But Mace and I stil needed to talk and we were going to do it.

I jumped out of the shower, toweled down, wrapped the towel around my hair, put on my robe and hightailed it out of the bathroom just as I heard Juno and Mace return.

Mace was activating the alarm when I left the bathroom. I ignored him and moved quickly toward my dresser, seeing to priorities (as in, getting dressed). I had a pair of sky-blue lace hipsters in my hand when I heard him approach. I was about to bend over and put them on when I saw his hand come around me, he snatched the panties from my fingers and tossed them on my chair.

I whirled around. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t need to ask. I knew what he was doing.

He grinned, his hand coming up to yank the towel from my hair.

I planted my hands on my h*ps and tossed my head to get my hair out of my face as he threw the towel in the direction of my panties.

“Mace, what are you doing?” I repeated.

“Gonna f**k you, babe.”

Oh dear.

He had that look about him, that look I liked, that look that turned me on.

That look that said he was, indeed, gonna f**k me.

Nope.

Unh-unh.

No way.

I stood my ground, hands on hips.

“No, you’re not. We have to talk. We have a lot of talking to do and we’re going to do it. Now.”

Mace moved around me and I had to pivot to stay facing him.

Suddenly, he stopped and then started walking forward.

As I was in front of him, I had no choice but to walk back.

I put a hand to his chest. “Stop. Listen to me –” He didn’t stop and he was clearly not listening to me.

His hands came to my waist right before I would have fal en down the stairs. He lifted me and I was forced to throw my arms around his shoulders.

“Seriously, Mace. This isn’t gonna happen. I’m too tired and we have a lot to talk about. We need to talk about it.”

“Seriously, Kitten, this is gonna happen. We can talk later,” he returned and put me on my feet beside the bed.

I did the hands on h*ps thing again.

“You’re beginning to piss me off,” I informed him.

He put a hand in my bel y and gave me a shove, gentle enough not to be rough, rough enough to send me flying.

I bounced on the bed and tried to whirl but he got hold of my ankles and twisted me back. Then he pul ed my legs wide and came down on top of me, his h*ps sliding between my legs, his jeans rubbing against the insides of my thighs.

I had to admit, I liked that.

Like, a lot.

“Mace!” I shouted.

His mouth came to my neck as his hands started moving on my body. They felt nice, warm and strong.

Effing hel !

“You gonna yel through this or what?” he asked my neck.

“Yes,” I snapped.

“That’l be new,” he muttered and then I felt his tongue behind my ear.

That felt nice too.

Hello? Inner Mace Slut? Take a hike! We have talking to do, we have to get our head together, we have to get our life back into our control, my brain reminded me.

I turned my head to disengage Mace’s mouth from my neck.

“Honestly, Mace –” I started to say but he lifted his head and looked in my eyes as his fingers slid into the wet hair on either side of my face.

I saw his eyes were alert, energized, aroused.

It was then I knew he was gonna f**k me.

I knew this because I wanted him to f**k me.

Like, a lot.

Oh screw it.

* * * * *

Just for your information, I wil mention that I could swear he looked like he was about ready to laugh right before I lifted my head to kiss him.

* * * * *

“Babe.” When I heard Mace’s voice, I opened my eyes and stared at the wal . It was light outside and I suspected it was late morning.

I felt delicious, cozy and relaxed. I could feel Mace’s hard I felt delicious, cozy and relaxed. I could feel Mace’s hard body behind me, his arm around my waist, his face in my hair.

I loved waking up to a bed warm with Mace. It was one of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand things I missed about him.

Shitsofuckit!

I’d done it again. I’d had sex with Mace. I’d let him spend the night with me. I’d even let him (mostly) move in with me!

What was I doing?

Mace’s arm tightened and his body got closer.

“Stel a, wake up.” I felt his deep voice rumble against the back of my neck making goose bumps rise along my skin.

“I’m awake,” I told him.

His arm tightened further, wrapping around my bel y and he kissed my neck.

“It’s late. Sorry to wake you up but I got shit to do.” I thought this was good. Mace having shit to do meant I’d have time to think, to plan, to get my head together.

“Okay,” I replied.

He nuzzled my hair with his nose but other than that, he didn’t move.

When his not moving lasted more than a few seconds, I cal ed, “Erm, Mace?”

“Yeah?”

“You have shit to do,” I reminded him.

“Yeah,” he answered but stil didn’t move.

“Wel , are you gonna do it?” I asked.

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

Oh, right.

Oh, right.

I wanted to talk.

This was true, I wanted to talk.

And something about him reminding me I wanted to talk and giving me that opportunity even though he had “shit to do” made me feel even cozier and more relaxed.

However, in the cold light of day but waking up in bed with warm Mace, I forgot what I wanted to talk about.

I searched my foggy brain for clues as to what I wanted to talk about when Mace’s arm moved, his hand splayed on my midriff, his body slid away and he pushed me to my back.

He leaned in, the front of his body pressed against my side; he got up on his elbow and looked down at me. His green eyes were warm and alert and I remembered again how much I liked the look of Mace first thing in the morning.

As I looked into his eyes, my brain stil foggy, stil feeling cozy and relaxed, my thoughts on Mace’s eyes (then they careened off in the direction of about seven thousand of the seven hundred twenty-five thousand other things about Mace I liked), he looked into mine. This lasted for a beat that turned into two then three then his mouth moved and he looked like he was fighting a smile.

“Kitten, I don’t have al day,” he told me and my head jerked, pul ing me out of my Mace Happy Thoughts Reverie.