Looking down at the clover I’ve worn for the past six years, I can’t help thinking . . . why tell him? What’s done is done; there’s no undoing it.

My nose starts to twitch, tearing me from all my thoughts as I catch the faint smell of sizzling bacon in the air. I sniff again, thinking about my empty refrigerator. Ambling out of bed, I make a quick stop in the bathroom before I patter down the hall in search of him and the delicious smell. My heart leaps at the sight in the kitchen—Ben, messy blond hair, muscled, skin tanned, barefoot, standing at my stove in front of a frying pan. With a fluttering stomach, I lick my lips wanting to just taste him. He looks nothing short of edible in his white shirt and faded jeans that hug him just right. His pants are hung low, frayed at the hem just like his shirt. He is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen. He has always been.

I watch as he flips the slices before him and remember the last time we spent the night together—and how it ended. I blink that sad thought away. And again needing to make sure this is real—I step closer.

“S’belle, you’re awake.” He grins while dropping a piece of bacon onto a plate.

My pulse races. Those two syllables that I’ve longed to hear from his lips for so long and suddenly any doubts I had are gone—I know I’m ready to take this leap with him. I lean against the kitchen doorway and I smile. “Good morning. You went shopping?”

He laughs. “I picked a few things up while I was at the store last night. I noticed you were a little on the empty side.” He points to the fridge.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten the living on my own thing down yet,” I respond, but really I have; I just hate it.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” I answer. My voice is low and seductive.

He turns. “Good. It’s almost done. How’s the sunburn?” he asks, sweeping the length of me with his eyes as he cracks an egg into a bowl.

I raise my arms in a catlike stretch, making sure to pull my hair up off my shoulders so it tumbles down when I let it go. Then I run my hands down my body.

His eyes flicker over me.

“It’s much, much better,” I purr.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

I nod and smile, slow and sweet.

The most devilish grin forms on his lips and he quickly tosses the eggshell into the sink. Then he turns the stove off and transfers the pan to the burner beside it.

“Come here,” he demands, then adds, “Now.”

Not only do his words and his smile send tingles to every nerve in my body, but the sound of his voice and the anticipation of what’s to come make me quiver with need. I saunter into the kitchen in my best attempt to be as seductive as he is. And it works, because in a heartbeat he grabs me and pushes me up against the counter. His hands cup the back of my neck and he pulls me to him. Heat and his hardness assault me immediately. Just the feel of his lips on mine sweeps me away—lust and need the only things I can think about, the only things left in the room. I fall into his kiss, whimpering at the way his tongue presses against mine, the way it searches my mouth, demanding all of me. The kiss is warm, deep, and desire floods me in a mad rush.

Leaving me breathless, he pulls back and studies my face. His fingers move to gently stroke my shoulders beneath the straps of my tank top. “Does this hurt?” He dips his head to kiss my shoulder.

I shake my head no because I can’t speak. The feel of his skin on mine causes my breath to catch in my throat and I’m rendered speechless.

“Good.” He peppers light, soft kisses up my neck and back down.

I toss my head back.

He pushes my straps farther down and his dips even lower.

“This?” he asks as his lips touch my nipple and circle it while his hand cups the other one.

“N . . . n . . . no,” I stammer.

He licks and sucks one nipple while he rolls the other between his thumb and finger.

I press my hips forward. “Oh God, Ben.”

I can feel his lips tilt up into a smile. He looks up at me from underneath his lashes. “You like that?”

I feel my legs start to tremble from just the look he’s giving me.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“You know I do,” I pant.

Both of us are breathing loudly and I’m not sure whose breath is whose anymore. His grin grows wide as he drags his hot mouth up my chest to my jaw. He nips my lower lip with his teeth and presses his very erect penis against me. I whimper at the contact.

“You want this.” His voice is husky.

“Yes,” I say more quickly and more clearly than I have answered any of his questions since coming into the kitchen.

He groans, almost roars in response. In a beat he lifts me and sets me on the counter. His palms press down on either side of me and I feel his closeness even with the small distance between us.

I stare at him, drinking in the sight—hooded lids, parted lips, chest rising and falling.

His deep blue eyes sweep me. “You know I think you’re hot as f**k.”

I love his dirty mouth and his commanding tone. His forcefulness turns me on so much. I’ve never been with a guy like him. Something about him makes me want to give myself over to him in any way he wants. I want to be anything he desires, everything he needs—I want to be his dream girl.

I lean forward and begin to undo his buttons. “I think the same thing about you. Yesterday after I left the beach, all I could think about was your c**k inside me. I might have had at least three mini orgasms at the thought.”