Damn it, there I go again. I’ve got a hard-on just thinking about it.

What a mess. I can’t f**k Kate, and I don’t want to f**k anyone else. It’s my own personal Perfect Storm. Told you I’d get what I deserve. Are you happy now?

I turn off the lights in my office and walk over to Kate’s. She doesn’t see me right away, so I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe, just watching her. Her hair’s down, and she’s standing, bent over her desk, looking at her computer. And she’s singing:

No more drinks with the guys

No more hitting on girls

I’d give it all up

And it’d be worth it in the end

If you were my lady

I would comprehend

How it feels to have something real

I would want to be a good man…

She really does have a great voice. And the way she’s bending over her desk like that…I just want to walk up behind her and…Christ. Never mind. I’m just torturing myself.

“Rihanna better watch her back.” She looks up at the sound of my voice, and her face breaks into a wide, embarrassed grin. I request, “Don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show.”

“Very funny. Show’s over.”

I crook my finger at her. “Come on. I’m kicking you out. It’s after eleven on a Friday night, and you haven’t eaten yet. I know a place. My treat. They make a great turkey club.”

Kate turns off her screen and grabs her bag. “Oohh, they’re my favorite.”

“Yeah, I know.”

We grab a table in the bar area and order. The waitress brings our drinks, and Kate takes a sip of the margarita I ordered for her. “Mmm. This is just what I wanted right now.”

I told you I was good at the drink thing—remember? We talk comfortably for a few minutes, and then…watch this.

Kate’s eyes go wide as saucers, and she dives under the table. I look around. What the hell? I duck my head and take a peek at her. “What are you doing?”

She looks panicked. “Billy’s here. Upstairs, in the loft over the dance floor. And he’s not alone.” I start to lift my head when she yells, “Don’t look!”

Jesus Christ—this is ridiculous. So much for being over the dickwit.

“It’s just…I can’t let him see me like this.”

Now I’m confused. “What are you talking about? You look great.” She always looks great.

“No, not in these clothes. He said it wasn’t attractive that I was so driven. It was one of the reasons he wanted to break up. That I…he said I was too…masculine.”

You have got to be f**king kidding me. I’m masculine. Hillary Clinton is masculine. Kate Brooks doesn’t have a goddamn masculine cell in her body. She’s all woman, believe me.

But I know what the f**ker was going for. Kate is intelligent, outspoken, ambitious. Lots of men—like the shit-eating a**hole, for instance—can’t handle a woman like that. So they twist it around. Make those qualities seem unappealing. Something to be ashamed of.

Screw this. I grab Kate’s hand and drag her out from under the table. She looks around quickly as I lead her to the dance floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you back your dignity.”

I bump into several people on the way, making a slight ripple, so I’m sure Douchebag will notice us. “By the time I’m done, Billy Warren will be kissing your feet, your ass, and any other body part you tell him to, to get you back.”

She tries to pull out of my grasp. “No, Drew that’s not really…”

I turn to face her and put my arms around her waist. “Trust me, Kate.” Her body’s close to mine, her face so near I can see the green speckles in her eyes. Why the f**k am I doing this again?

“I’m a guy. I know how we think. No guy wants to see a girl that used to be his with someone else. Just go with me on this.”

She doesn’t answer. She just raises her arms around my neck, bringing us together—chest to chest, stomach to stomach, thigh to thigh.

It’s agony. Exquisite, delicious agony.

With a mind of its own, my thumb draws slow circles on her lower back. The music swirls around us, and I feel buzzed—not from the drinks, but from the feel of her. I want to ignore the perfect way her body fits against mine. I try to remember my noble intentions. I should glance up to see if Dirtbag is watching us. I should, but I don’t. I’m too caught up in the way she’s looking at me.

Maybe I’m deluding myself, but I swear it’s desire I see swimming in those dark beauties. Naked, uninhibited want. I lean in and brush my nose against hers, testing the waters.

I’m not doing this for me. Really. I’m not doing this because being this near to her is the closest to heaven that I’ll ever get.

This is for her. Part of the plan. To win back the scumbag who doesn’t deserve her.

I press my lips against hers softly. It’s tender at first, and then she melts against me. That’s when I start to lose it. She opens her mouth, and I slide my tongue in slowly. Then harder, firmer, more intense, like the downhill swoop of a rollercoaster.

I forgot how good she tastes. More decadent than the richest chocolate. Sinful. It’s different from the other times we’ve kissed. Better. There’s no anger behind it, no frustration or guilt or a point to prove. It’s unhurried, languid, and f**king sublime.

Our lips separate, and I force myself to look up, catching Warren’s devastated glare before he disappears into the crowd. I turn back to Kate and touch my forehead to hers. Our breaths mingle—mine panting, hers gasping slightly.

“It worked,” I tell her.

