I tilt my head with a grimace, removing the wrapper and discarding it on the floor. “How would you know? I thought you refused to wear these things?”

“I refused to wear one with you, and if you’re so fucking adamant about it now, then you’re going to do it.” He grabs my empty hand, forcing it against his cock, holding me there as we both feel him pulse to life. “Get the fuck on with it, already.”

Every pissy response I have in me vanishes at the feel of him throbbing, begging for this, for more of what we both need. The second he’s fully hard, I roll the condom down his length with frantic fingers, ignoring the shake in my hand and narrowing in on my task. He spins me around, tilting my body to the angle he needs to drive straight into me. His cock lines up, slides over my pussy, and I’m so ready for this my legs begin to tremble.

I know exactly what this feels like. No matter how bad I wanted to, I never forgot it. But the moment he bottoms out and digs his deft fingers into my skin, I see stars, and the only thing I can remember is how to moan.

“Oh God,” I cry out as he begins thrusting into me, causing my body to practically fold in half. His hard chest forms to my back, his arm wrapping around my breasts and pulling me up until I’m staring at our reflection in the mirror on the wall. His eyes are there, holding me, as his thrusts become feverish.

“Fuck, you’re so…” His words are broken up by a strangled groan that catches in his throat. He dips his head, tasting the skin of my neck up to my ear. “Why? Why does it have to be this good?”

I ignore his words because I don’t have an answer. I wish it didn’t feel like this, but it always has, and I hate knowing it always will.

Our eyes never break contact as he grinds into me, his one hand massaging my breast as his other splays across my stomach inching lower, lower, until he brushes against my clit and I arch against him.

“Luke,” I pant, reaching up and raking over his short hair as his tongue slides across the curve of my neck. His lips brush against my cheek and I tense. “Please don’t kiss me.”

I can’t feel his lips on mine. The slightest brush I felt earlier before I begged for this is all I can take. Sex is usually the most intimate act two people can share, but not with Luke.

The hesitant yet urgent tilt of his head, the way he sucks my tongue while his hands hold me like I’m delicate… Everything else this man does is deliberate, calculated, but not kissing. That’s where he loses control. Something snaps, breaking his discipline while he steals every memory of any other kiss out of your head. It’s honest and real, and fucking beautiful the way he gives you all of him when he’s always held back. And seeing him lose all restraint like that, allowing you a glimpse at how vulnerable he can be is something I know I can’t survive.

I never have.

He eases back, allowing his breath to heat my skin while his eyes search for understanding in my reflection. He must see it, how helpless I feel in his arms. It’s so strikingly obvious to me, as unmistakable as my need to be here. Right fucking here.

He lunges harder, faster, his pace breaking into a wild frenzy as my lips part with a moan and my head hits his shoulder. This is it. The heat, that sweet fire that I’d die from if it meant feeling like this one more time.

With him.

“I’m… oh, God, I’m…”

He growls against my ear as his hand squeezes my breast. “Faking?”

“Asshole,” I choke out through a moan, catching his knowing grin before my eyes roll closed. The pleasure barrels through me in waves, pushing me further into his touch as his grip on me tightens. I drop my hand, stopping the slide of his fingers against my clit when I can’t take it anymore. My body falls lax against his as he slows his movements completely before pulling out.

“Turn around.”

Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I realize only then that he hasn’t climaxed yet. I steady myself before turning to face him, watching as he tugs the condom off and strokes his cock. A firm hand presses against my shoulder, easing me to my knees, and I go willingly, wrapping my lips around him and letting him hit the back of my throat.

“Aw fuck, yeah. There’s nothing like your mouth.”

I let him drop out with a pop. “Not even my pussy?”

He frowns, rubbing his cock against my lips. “When I can fucking feel it. Now open up.”

His face tenses as I take him all the way, feeling his hands fist in my hair as I begin moving. He’s on the edge in seconds, his chest heaving as he thrusts into my mouth. He growls through a moan as I run my hands up his body, over his ink, and I watch as his eyes roll closed, head falling forward as the word “fuck” struggles to escape his lips.

I swallow three times, licking the length of him before sitting back on my heels. We stare at each other, him still trying to steady his breathing while I struggle to figure out what my next words should be.

Thanks?

Let’s not let that happen again?

Fuck you?

Max comes into the living room and ends all awkward silence with his clanging ID tags. I scramble to my feet, covering myself as Luke grabs his boxers and slips them on.

“That was—”

“I’m going to bed.” My words cut his off, and he blinks heavily before he turns away from me, picking up his shorts and stepping into them. “Sorry, what?”

He shakes his head, grabbing his T-shirt and shrugging it on. “Nothing. Come on, Max. Let’s go outside.”

I watch the two of them stalk toward the door as my brain tries to figure out what I interrupted. That was… fun? A mistake? Both?

Luke opens the door, snapping his fingers and getting Max’s attention. They both walk outside, and I wait, hopeful, for another look from Luke before the door closes, but I don’t get one.

I just slept with the guy I’ve spent the last year trying to forget.

Tessa Kelly, you are an idiot.

“God, you’re a fucking idiot.”

I run my hands down my face as Max sniffs around the small lawn in front of Tessa’s apartment building. A year, twelve fucking months of trying to dull out my obsession and I go and do the worst possible thing I could do right now. The feel of her pulsing around me as I proved exactly what I knew I could do to her body is staying with me like a phantom limb, causing me to sport a semi even after I’ve had relief.

No, not even relief. A blow-job from Tessa is way the hell more than that. I can give myself relief. What she gives me? There’s not a damn word invented yet to sum that experience up.

She faked it? Fuck that. I wasn’t about to let her try and deny everything I gave her. If she needed to be reminded of what I could do to her, then I’d suffer the consequences and let her come all over my fingers just to prove a point.

But the moment she said she needed more, I should’ve stopped. Protested. Fucking ran out of the room and locked myself in another. I knew exactly how this would play out. I knew I’d be completely screwing myself by satisfying the incessant need I’ve done a shit job at ignoring. But did that stop me? Did the thought of being more strung-out on her prevent me from acting on every impulse I had?

No. My cock saw an opportunity, and he took it.

Even with a condom, she’s still perfection, and that’s seriously fucking with me right now. Things would be a lot easier if the sex I just had was anything other than phenomenal, but I apparently forgot a few things about Tessa that I was quickly made aware of the moment I slid inside her.