Her orgasm ripped through every fiber of her. And Trevor held her even while she bucked against him, her nails digging into his arms. It was like an out-of-body experience, like she was flying and she never wanted it to stop.

It took a while for her to settle. When she did, Trevor was right there, watching her, smiling at her, his desire not waned in the least. In fact, the passionate fury in his eyes was even deeper than it had been before.

One orgasm, she’d thought. All she thought she’d needed was one. But it turned out, just seeing the need in his eyes refueled her own. And when he pulled his fingers from her and licked them, her lips parted in surprise, her body clenching in anxious desire.

She sat up and wrapped her hand around the nape of his neck, drawing his mouth to hers for a hot, lengthy kiss that nearly swamped her senses. Trevor’s answering groan and the way he swept her away with his hands and his mouth made her realize she’d have to steel her defenses.

Staying emotionally distant from him was going to be difficult. He had a way of taking her under, of making her want him beyond just the physical. He was caring and generous, and as he spread her legs and shifted down to put his mouth on her sex, she threw her hands over her eyes, trying to shut out everything but the way his mouth felt on her pussy, and the way he took her right to the edge again with his lips, his teeth, and his tongue, owning her body instantly in a way no man ever had.

He was relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure, consuming her. She was drowning in every flick of his tongue, every suck of his lips over her clit.

And as she came again, this time crying out in surprise because it happened so damn fast, she grabbed hold of his hair, almost angry with him because he’d possessed her so thoroughly.

She hadn’t expected to feel this overwhelmed. She both loved and hated it and didn’t know what to do with all these damn feelings.

He came up and kissed her again, and she tasted herself on his lips. And this time, she couldn’t fight the emotional response, the hiccup of tears that she pushed back when he wrapped his arms around her and groaned. Because she realized he needed her tonight as much as she needed him.

No. Not emotional. This was just physical. Just a pure, delightful, physical response to two people who enjoyed being together.

And that was how she was going to rationalize getting through this night. Because otherwise she’d never make it. Not with Trevor.

“You okay so far?” he asked, kissing the side of her neck, making those damn goose bumps skitter across her skin again.

She wanted to think she was done with him, that she was satiated and she’d go through the motions to get him off. But she wasn’t. His c**k lay hard and heavy against her thigh, and all she could think about was getting him inside her, of coming again. And again.

Taking the risk, she met his gaze, losing herself in the green depths of his eyes. “More than okay. I need you inside me.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He was gone only a few seconds. She waited for clarity, for some kind of reasonable logic to enter her head.

She found none, only a ridiculous feeling of loss now that he was gone. She shook it off when he returned with a box of condoms and a silly, boyish look on his face.

“Not sure how many of these we’d need tonight.”

She leaned back and spread her legs. “Maybe the whole damn box. Let’s get started.”

FIFTEEN

TREVOR HAD NEVER BEEN WITH A WOMAN AS RESPONSIVE as Haven. Her taste, her scent, the way she moved and unraveled for him, was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

The women he’d been with before were practiced. Almost too damn perfect. It wasn’t something he could put a finger on, but it was like they were trying to meet his expectations.

Where was the fun in that?

Haven reached for her own pleasure, and God, he couldn’t get enough of it—of her.

And now she’d opened the box of condoms and held one between her fingers as she scooted up on the bed and spread her legs. An invitation. She looked beautiful sitting there, expecting him, waiting for him. He wasn’t about to ignore her summons. He was hard, aching, his balls heavy with come.

He climbed onto the bed and took the packet from her hand. He applied the condom, acutely aware of the way she watched his every movement. He kneeled between her legs and slid his fingers into her hair, capturing her lips for a kiss. She grasped his arms and held him there, and when he slid his tongue in her mouth, she sucked.

His balls tightened, his c**k lurching toward her like some kind of goddamned divining rod. It knew where it was supposed to be. Her room was thick with the smell of sex—a sweet, musky perfume that made him eager to bury himself inside her and see if she was as sweet and as hot as he’d been imagining.

He moved back and grasped her ankles, then pulled her down the bed, cupping her ankles, sliding his hands over the softness of her flesh as he mapped his fingers over her legs.

And still, she watched him. He didn’t mind, loved looking at the darkening color of her eyes, seeing the deepening passion there. He swept his hand over her sex. She was wet, quivering, ready for him.

Yeah, he was ready, too.

He placed the tip of his c**k at the entrance to her pussy, eased the first inch in, watching her as he lifted one of her legs and bent her knee to widen her for his entry.

Her breathing quickened as he pushed in. She was slick, her pu**y hot as he slid home.

“Yes, Trevor,” she whispered, then wrapped her legs around him and brought him all the way in.

He looked at her, the rapture on her face, and then stilled to experience the way she surrounded him. Tight, hot, squeezing his c**k and pulsing around him. He had to take a few seconds to breathe in and out, to center himself, because all he wanted to do was let go, to release everything he’d held inside for the past few hours.

But then she reached for his face, tracing her fingertips over the scar above his right eyebrow. It seemed so incongruous to the heat and sexuality that beat between them. He calmed, took a deep breath, and moved within her.

“Damn, Trevor, you’re big,” she said.

Not the first time he’d heard that. He held his torso off her with the palms of his hands and looked down at her. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No. Don’t stop. If you stop I swear to God I’ll kill you.”

He smiled at her. “Okay, then. You let me know what works for you.”

“No problem there. You f**king me is working for me right now. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Again, she gave commands, and he was happy to comply. “I like being inside you, Haven. I like it a lot.” He cupped her butt and lifted her hips, then drove in deeper. She gasped, and raked her nails along his forearms.

