You’ve got to love the easy access.

I kneel down in front of her. “Drew…?” It’s a half question, half moan.


“Shhh. If I’m going to top ‘nice’ I need to concentrate.”

And there’s not a single coherent word between us for the rest of the night.

Chapter 16

EVERY SUPERHERO HAS A HIDEOUT—a sanctuary. At least all the good ones do. I have one too. My own personal Bat Cave. It’s where the magic happens. Where I’ve built the legend that is my career.

My home office.

It’s a male haven. A p**sy-free zone—in the good kind of way. Every guy should have one. I decorated it myself—each piece, every detail. If my car is my baby, this room is my firstborn. My pride and joy.

Mahogany floors, handmade oriental rugs, English leather couches. A stone fireplace and built-in bookshelves line one wall. Behind my desk is a full picture window that offers a priceless view of the city. And in the corner is a card table where the guys and I drink aged Scotch, smoke Cuban cigars, and play poker once a month.

It’s the only time Steven is allowed to come out and play.

I’m at my desk, in boxers, working on my laptop. It’s what I do every Sunday afternoon.

Kate? No—she’s still here. But after our fuck-a-thon last night, I figured I should let her sleep in. Recharge the batteries. I canceled brunch with my mother and blew off the basketball game with the boys. And now I’m staring at the final draft of a contract when a sleepy voice calls me from the doorway.


I look up and smile. “Hi.”

She’s wearing another one of my T-shirts—the black Metallica one. It goes past her knees. That and the sleep-mussed hair make her look sweet but sexy. Alluring. Compared to Kate, work’s not looking so appetizing anymore.

She runs a hand through her hair as her eyes sweep over the room. “This is a beautiful office, Drew. Breathtaking.”

Kate is the type of woman who appreciates the importance of an awe-inspiring workspace. If you want to be a winner, you need an office that says you already are one. “Thanks. It’s my favorite room in the apartment.”

“I can see why.”

She picks up a frame from one of the shelves and shows it to me. “Who’s this?”

It’s a picture of Mackenzie and me at the beach last summer. She buried me up to my neck in the sand. “My niece, Mackenzie.”

She looks at the photo and smiles. “She’s adorable. I bet she worships you.”

“Yeah, she does. And I’d pretty much cut my hand off for her if she asked me to, so it’s equitable. I’d love for you to meet her one day.”

Kate doesn’t hesitate. “I’d really like that.”

She makes her way over to my chair and perches herself on my knee. I lean forward till my lips find hers—my tongue driving deep into the mouth I now know so well.

She snuggles back against my bare chest. “You’re so warm.” She rests her head on my shoulder and looks toward my computer. “What are you working on?”

I sigh. “This deal with Jarvis Technologies.”

Jarvis is a communications company. They’re looking to acquire a broadband satellite subsidiary.

I rub my eyes.


I’m usually a lone wolf when it comes to business. I don’t confide—I don’t share. My opinion is the only one that counts. But talking to Kate about business is kind of like talking to myself. I’m actually interested in hearing what she has to say. “Yeah. The CEO is all brains and no balls. I’ve got the perfect deal lined up, but he won’t pull the trigger. He’s nervous about the risk.”

Her finger traces my jaw. “Every acquisition has risks. You have to show him the payoff is worth it.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

She perks up then. “You know, I have something that could help you out. One of my old study partners from Wharton designed a template for a new valuation model. If you run it and the numbers are solid, it might just be enough to persuade Jarvis to take the plunge.”

I’m starting to think Kate’s brain turns me on almost as much as her ass.


“It’s on disk in my bag. I’ll get it for you.”

As she stands to go, I grab the bottom of her shirt and pull her back down on my lap—so there’s no way she can miss the perpetual hard-on I’m sporting. My arms wrap around her waist, trapping her. My mouth’s against her ear.

“Before we get into that, there’s something I want to do first.”

There’s amusement in her voice as she asks, “What do you want to do, Drew?”

I pick her up, sweep everything off my desk, and lay her down.


We spend the rest of the day working. And talking. And laughing. I tell Kate about Mackenzie and the Bad Word Jar that’s sucking me dry. She tells me more about growing up in Greenville and her parents’ café. We eat lunch on the balcony. It’s cold, so Kate sits on my lap to keep warm and feeds me with her fingers.

I can’t remember ever having such a good time. And we aren’t even screwing.

Go figure.

It’s after ten. We’re getting ready for bed. Kate is in the shower.


She took my razor and kicked me out. Unlike women, guys don’t need privacy. There is no bodily function a man won’t perform in front of an audience.

We have no shame.

But whatever; if Kate needs her space, she can have it. I keep myself busy while I wait for her. I change the sheets. I take the box of condoms out of my drawer—to have a few in easy reach.

