“In case I forget, you should know I had a great time,” I tell him as he backs out of the parking space, and looks over at me.

“Me too.” He reaches for my hand, and once he has it in his grasp, he kisses my fingertips then locks our hands together. He rests them on his hard thigh, keeping hold of me as he drives us across town.

When we reach my place, my nervousness once again kicks in as the energy between us zaps with an undercurrent of heat, making my skin tingle and my heart pound. Without a word, he gets out and comes around to help me down, and after my feet are firmly on solid ground, we walk hand in hand to my apartment. As soon as I have the door open, the heat between us is ignited, and whatever has been keeping us both in check is forgotten.

I’m not sure who kisses who first, but I memorize his taste as his tongue thrusts between my lips and moan as he slides his hands down my body then back up to slowly peel my dress off over my head. I help him out of his shirt with fumbling fingers, and when he’s free of the garment and it’s discarded on the floor with my dress, my palms skate across his warm, muscular skin. We stumble toward my bedroom, devouring each other at a frenzied pace, touching, nipping, gripping anything we can get our hands or mouths on.

When my back hits my bed and his warm body settles over mine, I whisper his name, and he kisses me before moving his warm mouth down the column of my throat to my breast. I arch into him and whimper when I feel the fabric of my lace bra between his warm, wet mouth and my skin. Reading my distress, he slides the material down then captures my nipple between his teeth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. I almost come from the contact and dig my nails into his back.

When he pulls away, we’re both panting with need and the desire between us is saturating the air. “Ember.” The look in his gaze is questioning.

“Gareth.” I raise my hips and wrap my legs around his waist in answer.

“Jesus.” He grinds his cock against my still covered pussy, and I shiver in need.

“Please don’t make me beg.” I dig my nails into his skin, and he slides his hands down my hips, dragging my panties off. The moment the material is gone his fingers slide over my clit, my inner muscles spasm.

“You never have to beg with me.” He kisses me once more then the sound of a condom being torn open rips through the silence, and seconds later, he fills me in one smooth stroke. I cry out in pain and pleasure. He’s huge, wide and long, and I feel every single inch of him branding my insides, making them his own. When he pulls back with just the tip of his cock resting against me, I lift my head and capture his lips while using the heels of my feet to bring him back into me. Every part of us is in sync as he fucks me into oblivion, and when I start to come, I know he’s capable of touching a piece of me I didn’t even know existed until him. “Oh, God.”

“Jesus. Give it to me. Let go,” he growls, thrusting harder and faster.

“Gareth,” I hiss his name, not sure I’m capable of handling what I feel coming.

“Let go, Ember. I’ve got you.” He moves his thumb to my clit, and that’s all it takes. My mind blanks and I feel nothing but the piercing pleasure of my orgasm as it radiates from my inner core outward to each cell in my body, lighting me up. As I let go, I disappear over the edge, panting for breath with my eyes closed, not wanting to miss out on one second of what I’m experiencing. “Fucking Christ, you’re perfection,” he rumbles, smoothing my hair away from my damp face. “I’m close, baby.”

I force my eyes open and stare up at him, mesmerized by how feral he looks with his head back and jaw tight. I lift my fingers to the side of his neck and his eyes open. The moment his focus is on me, I lift my head. “You’re beautiful.”

“Fuck,” he groans, tipping his head down to take my mouth in a kiss that leaves me shattered. His muscles bunch under my hands, his fingers dig into my flesh in a way that I know I’ll have bruises, and he growls down my throat as he comes. When he drags his mouth from mine, I gasp for air, and he tucks his face into the crook of my neck then rolls to his back, keeping me wrapped in his arms and holding our connection.

Exhausted, I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to the sound of his heart beating hard against my ear as his fingers begin to slide up and down my back.

“You going to sleep?” I hear and feel him ask, and I nod my cheek up and down against his skin. “Fuck, I hate that I can’t stay and sleep with you just like this.”

My stomach rolls as real life pops my euphoric bubble. How could I forget? How did I forget he’s not just a normal guy who can stay out all night without having plans in place to do so? How did I not remember he has two boys at home that he needs to get back to?

“It’s okay.” I start to lift up to move off him, but his arms tighten around me, holding me prisoner.

“I didn’t say I gotta go right now. I just hate I gotta go at all,” he says gently, gripping my chin to get my attention.

But I keep my eyes averted, not wanting him to see exactly how I feel about him having to leave. “I understand.”

“Yeah, then look at me.” I do, and when I see the torn look in his gaze, my chest grows tight. “I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to.” He slides a piece of hair behind my ear and shakes his head. “I’m a package deal, baby. If you get into this with me, you gotta know I come with two boys who are a priority.”

“I know you come with kids,” I whisper. “If I wasn’t okay with that, I wouldn’t have gone out with you tonight. I know you can’t sleep over and that you need to get home to them.”

“Yeah, but we have time before I gotta do that.” He lifts his head and looks around then frowns. “Where is your clock?”

“On my phone?”

“You don’t have an alarm clock?”

“I do; it’s also on my phone.” I smile.

“Smart ass.” He rolls me to my back and I lose my connection with him, which makes me mewl in disappointment. “You’ll get me back.” He smiles smugly, touching his mouth to mine. “Do you know where my pants are?”

“On the floor somewhere.”

He smiles then leans over me, crushing me to the mattress with his weight as he reaches down over the side of my bed. A moment later, he comes up with his pants and reaches into the pocket. Once he retrieves his phone, he clicks on the screen and I see it’s just after nine.

“Two hours.”

“What?” I struggle for breath, and he leans back, grinning at me, and then gathers me against his chest. He rolls us once more so I’m straddling his hips.

“After I get rid of this condom we have about two hours to do that again.”

“Oh,” I whisper, enchanted by his words, our new position, and the feel of him under me.

“Oh yeah.” He tangles his hand in my hair at the nape of my neck and drags my mouth down to his. For the next two hours, we don’t waste a moment talking. We spend each second exploring each other in the best possible ways, and when he kisses me goodnight at my door, I’m pretty sure I just had the best first date in the history of first dates.

Eight

December

I PULL OPEN the door to Jones’s, a small restaurant that is nestled between other businesses on Main Street, and am immediately bombarded by the chatter of talking patrons and the scent of breakfast foods coming from the open kitchen. I scan the small space and find my sisters along with my mom all seated in a booth near the window, drinking coffee and waiting for me to arrive.