“I do.”

“Can’t we just have sex?” I ask and tug his white T-shirt out of his jeans, then glide my hands over his hard abdomen. “I love your stomach.”

“It was one night, Kate.”

“I don’t care.”

“It was a mistake. She’s much younger than me, and Gabby’s friend, but we were drunk, and it just happened.”

“I don’t care, Eli.” But I do. I so do. I walk away from him and take a deep breath. “Okay, I don’t lie. Yes, I care. I hate it.”

I turn back to him, and he’s standing there, his hands in his pockets, watching me.

“Why?” he asks.

“I don’t know. We’ve both been with other people, and we’ll be with others again when this is done.” His jaw ticks at that. “It’s not rational to hate it, but I do. I don’t want to think about you touching her, or anyone else. I don’t want to think about some other bimbo seeing you naked, or touching you, or being intimate with you. Does that make me a crazy jealous fuck buddy? Probably. But that’s the way it is.”

“One,” he says in a low voice as he advances toward me. “You are not now, nor have you ever been, my fuck buddy. That’s disrespectful to both of us, and I won’t have that.”

I frown, but he holds his hand up, stopping any words that might have come out.

“Two, I agree. I know you were no virgin when I met you, but I don’t want to think about your partners. Nor do I want to think about you with anyone after me. Because this is just between you and me, Kate.

“And three,” he whispers as he stops just inches in front of me. I can feel the heat from his body; I can smell his shampoo.

I want him to touch me.

“Three, all I can see, all I can think about, is you. I want you. You don’t just cross my mind once in a while, you live in it.”

My eyes widen as I watch him carefully, completely sober now. He’s still not touching me.

“We said this would only last for as long as you’re here. Only us. No one else, and damn it, Kate, that hasn’t changed for me.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “Eli?”

“Yes.”

“I really need you to touch me now.”

He takes a deep breath, his hands flexing in and out of fists at his sides, his eyes traveling from my eyes to my lips and back again.

“I want you,” I whisper.

He backs me up to the wall, and finally presses his body to mine, takes my face in his hands, and plants his lips on mine, kissing, nibbling, devouring me in the most delicious way. This man can kiss like no one I’ve ever met.

He kisses like it’s his damn job.

His hands skim down my sides as he slides my dress down until it’s magically pooled at my feet, and I’m standing before him in a black strapless bra and black thong.

“Fuck, Kate.”

“Yes, fuck Kate,” I agree with a grin, but when his eyes find mine, they aren’t laughing. “What is it?”

He shakes his head and kisses me again, and his hand dives under the scrap of lace to cup my pussy in his hand.

“This?” He pushes two fingers inside me, and I’m so wet they glide in effortlessly. “This is mine, Kate. Do you understand?”

I nod and bite his lip, and cry out when he presses the flat of his palm against my clit and makes me come, right here, this fast, against the wall. His whiskey eyes are watching as I cry out.

“That’s right, cher. Mine.” He pulls his hand out, lifts me, and carries me up the stairs to the bedroom. Before I know what’s happening, he’s discarded my underwear, stripped out of his own clothes, and joins me on the bed.

Just when I think he’s going to spread my legs and slide inside, he flips me over, presses my legs together, straddles them and slides his cock inside me, with my thighs pressed together and my ass just barely in the air.

And, holy hell if it’s not the best thing ever.

Like, ever.

“Oh, my God,” I groan. I can’t move much with him pressing me into the mattress, holding me down with his body, and in this position, his cock feels even bigger, and hits that amazing spot every single damn time he pushes inside me.

“What are you feeling?” he asks, out of breath.

“You,” I reply.

“More.”

“I can feel the head of your cock pushing on my spot. I can feel your hands on my hips, holding me down. Your legs on my thighs. Oh, yeah, right there.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and slides his hand up my spine and into my hair, then grips my hair at the scalp, so there’s no slack, and pulls.

Hard.

“Shit, yes,” I moan.

“You like to have your hair pulled, Kate?”

“I guess so.”

“You guess?”

“This is new.”

“No one’s ever pulled your hair?”

“Not like this.”

He chuckles and pulls just a touch harder and begins to seriously fuck me. Hard. His hips slap against my ass, and I feel the most amazing orgasm working its way through me.

“Eli!”

“Say it again.”

“Eli. I’m gonna come.”

“Come, baby.” He releases my hair, leans over and bites my neck, near my shoulder, and that’s it. It’s over. I come hard and long, clenching him tightly and crying out.

“Fuck,” he growls and follows me, grinding into me as he comes, then collapses next to me. “Mine.”