“Good girl,” he says before his mouth comes down on mine in a light kiss that makes my insides flutter. “I always want you to know it’s me kissing you,” he says against my mouth.

“How could I not?” I say without thinking.

I groan and start to look at the ground when his hands circle my neck, his thumbs going under my chin to tilt my head back. His face lowers to mine, his tongue touches my bottom lip, and I lean closer, my hands landing on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under my palms. My mouth opens, and he groans when my tongue touches his. I’m so lost in the kiss that I whimper when he pulls his mouth from mine.

“That’s how I want you to say good morning.” His hands travel down to mine, which are still on his chest, and he grabs them to pull them back behind his neck. Then his hands travel down along my sides and to my waist, pulling my h*ps closer to his.

“I have to get ready for work,” I say softly, my hands running up the back of his longer hair to run it through my fingers.

His hands palm my ass, pulling me even closer to him. “I like you here,” he says as his fingers travel up the back of my tank and run along my back. I like it here too. I don’t know what this is, but I like it, and I want more. “You get off at six, right?” he asks. It takes a second for me to answer; the warmth of his skin, his scent, and the way his hands feel on me all have my body buzzing with something I’ve never felt before. “You wanna have dinner at your house or mine?”

“Are you going to cook?” I ask, tilting my head to the side studying his face.

“Of course,” he says, nipping my neck and making my breath hitch.

“I really need to get ready for work,” I say again, my hands going down the back of his neck from his shoulders to his chest.

“I really don’t want to let you go, but I know you need to get ready,” he says, bringing his face to mine and kissing me once more on the mouth before turning me around to face the bathroom; he pats my ass, sending me on my way.

I walk into the bathroom before remembering I left my bag. I go back out to grab it, and he has it in his hand, holding it out to me with a smirk on his face.

“Thanks,” I say, reaching out to take it. I squeak out when he drops the bag, grabs my hand, and pulls me back to him, hearing the thud at the same time his mouth lands on mine. His hands go to my ass, lifting me closer to him, and this time, the kiss is a lot deeper and rougher than the ones before.

I’m panting and trying to crawl up his body when he pulls his mouth away from mine, muttering a quiet, “Fuck.”

“Wow,” I say, bringing my fingers to my lips.

“I’m going to need to work out a lot,” he growls, making me smile at his words. “All right, now,” he says, picking up my bag. “Go get ready for work.”

I look into his eyes, seeing that they’re heavy with lust. My heart skips a beat as I take my bag from him and stumble into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I lean back against the cool wood and take a few deep breaths. Once my heartbeat calms, I look into the mirror; my lips are dark pink and swollen, my cheeks are flushed an attractive shade of pink, and I see a happiness in my eyes that looks foreign to me.

After I finish getting ready in the bathroom, I slip on my heels—four-inch cream-lace peep-toe booties with bows going up the center. I straighten out my navy-blue pencil skirt and make sure my top is tucked in before heading into the kitchen. I walk across the living room carpet, watching as Nico types away on the laptop in front of him at the counter. He’s still shirtless; his golden skin covered with tattoos is so gorgeous that I really want to trace every single one with my tongue and fingers as he tells me the history behind each of them.

As soon as my feet hit the tile floor, his head comes up and turns towards me. I watch him shake his head when his eyes travel down my body to my feet. When our gazes meet again, my step falters at his heated look.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to cope knowing that men are looking at you when you’re out. I don’t even want to think about the times I’m out of town, leaving you alone.”

“Men don’t look at me.” I scrunch up my eyebrows and shake my head.

“Fuck yes, they do! You just don’t notice, and they’re too chickenshit to talk to you. No man wants to give a woman the power to crush his ego, and baby, I hate to tell you this, because I like that you don’t realize how beautiful you are, but you are the kind of woman that could make a man feel like he has it all or make him feel like he has absolutely nothing.”

I’ve been holding my breath; I can’t believe he just said that. I’m not stupid. I know I’m considered attractive, but I’ve never had anyone make me feel like he just did with those few words.

“Do you want some coffee?” he asks like he didn’t just turn my world upside down. I look at the clock, seeing that I have time, so I nod once, walking the rest of the way into the kitchen. “How about some toast?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I sit on one of his barstools and watch as he moves around the kitchen, first putting bread in the toaster then pulling out a coffee cup and pouring me some. He pulls the milk out of the fridge and holds it up in question; when I nod, he pours some in the mug and then does the same with the sugar. When he’s done, he places the cup in front of me. Then he gets the toast, spreads butter on it, and places it in front of me, where I’m sitting at the island.

“Do you have any honey?” I ask, picking up a piece of toast.

“Sure, babe,” he says, handing me a bear-shaped bottle of honey from one of his cupboards before coming back to sit next to me.

“Did you decorate?” I ask, squeezing a giant glob of honey onto one of the pieces of toast.

I love his house; I’m surprised at how well it’s decorated. All of his furniture is modern and edgy. In the living room, he has low black carpet and a dark-grey suede couch with black and red pillows, and the entertainment center, coffee tables, and side tables are all the same black-lacquered finish. The kitchen is all dark wood and black granite, with gleaming stainless-steel appliances. Even in his guest room, the furniture was well put together. I could see him in everything, but have a hard time believing he decorated it on his own.

“No, Liz did,” he says so affectionately that my stomach drops.

I watch as he takes a drink of coffee; I never even thought that he might have a girlfriend. Oh, shit—what if he still has a girlfriend? My stomach rolls, and I drop my piece of toast to my plate.

