“What are they?”

“Being your PA and making cocktails.”

“My PA?” I frown.

“Pussy attendant.”

I giggle. “Oh, I do like the sound of that.”

“Do you pay bonuses?” he asks.

“I pay in orgasms.”

He chuckles and taps his glass with mine. “My favorite currency.”

“Okay.” I shrug. “Do the bartending course and then we’ll go, I guess.”

“Deal.” He smiles. He runs his hand up my thigh under the table, and I sip my drink. Is he going to bring up anything at all about why he left?

We fall silent again.

“What else did you do while you were home?” I ask. “You said you had to sign something.”

“Yeah, I did.” He shrugs. “That and had a near mental breakdown.”

“About what?”

“You.”

My eyes search his. “Why did you leave?”

“I panicked.”

“About what?” I whisper as I put my hand over his on my thigh. “Why? It’s just me.”

“Just you is . . . a lot.”

My face falls. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He sips his drink as if trying to think of the right thing to say. “I’ve never . . .” He exhales heavily, lost for words.

“Christopher,” I prompt him, “you can talk to me. We are friends before anything else.”

His eyes search mine. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever wanted more with.”

I lean in and kiss him softly.

“You’re the first girl that I’ve ever been loyal to.”

“We only just got together.”

“I haven’t been with anyone for a few months.”

What?

My heart flips . . . he’s doing it without me asking.

It’s all falling into place.

He shrugs. “I couldn’t . . . and I . . . I don’t want to screw this up.”

I smile over at my beautiful man. “You won’t.” I kiss him again.

“How do you know?” he asks.

“Because as long as we’re communicating openly, you can’t screw things up.”

He stares at me.

“Running away is how you screw things up.”

“I’m sorry, I was just so . . . and . . .” His eyes hold mine; he’s lost for words.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” I say.

“What’s that?”

“If things get too heavy and you feel yourself freaking out or being uncomfortable, just say to me, ‘I’m going to need a minute.’”

He frowns.

“And then I’ll know what’s going on, and I’ll step back for a while to let you adjust.”

“I don’t want you to have to tiptoe around me,” he replies.

“I won’t be. Asking for some space is completely healthy in a relationship. You need to learn to trust us.”

He nods, seemingly deep in thought.

“You’re lucky that I know what a big baby you are,” I reply as I sip my drink.

His mouth falls open in fake horror, and I want to lighten the mood.

“And maybe you just need a good punishing. I’ll smack you tonight.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s a few things you don’t know about me too,” I reply as I try to keep a straight face.

“Such as.”

“Christopher.” I take his hand in mine, acting serious. “I’m a dominant, and I want to tie you up and whip you with a belt and fuck you up the ass with a strap-on dildo.”

He snorts margarita up his nose and chokes. “What the fuck?” He coughs.

“And . . . I want you to wear anal beads,” I continue. “I bought you some. I know they’re big, but this is the size I want you to be stretched to.”

His horrified eyes hold mine.

“I have them in my handbag. I’ll put them in,” I reply seriously as I keep playing along. “We can go into the bathroom and do it now if you want. You just have to bend over and touch your toes. I’ve got some lube, and it will only be uncomfortable for a moment, but you will learn to love it . . . for me.”

“Absolutely fucking not.” He slams his drink down onto the counter in an outrage. “That is not happening. Hayden, get that shit out of your head right fucking now,” he demands.

I burst out laughing, unable to continue the ruse any longer. His eyes widen as he realizes I was pulling his leg. “Are you serious?” he gasps. “I just had a fucking heart attack.”

I giggle.

“Don’t,” he cries. “I thought I was dating Jack the fucking Ripper or some shit.”

I laugh hard and so does he. Relieved, he grabs the back of my head and drags me in and kisses me. “The only person who is getting fucked up the ass around here is you,” he murmurs against my lips.

“Aah . . . that’s a no.” I pull out of the kiss. “That is not my thing. I’ve never even done that before.”

His eyes widen in amazement. “So . . . it’s all mine?” he whispers in awe.

“No,” I reply. “It’s mine, actually.”

His eyes blaze with fire, and damn it, why did I even joke around about that subject with a sexual deviant? This is going to come back and bite me on the ass . . . literally.

The bartender comes over. “You two after anything?”

Christopher’s eyes flick to me. “You want to get going to somewhere else?”

“No.” I smile. “I’m happy with what I have right here.”

We burst through the hotel room door. Our lips are locked.

Desire between us has hit fever pitch.

The apartment is darkened, lit only by lamps.

The mood in here is sexual, but maybe that’s the company I’m with.

Christopher Miles is sexual.

It’s late. We didn’t even leave the hotel. We drank and ate and laughed right downstairs, and it’s already the best night of my life.

Christopher bends and lifts my dress over my head, and the room falls silent.

His dark eyes drop down my body. He licks his lips as he drinks me in.

I stand before him in nothing but lace underwear and high heels.

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to touch you like this?” he murmurs as his lips take mine. His tongue swipes tenderly through my lips, and my eyes close.

Oh . . .

“How many times I’ve jerked off imagining it was you?”

I smile against his lips as we kiss.

He undoes my bra and slowly takes it off. His eyes drop to my full breasts, and he inhales sharply. He cups them in his hands. His thumbs dust back and forth over my hardened nipples as he kisses me.

He drops to the floor and undoes my stilettos. With his eyes locked on mine, he licks up my thigh, and I hold his shoulders for support as I watch.

He kisses me there . . .

I can’t breathe.

Thump, thump, thump, goes my heart.

Oh god, can we just get on with this? I’m so nervous that I’m about to pass out.

He pulls my panties to the side and licks me with his thick strong tongue, and I shudder.

It’s been a long time.

“Hmm,” he moans into me. He stands as if spurred on and takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. The room is lit only by the lamp. The ambience in here is perfect.

He lays me down on the bed, and then he slides my panties down and spreads my legs.

“That’s it,” he whispers. His voice is deep, husky. Different from how it normally sounds.

He runs his hand down my face, over my breasts, and down between my legs. Without hesitation, he slides his finger deep inside of me and inhales sharply. “Fucking hell, you feel good,” he breathes.

I clench around him, and arousal blazes in his eyes. “Do that again.”

I do it again, and his jaw tics. He stands with urgency and kicks off his shoes. Then, with his eyes locked on mine, he undoes the buttons on his shirt, and his beautiful body comes into view: broad tanned chest, stomach rippled with muscle, and a trail of dark hair that disappears into the top of his jeans.

I hold my breath as he slides down the zipper on his jeans and then slides his jeans and boxers down and takes them off, and my eyes widen in horror.

What.

The.

Fuck.

His dick is huge and angry looking . . . not like any dick I ever saw before. I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.

He smiles, reading my mind, and puts his hands proudly on his hips. “Well?”

“Umm . . .” My saucer-size eyes are going cross-eyed. “I’m going to need a minute.”

“You don’t have one.” He smiles as he crawls over the top of me.

“Seriously . . .” I begin to freak out. “That’s . . .”

“Yours.”

My heart somersaults in my chest, and I smile up at him.

Mine.

“Kiss me,” he breathes.

In those two words, my fear disappears, and I lean up and kiss him. We take our time, kissing slowly, enjoying being here and in the moment with each other. So many nights we’ve lain together, and now we’re here, doing this, naked and aroused.

It’s surreal.

He goes to move down my body, and I stop him.

“No.”

His brow furrows. “What?”