Just at that moment, I hear footsteps fall down the hallway and my heart stills as keys fall into the lock and the door opens.

A wave of lust hits me when Maddox steps through the door in pair of black jeans, a white shirt, and his hair styled in that messy, sexy way only he can pull off. His scruff is thick and his eyes are clear as ever, as he shuts the door behind him and sets his bag on the ground in the entryway.

“Get the fuck over here,” he says, his voice piercing me as I stand and rush over to him.

I fling my body at his and he catches me in the air, only to spin us both around and pin me against the door. His hands fly up to my cheeks where he grips me tightly and presses his mouth against mine, as if I’m the one giving him air and he needs it immediately.

Hungry and demanding, his mouth works over mine, pulling and teasing, pressing and prodding. His tongue sweeps across my lips, asking for entry. I don’t give it right away, giving him short, tight kisses and when he growls against me, his hand flying to the door in frustration, I smile and open my mouth, granting him access.

When my tongue caresses his, he moans out loud and shifts both of us, while one of his hands falls to my backside, holding me tightly. At first, his grip is so tight that it shoots a piercing pain through my side but it quickly subsides when I realize just how amazing it feels to have a man claim me the way Maddox is.

A heady sensation takes over as Maddox moves his lips across mine, to my jaw and then down my neck for a few brief seconds before he moves back up, ravishing my mouth like a man unhinged. The hunger in his kisses starts to slow down and instead of the fury from moments ago, his kisses turn slow, languid, purposeful with every swipe.

It’s drugging. That’s the only way to describe it. I feel like I’m floating away with every swipe, every press of his mouth to mine. Soft, featherlight, I can’t feel anything but the way his mouth intimately connects with mine.

I moan into his mouth, as my hands tangle in the short strands of his hair as I try to dig in deeper, glue my body to his, become one. And just as I feel like I might not be able to get any closer to him, Maddox pulls away and takes a deep breath.

His eyes are heavy, his smile lazy, and he looks completely satisfied . . . just from a kiss.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” I smile and then chuckle, burying my head in his shoulder.

He carries me to the couch where he sits down, keeping me on his lap. Hands on my thighs, he says, “Why are you laughing?”

“This just seems so surreal.” I lift up from his shoulder and caress his jaw. “I get to touch you, kiss you and not worry that I’m crossing a line.” I study the curve of his jaw. “I was so worried.”

“Worried?” His brow creases. “About?”

“That I was . . . you know, letting all my cards show. That you weren’t feeling the same way.”

“Seriously?” He laughs and pushes his hand through his hair. “Kinsley, I was practically dying every time you walked into a room. I couldn’t take it anymore, not being able to be with you the way I wanted, but I thought I should ease into it. So I touched you more, hoping you didn’t push me away.”

I sit back and consider the change in how we interacted: him pulling me onto his lap; him standing between my legs, touching me, holding me. He had been more intimate than normal.

“I thought maybe I was looking too far into things, because of my feelings.” I chuckle and place my hands on his chest, running my fingers along his pecs. “Apparently, I was reading you just right.”

“You were.” He rubs my thighs. “Fuck, I’m happy, Kin.”

“Me too.” I smile, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “This doesn’t feel weird?”

He shakes his head. “No, babe, this feels right.”

“You’re fucking cute, you know that?” Maddox asks as he leans against the bathroom counter, while I finish brushing my teeth.

We spent the rest of the day cuddling, making out, eating, working, making out some more. Flirting . . . and of course so much making out. My stomach has tumbled so much from his touch today that I actually feel slightly queasy from all the tossing and turning. But not queasy enough to stop from making out with him some more.

I spit my toothpaste, rinse my mouth, and dry it.

“Why do you say that?” I ask, leaning my hip against the counter as well.

His eyes zip down my body and then back up. “Tank top and underwear, that’s it?”

“Yeah?” I shrug. “You wear less.”

“Just cute that you dropped the shorts now that we’re you know . . .”

His words trail off and I cross my arms over my chest, staring him down. “Now that we’re what, Maddox?”

“Now that we’re, you know”—he closes the space between us, grips my hips, and smiles down at me—“dating.”

I chuckle at the awkwardness in his voice. “Say that with a little more pain, it will make me feel better.”

He laughs too and blows out a heavy breath. “Sorry, this is just different for me. I haven’t dated anyone since Jamie.”

His comment sparks a thought in my head, something that’s been ticking in the back of my mind, something the girls said to me.

Taking his hand in mine, I lead him to the bed where I sit him down and then climb on top of his lap.

“If you want me to behave, this is not the way to do it,” he says, his hands falling to my backside, pulling me in even closer. The fabric between us is so thin that I can already feel him between my legs and good God, he’s right. This is not the ideal position to be sitting in when we’re both just wearing underwear.

Ignoring the growing desire from feeling him semi-hard beneath me, I trace the tattoos on his chest. “I have something to ask you and I don’t want you to get mad.”

“You know that’s a sure-fire way to get me mad, right? When you tell me not to get mad? Because whatever you’re about to say is most likely going to make me mad.”

“I know.” I lean forward and press a kiss to his neck, then his jaw, followed by his lips. He groans when I pull away. “But I need to ask you this because as you so painfully said in the bathroom, we’re dating. Therefore, we need to get everything out in the open, right?”

“Or we can keep everything closed off, talk about nothing, and just fuck.”

“When would that ever happen?”

He shrugs, looking like the teenager I knew way back when. “Thought I’d give it a shot.”

“It was a cute attempt, but that would never happen. I’m all about being open and honest with each other, which brings me to my question.”

“That I’m not supposed to get mad at.”

“Exactly.” I press a quick kiss to his lips, which pulls a smile from him. “So I was talking with Dottie and Natalie—”

“I can already tell I’m not going to like what you have to say if it has to do with gossip.”

“Hey, you told them to come hang out with me.”

“I know, but that was before I thought of all the things they’d tell you.”

My brows raise in question. “Are you hiding things from me, Maddox?”

“No. But you know how that shit goes. They put an idea in your head and then it’s all you can think about.”

“Well, yes, that might have happened, but I just want to clear things up, and then I’ll never ask about it again.”

“Okay,” he says with resignation. “Hit me.”

“Cleat chasers.” He rolls his eyes. “Were they at your hotels this past away trip?”

“They’re at the hotels every trip.”

“Have you ever, you know, taken one back to your hotel room?”

He tips my chin up to look him in the eyes. “Are you asking if I took a girl back to my room this past week?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me.”

His grip on my backside grows tighter and I can feel him start to get angry from the suggestion. I wince.

“Kinsley, that’s fucked up.”