Every fiber of my being screams at me not to get into bed with him. A small part of me is actually curious.

His eyes are locked onto me, waiting for me to respond. But I don’t know what to say. I already know I don’t have a choice unless I want to sleep on the floor.

“Are you sure?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to be a problem.

“You’re not a problem,” he says, his tone sharp. “You’re here because I want you to be. This is for both of us.”

I glance at the door longingly, ...