I can’t get enough of this woman.

In meetings, I’m hopeless. Our clients’ words might as well be meaningless babble. Sandro pulls me aside and tells me to wake the fuck up because my new reputation as a committed boyfriend won’t be enough to save us if I’m mentally checked out.

When I’m not in meetings, I’m with her.

On Wednesday, I get as far as the front door of the office before I press her against the building and kiss her until we’re both panting.

On Thursday, I call her into my office for lunch, roll up my sleeves, and make a meal of her on top of my desk.

On Friday, I tell her we’re going to look at some paint samples, but we only make it as far as my truck before I pull her onto my lap and fuck her in the parking lot.

Saturday is blissful. There are no distractions and no interruptions. We stay in my bed for most of the day, insatiable to the point of absurdity. We order pizza and feed it to each other, and in the evening, we curl up on the couch and watch her favorite movies.

Her laugh makes my chest ache. I want to record it and play it back over and over again. The thoughts running through my head feel like they belong to a different man, or maybe this is just what it feels like to fall for someone. You lose old parts of yourself to make room for newer, better ones.

When Sunday morning rolls around, I replace myself thinking of reasonable excuses I could give Sandro for not showing up tomorrow. I’m a terrible partner, a terrible boss. I used to be so fucking responsible when I was running shit in New York, and now look at me. I’m a fucking mess.

Blake’s snuggled against me, her cheek pressed to my chest, one leg and one arm thrown over my body.

She wakes up with a loud yawn. Her eyes meet mine, and a happy smile tugs on her lips. She props her chin on top of my hand and whispers, “Hi.”

“Hey. Sleep well?”

Keeping our eyes locked, she presses a kiss to my chest. “Like a baby. You?”

I haven’t had a single bad dream since we started sharing this bed. “I always get great sleep after a good bout of cardio.”

She snickers, and a blush colors her cheeks.

She seems content. I was worried she’d pull away after that first night and let some of her old doubts about me creep in, but that hasn’t happened.

Thank fucking God. I don’t know what I’d do if she pushed me away again.

“So about tomorrow…”

She groans. “I’m going back to Frostbite tomorrow.”

Fuck. I forgot about that. Has it really been two weeks?

I swallow my disappointment at not having her all to myself. “How you feel about that?”

“Awful.”

That opening is all I need. “Then don’t go.”

“I need the money.”

“I’ve got lots,” I murmur. “You can have it. Let me take care of you.”

Her brow arches. “I thought your business was in trouble just a few weeks ago.”

“Back on track now,” I say. It’s not a lie—things really are turning around—but it’s not my income from Handy Heroes that I was referring to. I still have access to my offshore accounts, and there’s more than enough there. For me, Handy Heroes was never about the money. It was about staying busy and productive. Something to keep me from going insane. But now that I have Blake, I’m tempted to just give the entire business to Sandro to run so that I can spend more time with her.

If I tell him that, he’ll never let me hear the end of it.

Blake sits up, settling in beside me with her legs crossed under the sheet. “I can’t take your money.”

“Why not?”

She gestures between us. “This is new. Very new. And we’re both hopped up on endorphins. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Me giving you money is not a big decision.”

She swallows, her crystal-clear blue eyes focused on my face. “I know you’re just being sweet, but I don’t want your money, Rowan. It’s important for me to be able to take care of myself.”

She’s being rational about this, while I’m feeling all kinds of irrational. I don’t want to slow down. I don’t want to be cautious.

I want her to be mine, in every possible way, and I want to provide for her. Yes, because it’ll make her life easier, but also because it makes me feel good.

“Is it because of Brett?” My knuckle traces the contour of her cheek. “Because he was your boyfriend and the guy who signed your paychecks?”

“Partially,” she admits.

“It wouldn’t be like that.” I don’t want to use my money to control her. I want to help her.

“I know, but—“

“I could give you the money up front, however much you need, no questions asked. It doesn’t make sense for you to keep working at a place you hate if you don’t have to.“

“I’m sorry, but no.” There’s a resolute look in her eyes that tells me she won’t change her mind. “Whenever my mom took money from my dad, that money was never truly hers. It came with strings attached. I know you’re not like him, but I still can’t accept it.”