“What?”

I feel her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. And when she speaks, her voice is breathy. Needy. “Drew…could you? Drew…do you want…?”

“Anything, Kate. Ask me anything and I’ll do it.”

Her lips part, and she stares at me a moment. “Would you…kiss me again?”

Thank. You. God.

And as for you, Jiminy? Piss off.

Chapter 13

THE RIDE TO MY APARTMENT is an exercise in stunt driving. Trying desperately to keep my mouth on Kate and not get us killed. She sits on my lap straddling my waist, kissing my neck, tonguing my ear—driving me out of my frigging mind. I’ve got one hand on the steering wheel and the other wedged between us, gliding over her stomach, her neck, and those perfect br**sts that tease me through her half-open shirt.

Do not try this at home, kids.

Her skirt bunches high on her thighs as she grinds herself on my straining cock. She’s so damn hot against me, I have to use every ounce of will not to let my eyes roll back into my head. I kiss her hard and watch the road over her shoulder. She slides up and down, jerking me off slowly with the pressure. Fucking Christ, dry humping never felt so good.

Control? Restraint? They went bye-bye a long time ago.

Finally, I pull into the parking garage of my building. I grab the first spot I see and drag us out of the car. My hands on her ass, her legs locked around my waist, I carry Kate to the elevator, our lips and tongues dancing furiously.

I didn’t lock my car. I don’t think I even closed the door.

Fuck it.

They can steal it. I have more important matters at hand.

I stumble into the elevator and push the button for the top floor before slamming Kate back against the wall and thrusting against her like I’ve been dying to do. She moans long and deep into my mouth. It’s like that scene out of Fatal Attraction, without the creepiness.

Making it to my door, I grope for the lock with one hand still holding Kate against me. She nibbles on my ear and whispers, “Hurry, Drew.”

I would have kicked the f**king thing open at this point if the key wasn’t already turning. We fall into my apartment, and I kick the door shut with my foot. I peel her legs off me, and her feet slide to the floor, creating a delicious friction along the way. I need my hands free.

With our mouths still joined, I start unbuttoning the rest of her blouse. Kate is not so skilled—or she’s just impatient. She digs her fingers into the front of my shirt and pulls. Buttons scatter on the floor.

She just ripped my shirt open.

How hot is that?

I get to the clasp on her bra and pop it open. I’m an expert at those things. Whoever invented the front-clasp bra? God bless you.

Kate pulls her lips away and smooths her palms over my chest and down my abs. Her eyes are filled with wonder as they follow her hands’ path. I watch as my own fingers skim across her collarbone, down the center of her flawless br**sts, and over that valley I love before coming to rest at her waist.

“God, Drew. You’re so…”

“Beautiful.” I finish for her.

I pull her up against me again, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her feet off the floor as I back up toward the couch. Did I think dancing with her was heaven? No. Her bare chest against mine—that is what heaven feels like. Fucking paradise.

I kiss down her jaw and suck at the tender flesh of her neck. I love Kate’s neck—and by the sounds vibrating in her throat, she loves what I’m doing. I sit back on the couch, taking her with me with her torso resting against mine, her closed legs between my spread knees. She pulls my lips back to hers for one more kiss before standing up and backing away.

We’re both out of breath and staring, practically attacking each other with our eyes. She bites her lip, and her hands disappear behind her back. I hear the hiss of a zipper, and then her skirt is slowly sliding to the floor. It’s the sexiest goddamn thing I have ever seen.

Kate stands in front of me in black lace boy-short panties, an open white blouse, and high heels. Her lips are swollen, her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is tousled from my hands. She’s a goddess…f**king divine. And the way she’s looking at me almost has me coming right here and now. I reach for my wallet and pull the condom out, resting it on the cushion next to me.

Kate walks toward me…leaving her high heels on.

Christ Jesus.

She kneels between my legs and unbuttons my pants, keeping her blazing eyes locked on mine. I lift up, and she peels my pants and boxers off. My c*ck springs up, proud and hard and so f**king ready. Her eyes go down, and she looks me over. I let her get her fill; I’m not really the shy type.

But when a devilish smile comes to her lips and she leans toward my dick, I grab her and pull her back to my mouth. I don’t know what she was planning—well, I have an idea—but if I don’t get inside her soon, I think I’m actually going to die.

I lift her at the waist, and her knees rest on either side of me. I hold her up with one hand while the other pushes the lace between her legs to the side. I dip two fingers inside her. Jesus. She’s ready too. I slide my fingers all the way in, and we both moan loudly. She’s wet…and hot. She molds snugly around my fingers, and my eyes close, knowing just how incredible she’ll feel around my cock. I pump my fingers in and out, and she starts riding my hand. She’s whimpering…moaning…gasping my name.

Music to my frigging ears.