Leo pushed from the sofa, his softening dick still inside the sweetest pussy he’d ever plundered. Holy fuck, he was a lost man. Completely disoriented from the brilliance of her sexual appeal.

“Point me toward your room.” He yanked up the waist of his pants so they didn’t end up around his ankles.

Shay lifted her head from his shoulder and swung a lazy hand toward a darkened hall starting beside the kitchen. “Last door on the right.”

She was a deadweight against his chest. Her arms were limp around his shoulders, her legs barely clinging around his waist. He carried her from the room, noticing the lack of frilly, girlie crap through the house. He’d always known her as a guy’s girl. Someone more comfortable in a masculine environment, who had a low tolerance for bitchy drama. But tonight, he’d seen her fragile side.

She was still a feminine force to be reckoned with. Only now he’d seen the full picture instead of the layers of bravado she liked to strengthen herself behind. The realization made it harder for him to contemplate things between them not working.

“Fall asleep, baby girl. I’ll get you to bed.” He was enjoying holding the bundle of vulnerability in his arms. Shay had always been strong, confident, even a little pig-headed. He needed that—someone to keep him on his toes. Yet, he also needed a feminine presence. Someone he could protect. Someone with defenseless moments.

Shay was the brilliant mix of everything he desired. He just needed to figure out a way to remove the petrified look in her eyes every time they discussed Vault of Sin and replace it with something that didn’t resemble a brick wall.

“You know I hate when you call me little girl or baby girl, right?” she mumbled against his shoulder. “If you hadn’t sucked the life right outta me, I’d smack you.”

He smiled, holding back a smart retort. He didn’t want to rile her again. The sun would be rising in less than an hour, and she needed rest. And he had to take a clarifying step back. He was falling, way too fast, and at the moment he couldn’t find the self-preserving pessimism to make himself stop.

Turning into the last room on the right, he inhaled the heady scent of Shay and held in a moan. The intoxicating mix of vanilla and strawberry would forever remind him of the woman in his arms. The sassy wench who smelled like nirvana. He laid her down, resting her head on a pillow before retreating.

“I’ll be back in a sec.” He went in search of her bathroom to clean himself up. Minutes later, he was standing at her bedroom door, leaning against the frame, simply watching her.

She lay on her side, her dark silken hair falling over her shoulder. Her breathing was gentle, her lips slightly parted, the faint hint of a contented smile tilting her lips.

“How long are you going to stand there?” she asked, her dark lashes resting against the tops of her smooth cheeks.

Forever. “I should go.”

Her eyelids fluttered open and she sucked in a lazy breath. “What if I asked you to stay?”

Ask me, Shay. Grant me one last glimpse of your vulnerability before your mask of strength returns in the morning. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” She pulled the sheet up to her chin. “I have questions.”

He padded to the other side of her bed, shucked his loosened pants and climbed under the covers. “Ask all you want after you get some sleep.”

She shook her head and turned to face him. “No. As tired as I am, I won’t rest until we talk.”

The dreaded talk didn’t seem repulsive when discussed from the lips of this gorgeous woman. He slid across to the middle of the bed and rested on one elbow as he faced her. “Then ask.”

He’d tell her everything, no matter how ugly the truth may be in her eyes. He’d learned long ago to never lie about his desires. He just needed to get over his own self-loathing.

“Why?” she whispered.

One word had enough meaning to tighten his lungs. He knew what she meant. No clarification necessary. He’d been asked the same thing numerous times, usually in a heated situation, where the word was an accusation, not a question.

“I’m not entirely sure.” He shrugged. “It’s an addiction of sorts.”

Shit. Shay winced at his confession and he rushed to clarify. “Not to sex.” He stroked a hand down her cheek. “I think I’m hooked on the rush of pride that follows a woman’s orgasm at my hands. I love bringing pleasure. Making someone fall apart is a powerful thing. And having others watch only heightens the sensation.”

She paid no attention to the stroke of his hand. She was emotionally detaching herself, taking a step back even in her almost comatose state. “So Vault of Sin is a part of your life you can’t live without?”

He sucked in a silent breath, not wanting to push her away and not able to lie either. “A woman has the ability to change a man.” He ran his finger under her chin, sliding his thumb along her lower lip.

“I don’t want to change you.” She frowned, clutching the sheet tighter to her chest.

“I know. And I appreciate that.” He wanted so badly to sink his finger between her lips, to feel the rough surface of her tongue against his skin. To change the serious situation to something pleasurable. “I’m prepared to try, Shay. I think that’s all that matters at the moment.”

“Mmm.” Her lids drifted shut. “I want to make you happy,” she murmured. “I’m just not sure I can be the woman you need.”

He remained quiet, listening to her breathing as it became heavier. Even in sleep she was alluring. He lay beside her, continuing to stroke her hair, pulling the sheet down a little to admire the flawless skin of her neck and shoulder. Things between them wouldn’t be easy. Their hurdles were large and overbearing. But taking the chance would be worth it. He could risk rejection one last time. For her.

He just needed to make sure T.J. and Brute were onboard.

The club was a part of the three of them, something Shay probably hadn’t realized, yet. They all spent time downstairs. They all watched. Leo only hoped he was nearby when she figured out being a part of his lifestyle also meant being a part of Brute and T.J.’s too.