I concede. For now. “Okay. If this is your last day of freedom, we should do something fun.”

The smile I adore is back. “What do you have in mind?”

“You pick.”

She shrugs. “You’re the fun one.”

“That’s true. How about that lesson I won at the auction?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I’ve seen inside all your cupboards. You don’t have any of the stuff we’d need.”

I know a place that has it all. “Why don’t we do the class at Frostbite?”

“It’s closed today. And even if it were open, Brett would never let me use it for this. He’s a sore loser.”

“Don’t you have a way to get inside?”

She looks taken aback. “Are you saying you want to break in?”

“It’s not breaking in if you have the key.”

“Rowan, that’s crazy.”

I smirk. It’s adorable how appalled she is. “It’s not like we’ll use up much liquor with just the two of us. What’s the harm?”

Her eyes are wide. “What if he catches us? He’ll be furious. He might call the cops.”

“Sunshine, he won’t catch us. C’mon, tell me about the cameras, and I’ll devise a rock-solid plan.”

“Uh-huh. What are you, some criminal mastermind?”

My laugh is a tinge too loud. “I’m full of secret talents.”

She brings her thumb to her mouth and gnaws on her nail, thinking. “I don’t know…”

“If we get caught, I’ll take the blame,” I offer.

She keeps chewing on her nail.

“Isn’t there a tiny part of you that wants to do something to get back at him for being such a dick?” I poke at her ribs.

That gets through to her. I can see a small spark in her eyes. “He is a dick. And I mean…we wouldn’t be hurting anyone.”

“Not at all. Just a bit of harmless mischief.”

She drags her palms over her face and sighs. “Okay. There’s a camera at the back entrance. There’s also one at the front, but it’s been broken for the last few months. Break-ins aren’t really a thing around here, so Brett hasn’t been in a rush to fix it.”

I grin. “Then we’re golden.”


As expected, the parking lot outside of Frostbite is abandoned when we get there in the midafternoon. We use Blake’s key to get in through the front door and walk through the empty dining room all the way to the wooden bar at the back.

Whatever jitters Blake had on the drive over are gone now. She takes off her jacket, slings it over the bar, and goes around to the service side while I take one of the stools across from her.

“What should we start with?” I ask.

“Something easy. An old-fashioned.” She glances at the shelves stacked with liquor. “I need a bourbon.”

A minute later, she’s got all the ingredients set out in front of me—a bottle of Buffalo Trace, angostura bitters, sugar, and a bit of water.

“You’ve never made one before, right?”

I shake my head. “When I feel like bourbon, I usually drink it straight.”

“This will be just a little sweeter and more flavorful.” She takes out two tall glasses from behind the bar and slides one my way. “First, we’re going to mix the sugar, bitters, and water together in here.”

She walks me through the right amounts, correcting me when I do it wrong. A smirk tugs at my lips. I like seeing her in her element.

“Okay, now measure out two ounces of bourbon and pour it over the ice. Then you’ll need to stir everything together until it’s chilled.”

“You’re a stern teacher,” I comment. “It’s kind of turning me on.”

She gives me an amused look. “This is a serious lesson. Pay attention.”

I laugh. “Oh, I’m paying attention.”

When she’s satisfied with my mixing, she gives me a strainer and a smaller glass with a single ice cube inside and tells me to strain the drink into it. She comes around the bar and climbs up on the stool beside me.

“What do you think?” she asks me after we take our first sip.

“Delicious. Let me try yours.” She slides her glass my way and takes mine.

I watch as her lips press to the rim of my glass. Her drink is perfectly balanced. Mine’s too heavy on the bitters.

“Not bad for a first try,” she says. “Let’s see how you handle the next recipe.”

“I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed with all this new information. I think it’s time for a break.”

She laughs. “Whatever you want, Rowan. You paid five thousand dollars for this experience, remember?”

I stand, lift her to sit on top of the bar, and step between her legs. Sitting up there, she’s nearly at my eye level. I wrap my palms around her thighs.