“Yeah, I like that, too. Do it again.”

He did, sliding in, then pulling out, only to ease back in, this time with a little more force. And when he did, he ground against her, making sure to give her cl*tplenty of attention.

Haven arched her back and widened her legs. “Oh, yes. Like that. A lot more like that. It feels so good.”

He loved the sound of her voice when she was lost in the throes of passion. She dropped an octave and added some gravel to her voice. And since she’d tilted her head back, she gave him an opportunity to lick her neck.

“Oh, my God, Trevor. You keep doing that while you’re f**king me, you’re going to make me come again.” This time, her voice begged, and he knew it wasn’t a complaint.

“I like the way you taste, Haven,” he whispered against her neck. “All over. I like your skin, the way you breathe, and I especially like the way you move when I’m inside you. You make me want to come hard.”

She lifted her head and met his gaze, her eyes glazed with passion. “Yes. I want that. I need you to come. I need you to feel what I’ve felt. It’s so good.”

And then there were no words because he was lost in her depths, and now it was his turn to do nothing but feel. He knew he could get her there, but as he powered into her with a thrust, she tightened around him and, oh, man, the sounds of her moans and whimpers as she came just wrecked him. That was the end for him, because all he wanted was to let go.

When he released, it was like he’d been catapulted from his own skin. He grabbed hold of Haven and thrust deeply into her when he came. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he shuddered through an epic cl**ax that left him sweating and shaking, glad he had Haven to hold on to as a lifeline.

His breaths sawed in and out. He took a few more, catching his breath, swiping his hands over her face. She looked up at him, her eyes clear as she smiled at him. He bent and brushed his lips over hers, getting lost in the way she tasted, rolling over and bringing her with him, liking that they were still so intimately connected.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to let her go. But he did, pulling her out of the bed with him so they could go into her bathroom and clean up a bit. He glanced at her in the mirror. She looked tired, so he climbed into bed with her and she laid her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and she was out within minutes.

He lay there listening to her breathe, enjoying the feel of her body snuggled up next to his.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and drifted off.

SIXTEEN

HAVEN WALKED THE STERILE WHITE CORRIDORS, knowing what waited for her in that room. She dreaded it, but knew she had to go there, to be with her dad.

He needed her, and she’d endure anything just to be there for him. There wasn’t much time left.

She took a deep, stabilizing breath and entered the room.

It was empty. She looked all around, but she couldn’t find him. “Dad?” She called out, but he didn’t answer.

She hurried out of the room, running as fast as she could, but it was like running in mud. Her legs weren’t working right.

“Dad? Where are you? I can’t find you.”

Haven.

She heard his voice calling her name and ran to the sound. But still, she could barely move, let alone run.

Haven.

His voice grew more faint. She struggled, forcing her legs and feet to push harder. This was so damn frustrating. She had to get to him before it was too late.

“I’m coming, Dad. I’m trying to find you. Where are you?”

She felt the wetness of tears roll down her face, knew she wasn’t going to reach him in time.

Suddenly, there he was, at the end of the hall. So close, and yet an ocean’s distance away, because as she looked at him, so frail, so thin as he reached his arms out for her, she could already see he was disappearing.

“No, Dad, no. Please don’t go.”

She let out a gasping sob, trying to reach him as he held his arms out.

Haven. I have to go.

“Daddy, no. Please don’t leave me.”

But it was too late. He was gone.

She dropped to the ground and released the wall of tears.

“Haven. Haven, wake up.”

She shot up in bed, still crying, and turned her face into Trevor’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around someone solid, someone real.

“Shh, it’s okay, honey.”

She couldn’t even form words right then because the dream had been so vivid to her, the ache of losing her father all over again hurting so badly it made her throat close up, made her heart hurt.

Trevor didn’t even ask, just stroked her back and murmured words of comfort as he held tight to her until she cried out the anguish of loss. When the gasping sobs subsided and she had nothing left, he reached over on the nightstand and handed her a box of tissues. She blew her nose and dried her eyes.

And then he held her, not speaking until her breathing returned to normal.

She couldn’t talk about it. She hoped to God he wouldn’t ask.

Trevor pulled back, his face etched with concern. “I’m going to get you a drink. I’ll be right back. Are you going to be okay?”

She nodded.

He slid out of bed and left the bedroom, giving her a few minutes to dash into the bathroom. She flipped on the light, splashed water on her face, blew her nose a few more times, then finally looked up.

God, she looked like she’d been on an all-night bender. Her eyes were tear-stained and swollen, her nose all red, and she looked—awful. How embarrassing to have that nightmare after she and Trevor had just had a fun night together.

She should have known better than to get involved with someone. She just wasn’t ready yet. She’d opened up the emotional floodgates and look what happened.

She went back into the bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats and a tank top, then crawled on top of the covers.

Trevor came back in, still gloriously, beautifully na**d. For a second, she thought about changing her mind, but refused to waver. She was making the right choice.

The only choice.

“Here, drink this.”

“Thanks.” She was ridiculously dehydrated after all that crying, so she took a few deep swallows, then set the glass aside. “I’m fine now. And actually really wiped.”

He started to climb into bed with her, but she stood. “I think I’d sleep better alone.”

He arched a brow. “I thought maybe you’d want to talk about your nightmare.”

She let out a short laugh. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about. I’d rather forget it, and get some sleep. And you probably should, too. Like, in your own bed.”

He didn’t move, just sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong, Haven?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to be alone.”

“Something about that dream freaked you out. You should talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go back to sleep. And honestly, I’m not much for bedmates. Don’t take it personally.”