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“Is that a no?”

Her clit swelled beneath my fingertips, her pussy dripped onto my fingers. “You can demand an apology, but you won’t accept it?”


“Yes to you accepting my apology or yes to you not accepting it?”

“Ohhh...Oh goddd...”

“Answer me.” I tugged her hair and suddenly felt her pussy clenching my cock. “Is my sorry not good enough, Gillian?”

“I...” She shut her eyes as her body shook against mine.

“Yes...Yes!” She screamed one last time and fell forward.

Coming right after her, I held her sides so she wouldn’t hit the bench face first. Our breathing was heavy and in sync, and I waited until it was somewhat normal before pulling out of her.

I positioned her so she was sitting up and against the wall, and then the both of us sat still—the warm shower water still lashing against our skin.

After several minutes, she turned to look at me, her sexy green eyes meeting mine. “I missed using this shower.”

I smiled, holding back a laugh and stood up. I turned off the water and grabbed her hand, pulling her up and leading her into my bedroom.

“Here.” I handed her a towel and wrapped another around my waist.

I walked into my closet and pulled out the bottom dresser drawer where I’d tossed more of the random things I’d found hidden around my place since she first left. I grabbed a pair of black leggings, an oversized Boston U. T-shirt, and a pair of panties. And for some reason, I left her other clothing items inside and closed the drawer.

I returned to the bedroom and sat down next to her, handing her the clothes.

“Thank you,” she said softly, looking surprised. “Where did you find these?”

“Where they didn’t belong.” I put on a pair of black sweatpants. “But you’re welcome.”

She looked at me as she put on her clothes, giving me that strange look she often gave when we finished having sex.

“Did I hurt you?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “I would’ve told you in the shower.”

“I meant at the gala. Did I grab your arm from behind the way you did to me here?”

“No.” She shook her head.

I sighed, hesitating. “I am sorry, actually.”

“For talking to me the way that you did?”

“For doing it publicly.”


“Yes,” I said, taking her hands and helping her stand up. “I’m sorry for talking to you that way.”

“So, it won’t happen again?”

“Not unless you feel the need to talk to my brother again.”

“I won’t...” She bit her lip. “Were you adopted? Is Evan your stepbrother?”

“This conversation can’t happen,” I said. “Drop it.”

“Evan never mentioned a brother when I interviewed him at my newspaper years ago. I’m just asking.”

“Gillian, if you and me are going to work—” I tried to keep my voice calm. “If whatever the hell this is is going to work, I mean, I need you to drop this and never bring it up again. It has nothing to do with whatever the hell we’re doing.”

She smiled a sarcastic smile. “Are you saying you’re now open to more since you do enjoy talking to me? That you could see yourself falling in love with me?”

“This is hardly love.”

“Then it’s hardly lust.”

“Then we’ll just call it us.” I rolled my eyes and led her into the guest bedroom, picking up her clutch on the way and handing it to her. Hitting the lights, I walked her over to the bed and pulled back the sheets. “You can sleep here tonight. I’ll have you taken home in the morning.”

“Thank you.” She climbed into the bed, looking sexier than ever.

“How did you get here tonight?” I asked.

“My roommate dropped me off.”

“You’re lying.” I saw it in her eyes. “How did you really get here?”

“I took the bus.”

“Were there no cabs or Uber drivers available?”

“Yes, but some of us weren’t born rich, so we have to wait until pay day to have access to our money.”

“I wasn’t born rich,” I said, roughly fluffing the pillow behind her head. “Next time you’re that angry, just get a cab. I’ll pay for it.”

She looked stunned. “Is that open invitation to stay at your place whenever I need to?”

“I think you’ve stayed in my place more than enough.” I slipped my hands beneath her thighs and pulled her closer to me. “But fuck no, that’s not an invitation to stay here at all. Outside of tonight, I can guarantee you’ll never spend the night here again.”

“Too worried you’ll catch feelings for me?”

“Too worried you’ll think I’m catching feelings for you.” I trailed her lips with my finger. “I’m not, Gillian, but I do enjoy talking to you. Sometimes.”

She let out a soft breath and started talking again—launching into one of those long monologues, slowly turning me on with each and every word that fell from her puffy pink lips.

This time, when she finally finished, I just stared at her. Then I realized I needed to end this conversation right now before we had sex again, before I failed to get enough sleep for my flight tomorrow night.