“I guess we can do that. If we have to.” He’s pretty much pouting.

I laugh. “I think it would be a bit more logical than me moving back in with you.”

“How long do you have the apartment? Not a year?” The furrow is back.

“Only two months.”

“How much is it costing you?”

“It’s affordable.”

His fingers trail up and down the back of my arm. “Okay. So in two months you can move back into the condo, and if I have to go away you’ll stay and take care of Francesca and Tiny? And we can have a minimum of three sleepovers a week while we’re doing this dating thing.”

“You sound like you’re negotiating a business arrangement.”

“I’m negotiating your girlfriend status and regular sex.” Now his hand is on my waist, moving around to my lower back.

“Regular, mind-blowing sex,” I correct.

“It really is that fucking amazing, isn’t it?” His palm curves around my right butt cheek.

“It is,” I breathe.

“We should do it again. Right now. Especially since we’re dating and all.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

It takes all of a half a second before Bancroft’s mouth is on mine. The kiss is explosive. I fight to unbutton his suit jacket and loosen his tie while his tongue strokes my mouth.

Getting me naked is a matter of pulling my tank over my head and yanking my shorts down my legs. Bancroft runs his hands from my ankles, up the outside of my legs all the way to my ribs, then cups my breasts and goes in for another kiss.

“You don’t think Amalie will come back here tonight?” he asks.

“Not likely. It’s the weekend—she’ll stay at Armstrong’s tonight, especially if she knows you’re here.”

“Excellent. That’s what I hoped.”

I continue popping buttons as I lead Bancroft to the bedroom. I hesitate for a second when I push open the door. It’s not my bed. The sheets are fresh, though. I changed them this morning.

“Maybe we should have sex on the floor.” I unclasp the buckle on his belt.

“You don’t think her bed can handle me fucking you?” And there it is, that dirty mouth I’ve been missing.

“I don’t really know.” It’s a metal frame, all pretty and delicate. Bancroft’s bed is made of solid wood. It’s reinforced like a bunker. He can fuck me straight through the mattress if he wants and the frame will stay firmly intact. I’m not sure Amie’s bed is the same, although I was more concerned about having sex on the surface my best friend typically sleeps on.

“Let’s see how much it can take.” Bancroft turns me around, picks me up by the waist, and drops me on the bed. I lean back on my elbows, watching intently as he undresses. I wish I had music playing, something sexy to make into a striptease.

He’s gorgeous, with or without a soundtrack. His pants slide down his legs leaving him in boxers, his hard-on visible through the red fabric. The dim lighting casts shadows on the outline. I bite my lip and hum my appreciation.

He tugs at the waistband and lets it snap back. “See something you like?”

“I like the entire package, but the one inside those shorts wins all the awards.”

He pulls the right side down, then the left, lower and lower until the head peeks out. I sigh when he’s fully unveiled. Bancroft gives himself a slow stroke and I push up, thinking I might like to be the one who does that, but he puts a hand up to stop me. “I’ll come to you.”

He shoves his underwear the rest of the way down and steps out of them. Nudging my knees apart with his, he stretches out over me. My legs are still hanging off the bed and so are his.

“First, I’m going to fuck you, then I’m going to love you.”

I shiver from the promise and his tone. And then I groan when the thick head of his erection slides over slick skin. Bancroft keeps his eyes on mine as he rocks forward, easing inside.

The first few strokes are slow, but it’s been a long week of silence and uncertainty, so an undercurrent of desperation makes it hard to maintain the sweetness.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He strokes my cheek with warm fingers. “For what?”

“For thinking the worst.”

“No need for apologies, but if you still feel bad about it later you can let me fuck your mouth.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

He flashes a smirky grin. “I figured as much since you couldn’t seem to get enough of it last time.”

“You’re losing points again.”

“I guess I should do something to earn them back, then.”

Bancroft starts with a slow grind that makes the bed rock a little, but when he picks up speed and starts fucking me in earnest, the creaking grows infinitely louder.

I’m getting close, but I’m worried we might actually break Amie’s bed and it’s distracting.

“Maybe we should move to the floor,” I say somewhat breathlessly. It’s hard to talk and be plundered at the same time.

Bancroft shoves a hand under me, grabs hold of my right butt cheek, claps my palm against the back of his neck, and lifts me up on the next thrust. Spinning around, he pins me against the wall, and keeps right on going.

Every muscle in his torso is straining and tight, his neck corded, biceps flexing. He really wasn’t kidding about fucking me. It might be lovingly, but the impending orgasm promises to be nerve shattering.

I struggle to keep my eyes on him, on his dark, intense expression, on his gorgeous face, his parted lips.

“Come on, babe, I want to feel you come. Let me know how much you missed my cock.”

I have no idea why that makes me so hot, but it does the trick. I come. Hard.

“There it is,” he groans.

All I see is black, not because he’s fucked me blind, but because I’m looking at the back of my lids. I pry them open with some effort. Bancroft’s expression is complete male satisfaction. With one hand still gripping my ass cheek he brings the other one up, his index finger and thumb slide along the line of my jaw and he holds my face, his mouth an inch from mine.

“This is what I want. You. The way you’re looking at me right now. This feeling right here. Don’t take it away from me again.”

It doesn’t sound like an order so much as a plea. He kisses me hard and shudders as he comes. We’re both sweaty and breathing heavily as he adjusts his grip and backs up until he hits the bed. He sits down on the edge and I unhook my legs, maneuvering us until he’s lying with me on top of him, stretched out on the covers.