Then my heart sinks. And if he could, my dick would cry.

The box is empty. “Fuck.”

“My thoughts exactly. Great minds think alike.”

I turn at Kate’s voice. She stands in the doorway, one hand on her hip, the other braced against the doorframe. She’s beautifully, wonderfully nak*d. Her snatch is shaven even closer than before—just a whisper of dark curls. Sweet Christ.

I keep waiting for the time when Kate’s body doesn’t get to me. When I feel been-there-done-that. So far, it’s just the opposite.

It’s like…eating lobster. If you’ve never eaten it, you think, “Eh, maybe.” But once you’ve tasted it? The chance to eat it again gets your mouth watering like the goddamn Mississippi River. Because now you know how f**king delicious it really is. Even just the thought her…God. I may end up being the first man in history capable of masturbating without touching himself.

Look, Mom—no hands.

She walks toward me, wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me slowly, her tongue coming out to trace my lower lip in the sexiest frigging way. I force myself to pull back. “Kate, wait…we can’t.”

Her hand slides into my boxers, around my already hard cock. She gives it a few pumps. “I think someone disagrees with you.”

I press my forehead to hers. My voice sounds strangled. “No…I mean, we’re out. Condoms. I…um…” I put my hand over hers, stopping her strokes so I’ll be able to string a few words together that actually make sense. “I have to go to the store on the corner and get more…and then…God, then I’ll f**k you all night.”

Kate looks down and swallows. Her voice is hushed. “Or, we could…not…use them.”


I’ve never gone bareback. Ever. Not even during my younger years. I’ve always loved my dick much too much to have it shrivel up and fall off.

“I’m on the pill, Drew. And Billy…he’s a lot of things, but he’d never cheat on me. Have you been…tested?”

Sure I have. Once a month, for as long as I can remember. It’s a must with my lifestyle. An occupational hazard, you could say. My voice practically squeaks. “Yeah. I…I have. I’m good. But…are you sure?”

I’ve been offered a lot of things in bed. Every kind of kinky contraption and role-play you can imagine. Some you probably can’t. Fucking without protection has never been one of them. It’s not smart or safe. A woman can say she’s on the pill, but how do you really know? People can tell you they’re clean, but I wouldn’t believe them. That would require trust.

And trust has never been a factor in my sex life.

It’s not about sharing—getting to know someone and letting them know me. It’s about getting off and getting the girl off in the process. Period.

“I want to feel you, Drew. I want you to feel me. I don’t want…anything between us.”

I gaze at her eyes. The way she’s looking at me…it’s just like she did after our shower yesterday. Like she’s giving me something—a gift. That’s just for me. Only for me. And it’s her. Because she trusts me, has faith in me, believes in me. And you know what?

I don’t want Kate to ever look at me any other way.

“Kate, these last couple days with you have been amazing. I’ve never…I’ve just never…” I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling. I have no idea how to tell her. I make my living off the ability to communicate. By being able to verbalize an idea. Describe a plan.

But at this moment words are pitifully inadequate.

So I grab her by the upper arms and drag her against me. She moans from surprise or excitement—I’m not sure which. Her tongue slides against mine, and her hands pull at my hair. Somehow we end up on the bed, side by side, mouths fused together, my boxers on the floor. My hand slides over her tits, down her stomach, and between her legs.

I groan, “Fuck, Kate, you’re already wet.”

And she is. I’ve barely touched her and she’s dripping for me. Jesus. I’ve never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want her at this moment. She nips at my neck as I slide my fingers inside. Her p**sy closes around them like a goddamn glove, and we both moan loudly.

Then Kate’s hands are on me, all over me. Cupping my balls, stroking my cock, scratching my chest and back.

I roll her under me. I need her—now. I tease her open with my dick, coating the tip with her sweet cream. Heat rolls off her, from her. She’s like a fire—calling to me, drawing me in. I push inside slowly but to the hilt, and my eyes fall closed in perfect f**king ecstasy.

She’s bare, unguarded, all around me. She feels…more. Wetter, hotter, tighter. More in every way. It’s unbelievable.

Kate grips my ass, kneading and massaging and urging me in deeper. But I pull all the way out, just so I can slide back in again.

Christ Almighty.

I set the rhythm. It’s not slow or sweet or tender. It’s brutal and hot, and f**king amazing.

High-pitched whimpers escape through her parted lips. Then my mouth is on hers again, cutting them off. And we’re grasping at each other, desperate and raw.

Like it’s the first time. Like it’s the last time.

She’s curled around me in every way. Her cunt envelops my cock, her legs surround my waist, her arms encircle my neck—all wrapped tight like some exquisite vise. And I’m burrowing into her, wanting to be closer, needing to be deeper. God, I’d f**king crawl inside her if I could and never want out.