“Whatever I want? Dangerous words, Sunshine.” Slowly, I undo the buttons of her shirt. She’s wearing a light-blue bra underneath with a front clasp that’s all too convenient to pop open.

When her tits spill out, I let out a low groan. My cock swells. So fucking perfect. I bend down to capture a nipple with my mouth. She moans and arches her back, pressing into me like she’s eager for me to do the same to her other breast, but I pull away and pick up my drink.

She hisses when the cool glass makes contact with her skin. With hooded eyes, she looks mesmerized as she watches me roll the glass back and forth over her nipples until they harden into points. I tip the cocktail and let a little bit of the amber liquid run down her chest. I lean in and catch the rivulet with my tongue.

She lets out a moan. “Oh God.”

“Tastes even better this way,” I murmur and drag my tongue over her hot, wet flesh.

She buries her fingers in my hair, tugging me closer. If there’s one thing I love about fucking her, it’s when she shows me how needy she is for me, how badly she wants more.

I suck on her tits until they’re pink and scattered with hickeys, and then I push her shirt and bra down her arms. Sliding my hands under her ass, I move her from the bar to one of the barstools.

It’s the perfect height.

Her jeans come off, along with her panties, and then she’s naked on the stool, her back against the bar, her legs spread open for me, just for me, in the restaurant owned by her ex.

She glances around, and a flush creeps up her neck, like she’s only now realizing how fucking dirty and hot this is.

I take off my shirt and toss it on top of the bar. “Nervous?”

She bites down on her lip. “This is so wrong. What if we get caught?”

I reach behind her and take the elastic out of her hair, admiring how it settles around her face. She looks like a fucking angel. “We’re not going to get caught, but I think a part of you likes the thrill.” My hand slides over her chest and down to her pussy, replaceing it wet. “This part right here. You’re dripping, baby.” I pinch her clit and then rub it in tight circles, making her pant and squirm. “Do you want my cock inside your little pussy? Is it weeping for me?”

Her head lolls to one side. “Yes. God, yes.”

I keep rubbing her as I undo my jeans, pushing my boxers out of the way and letting my cock spring out. When I fish a condom out from my pocket, she glances at it. Swallows.

“Do you always use those?”

“Yeah.”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she murmurs, “but I’m on birth control.”

I press my forehead against hers. “You want me to fuck you raw?”

She swallows again and then nods.

A surge of satisfaction rushes through me at the fact that she trusts me enough to do this with me, followed by a wave of heat. “Fuck. I can’t wait to fill up your sweet little cunt.” I’m harder than ever, so fucking desperate for her.

She curls her hand around me and guides me to her swollen, throbbing pussy.

The moment I sink into her, a groan tumbles past my lips.

Wet. Warm. Mine.

I pull out slowly and then push back in, stuffing her full of me. Her legs wrap around my hips while I bracket her with my arms against the edge of the bar. It’s hard to hold back, hard to keep it slow, but she doesn’t want it slow. She pulls me into her, digging her heels into the backs of my thighs, and begs me, “Faster. Harder.”

I fuck her like I’ll never get a chance to fuck her again. We’re no better than two animals in heat, scratching, tugging, pulling. My teeth dig into her full bottom lip, and she carves my back with her nails, her moans spilling into the air.

“So good,” she whines. “God, that’s so good.”

And then I feel her clench around me. It’s enough to make my balls tighten, enough to push me over the edge. I groan and dig my fingers into her hips. She milks my orgasm with her perfect cunt, her face slack with pleasure, her eyes hazy with lust.

The silence of the restaurant is broken only by our ragged, panting breaths, and I wrap my hands around her narrow waist and lift her to sit back on top of the bar.

“Spread your legs, baby,” I say in a voice that’s no more than a rasp. “I want to watch my cum drip out of you onto that bar.”

She licks her lips and then parts her thighs, showing me what I want to see.

“Good girl.”

Seeing me leaking out of her calls to the most primal part of me. I’m entranced. I can’t look away. I drag my thumb over my bottom lip and imprint the image into my memory.

She tips her head back, watching me with hooded eyes. “Did you get your money’s worth?”

I let out a rough breath. “Sunshine, it was by far the best money I’ve ever spent.”

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