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His mouth was at my ear, his breathing making my skin even warmer. “Wait until you feel how intense this is going to be.”

I sank all the way down, every inch of his dick inside me.

My head fell back, my lips parting. “Oh God.”

He was right.

This was intense.

Because he was hitting me from a totally different direction.

And even though the amount of fullness had been epic before, it didn’t compare.

“This is”—I tried to take a breath—“fucking wild.”

“I told you.” His voice was gritty, deep. Dominant. “Now fuck me.” His hands were all over me, on my tits, my neck, palming my navel, rubbing my clit. “Jesus, you feel so fucking good.”

The mix of his strokes and clit play was an unexpected combination.

But a combination that was blowing my mind.

I used the sides of the lounger to hold on to, to bear my weight and grind over him, and I was getting hit with multiple sensations.

I could barely keep myself together.

“Oh!” I heard myself scream. “Shit!”

He was meeting me in the middle, arching his hips up, pounding from the bottom while I came down from the top. “Just like that, Jolie.” He nibbled my earlobe. “Faster.”

I didn’t know what was happening.

But as he circled my clit, the sparks of an orgasm were returning to my body.

The desire burning, the sparks surging through me.

And it only grew when he tugged on my nipple, the pressure hard enough to make me scream, “Yes!”

He lengthened each plunge, letting me go as far back as his crown before hammering in, whispering, “I can feel you tightening. You’re going to come.”

I wasn’t sure I could even form a sentence at this point—I was so far gone. But I knew I wanted that for him too. I wanted to not only feel that side of him, but I wanted to see it. To know what vulnerability looked like on Beck.

I turned my face, my cheek pressed against his lips. “Come with me. Please.”

“You want that already?”

“We have all night and two more evenings together … don’t we?”

“We do.” He lunged his hips up. “And I’m going to have endless amounts of this pussy.”

“ Mmm .”

“And I’m going to make this cunt”—he tapped my clit—“come so many fucking times.”

I sucked in some air. “Beck!”

I was there.

At the top.

My toes threatening to slip over the edge while I waited for him to catch up.

And he did; because even though I was frozen and couldn’t move or I’d lose it, he took over the control, and every sign told me he was close. His drives were deep, sharp, his breathing matching mine as he growled, “Jolie!”

That was when I knew he was as far gone as me.

“Beck!”

I immediately began to fall.

My body exploded with shudders; my stomach convulsed. My exhales were coming out in pants, my voice turned scratchy as I yelled, “Ah!”

“Take it! Fucking take it, Jolie!”

I wasn’t the only one losing it; he was too. I could feel the tremors racking his body, the quakes that were blasting through him the same way they were igniting through me.

“Fuck yes! Fuck!”

Our orgasms reached the end at the same time, and even though our breaths were coming out heavy, our sounds were turning light. Beck’s movements gradually slowed and softened until he turned still.

He leaned back into the lounger and brought me with him, my body rising and falling every time he inhaled and exhaled.

I stared at the dark screen of the TV that hung on the wall across from us, my brain a busy intersection of what had just happened and what the future of the next couple of days would look like.

I didn’t know how, but I already had a feeling our goodbye would hurt more than I was ready for.

“Take a shower with me,” he said after what felt like minutes of silence.

A shower.

With Beck Weston.

Who was still inside me.

A sexy combination of muscle and warmth and thick chestnut-brown hair—all things I felt as he lay under me.

I couldn’t wrap my head around any of this.

“I would love that.”

Even though the thought of more vulnerability—standing naked with him under running water—was a lot to process.

His arm was across the front of me, but instead of lifting to get us up, he held on even stronger. “I’ll carry you there in a second. Right now, I like this enough to not want to move.”

I agreed.

It was all …

Perfect.

Still damp from our shower, Beck and I lay next to each other in bed. My arm was stretched across him, and he was holding my wrist above his face, massaging the inside of it. The glow from the TV lit up the space around us, but neither of us was watching it.

His thumb stalled on the small tattoo in the crook beneath my thumb—a spot that could be hidden by a watch, which was why I had chosen it.

“A best friend or an old boyfriend?” he asked.

He was questioning who L was.

“Luke. My ex.” I sighed. “We talked about him earlier.”

“We talked about him— oh shit . The dude whose mouth didn’t get you off—I’m assuming that’s who Luke is?”

“Yep.”

He stroked the thin line of the cursive letter. “It’s the only tattoo on your body. He must have meant a lot to you.”

“We dated our senior year of high school and through our freshman year of college. He goes to Northeastern, not even a ten-minute walk from me.”

“What happened?”

I adjusted the pillow, my head sinking back into the fluff. “He broke my heart.”

“Asshole.”

I laughed. I could now. But for a while, I couldn’t even bear the thought of his name, let alone attempting an expression like the one I had on.

“When the others were mean, he wasn’t. But college changed him.

Or maybe I changed—I don’t know.” I turned my wrist, catching a glimpse of the ink.

“We got these a week after we graduated. He has a J in the same spot. What’s ironic is, around the same time, my parents were griping about how one of their friends’ sons got a whole bunch of tattoos for a girlfriend, and how they ended up breaking up, and how stupid it was of him. And then I went and did this.”

“Do either of your parents’ names start with L ?”

“Sadly, no.”

He released my wrist, his arm tucking behind me, his fingers rubbing my bare back. “Tattoos are removable, if you ever want to go that route.”

I leaned up on my elbow, gently touching his chiseled, tattoo-covered chest. “One day, I’ll definitely get it removed.

For now, I guess it’s a good reminder of why I need to stay focused on school and work.

Those two things, for the most part, monopolize my life.

So, I really don’t have time for assholes. ” I smiled.

“Men are a distraction.” He laughed. “Hey, look, I pulled you away from whatever you and your friend had planned for after the bar, along with everything that you had scheduled for the next couple of days.” He gently bit my chin. “You’re my hostage.”

I let out a soft moan. “But you’re worth it. Men like Luke, not so much.”

His hand stilled at the top of my butt. “How do you know I’m worth it, Jolie?” He paused. “Are you saying that because I’m Beck Weston? Or are you saying it for a different reason?”

“I’ve known you, for what, less than an hour?

And within that short time, you put your mouth between my legs and actually cared enough to give me something no other guy had.

Even the one who had said he loved me.” I traced up to his neck.

“And you’ve made me try things that no one has ever taken the time to encourage me to do—again, not even the one who said he wanted to spend forever with me.

” I flattened my hand, not realizing the placement was over his heart.

“I might not know you on a personal level, but based on those things alone, I would say you’re worth it. ”

He rolled toward me, my hand falling to his back. “Tell me something, Jolie. How did Luke break your heart?”

I rubbed my lips together. “My dad has always said, ‘It’s not what they tell you, it’s what they show you.’ That’s when the true nature of a person’s soul is revealed.” I went quiet for a moment. “Luke showed me who he wasn’t, and the disappointment broke my heart.”

“Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

I nodded. “The smartest I know, which means my future husband is going to have a lot to live up to.” I squeezed both sides of his mouth. “Since he’ll need to have a tongue like yours and a brain like my dad’s.”