I can’t remember feeling this way before. This overwhelming desire—almost a longing to have him inside of me. I’m almost writhing in pain at having this much distance between our bodies.

He lets out a low groan and his eyes flutter closed for a second. “Condom. I don’t have a condom. Fuck—”

My heart pounds for a second and my mouth opens in disappointment until I remember where I am. “Top drawer of the nightstand.” It’s bullshit to try to pretend I don’t have any, and I have no desire to delay this any longer than we already have.

He opens the drawer, tearing open the foil packet before sliding on the condom. He covers my body with his only a moment later, his hands sliding up my back before he fists a hand into my hair to arch my head back, forcing my gaze to his. “Tell me again, Elle.”

My heart flutters at his words and I can’t help but shiver. I’m barely able to speak—my lungs can’t seem to fill with enough air. “I need you.” I have to pause for a moment. “I want you, Leo.”

A low groan escapes him before his lips meet mine once more. He presses himself between my thighs and I feel him everywhere as he buries himself inside me. His hands move across my skin, almost an orchestrated symphony of pleasure—he seems to know exactly where to touch me, exactly what will bring me ecstasy—and I’ve barely been able to say a word.

He rocks into me again and again, and with every touch, I approach the edge once more. He seems to sense how close I am and his thrusts slow. He waits, almost willing me to climax again. His hand finds my breast and with his long, slow strokes over my skin, I explode around him, crying out his name with a loud gasp. Only a moment later, he threads a hand in my hair, his other hand on my hip as he reaches his own climax, his body shuddering over mine as he groans my name.

We lie there in stillness, almost refusing to let the other go. He tips his head into my hair, taking a long breath—almost drinking me in. He kisses the side of my head without a word before he edges himself away from me, disappearing out the door.

I lift myself onto my elbows, suddenly feeling very exposed. I roll off the bed and pull down the blankets, slipping under them.

He should only be gone a minute, but he seems to be taking his time. My heart is beating a little too fast, waiting. And as the minutes tick by, I realize it’s taking too long for him to return.

He’s not coming back. I fucked this up, too.

* * *