“Liz is my sister-in-law,” he says, catching me off guard. I turn to look at him. He has a look on his face that makes me feel like an idiot. “I like that look on you though.”

“What?” I look away, trying to hide my face with my hair.

“You, looking like you lost something…but only because it was me you were thinking about.”

“You’re full of yourself,” I say, trying to cover how I really feel.

“Nope. I know I want you. Now, seeing that look, I know you feel the same,” he says in a tone that is so serious I hold my breath for a second before recovering.

“I may not have any experience dating, but I’m pretty sure that this,” I say, pointing between the two of us, “isn’t normal.” I shake my head.

“Baby, if I was normal, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You would be at work or at home doing what you do every single day after you pushed me away the first time,” he says, taking another drink of coffee.

He is right. I hate that he is right. I hate that I am so transparent to someone who is a virtual stranger. Everything Maggie said keeps running through my mind—which reminds me that I never called her after our dinner the other night. I look over at Nico and my stomach drops. I don’t think it’s fair to explore this thing with him when I’m not even sure who I really am.

His eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, but know this—you run and I will find you.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask nervously.

“Tell me something,” he says, turning towards me, his knees caging me in. “What do you feel when we’re together?”

I want to say, “Safe,” but know that sounds stupid, so I keep my mouth closed.

“Tell me,” he urges, leaning towards me.

“I…I don’t know.” I look down at my hands.

“You do know. Say it,” he demands.

“Safe,” I whisper, still looking at my hands. I feel his fingers at my chin as he lifts my face so our eyes meet.

“You are safe with me, Sophie.” His fingers run along my jaw. “We are going to explore this thing between us. We are going to take it as slowly as you need, but you are not going to push me away. It’s not going to work. You push me, and I will push back.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” I tell him, looking over his shoulder before meeting his eyes again.

“Yeah.” He nods, his thumb running over my bottom lip. “But we have time. Tonight, I’ll make dinner here and we can work on getting to know each other.”

“Sure.” I sigh, starting to understand something about him—he is relentless.

“Finish your toast,” he says, picking his coffee back up and turning slightly away from me, his legs still boxing me in.

I start eating again, trying not to think about the way it feels every time his hand rubs along my arm or back like he can’t stop touching me. I finish my toast then stick my finger into my mouth to suck the honey off. I start to put my thumb in my mouth when he grabs my wrist, bringing my hand to his mouth, and his eyes meet mine as his lips close around my thumb.

I’m paralyzed. The space between my thighs starts to tingle. I bite my lip to avoid the moan I feel in my throat. I watch in fascination as he pulls my thumb out of his mouth, placing a light kiss on the tip, and I swear I feel it on my clit.

“Sweet.” He leans in, placing a kiss on my lips before picking up my plate and walking into the kitchen, leaving me in a gooey mess sitting on the barstool.

I stand on shaky legs, taking a breath before walking over to my bag to pick it up off the couch.

“Do you have everything?”

I nod; I can’t seem to talk anymore.

“I’ll walk you out.” He places his hand on the small of my back, leading me to the front door.

He opens it, and I stop to look up at him. “Thank you for…you know…last night…and this morning,” I say, my cheeks heating up, making me feel like a dork.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles before lowering his head to kiss me.

I lean into him, loving the way it feels when he is so close to me. He pulls his mouth away after just a small touch of his lips, leaving me feeling disappointed. “Baby, as much as I want to really kiss you, I can’t. I’m hanging on by a very short thread and know that, if I kiss you like I want, you won’t be going to work, and we will be doing a whole lot of stuff you’re not ready for.”

“Oh,” I whisper, reading his face.

“Now, come on before all my good intentions go out the window,” he says with one more small kiss.

“Okay.” I bite my lip to keep from grinning, liking that I affect him so deeply. I turn and walk out the door and down the steps, and make my way to my car. I start to turn around to give him a wave, but I’m startled when I bump into his solid, still-naked chest. “You don’t have a shirt on,” I tell him shakily, looking around and wondering how many women are peeking through their blinds trying to get a glimpse of him.

“And?” he prompts, sliding my car key from my hand and opening my door.

“People can see you.”

“Babe?” His eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“Nico?” I hear a feminine voice call, and I turn my head and watch as a woman with black hair pulled up into a high ponytail, pink shorts, and a pink hoodie unzipped to show off her tits runs across the lawn to Nico’s driveway. “Oh God, I’m so glad I caught you!” she cries, her long, fake nails digging into his arm. “Henry left this morning and the darn sink in our bathroom won’t shut off. Can you come over and look at it?”

I can’t help but glare at her. Is she serious? I watch as her eyes travel over his body and she licks her lips. That’s when I’ve had enough.

“I’m sorry, but can you give us a second please?” I ask with my sweetest smile before grabbing Nico’s hand so I can drag him back into the house without giving him a choice.

“What are you doing?” he asks as I open the front door.

Daisy starts going crazy like she’s been alone for a year instead of just a few minutes. I don’t even stop to explain myself. I go to the room across from the one I slept in last night, knowing that it’s Nico’s. Then I open the door and look around. Spotting his dresser, I walk to it and start opening drawers.

“Sophie?”

“Just a second,” I say, finally finding a drawer with shirts and pulling out the first one my hand lands on. “Here. Put this on,” I demand, shoving the shirt at him. When I hear his laugh, I turn around to see him smiling, and it’s not a normal smile. That’s when I realize what I just did.

“You done?” he asks, his fingers running along the underside of my jaw. I can’t speak; I can’t even look at him. It’s official—I’m crazy.

“Um…” I mumble, looking over his shoulder. His hand on my cheek brings my eyes back to him.