Chapter 3

THREE

As soon as the elevator doors close in his fancy apartment building, my body is crowded against the wall, and Ty’s lips crash down on mine. My whole body melts against his while heat licks across every nerve ending, setting my skin on fire with a lust I’ve never felt before. I’ve never wanted a man this badly, but after hours of flirting, all I want is for him to keep kissing me like he needs me to breathe.

All night long, there have been small touches between the two of us, steamy looks, and a growing tension like someone was pulling a rubber band taut until it was about to snap. But unlike Devon and Blaire, he didn’t kiss me at the club, which honestly, only made me want him more.

My hands grip his hips and pull him against me, grinding on his thigh while his hard bulge rubs against my belly.

“Fuck, Lexi,” he curses before his hands slide into my hair, holding me exactly how he wants me, and his tongue licks across my lips. I grant him entry, wanting nothing more than to feel his tongue against mine. My hips have a mind of their own and grind against him, seeking some kind of reprieve from the out-of-control desire coursing through my body.

The ding of the elevator breaks through my lust fog and he pulls away, clearly reluctant if the heavy sigh is any indication. “God, I can’t wait to get you naked.”

Same. But my brain is hazy and blissed-out from his drugging kiss, and no words come out of my mouth.

He grabs my hand, and I follow him out of the elevator, barely aware of our surroundings because I’m so distracted by him. His hair is disheveled and his clothes a little less perfect than they were when we met at the club, but he’s still sexy as hell with his strong jaw peppered with some scruff, and those tattoos that I want to trace with my tongue. And goddamn, can the man kiss.

He opens the door in front of us and allows me to walk inside. I already texted Blaire the address just as a precaution, but now that I’m walking in front of him and not distracted by how hot he is and how badly I want him, I’m suddenly very aware of how high-end his place is.

It looks like a professional did the interior design. It certainly doesn’t have the typical bachelor pad look I was expecting. Everything is white, black, and stainless steel. It’s modern, but perfectly placed rugs make it also feel comfortable. It looks like something I’d see in a magazine featuring a rich bachelor pad, and in this part of LA, given the sheer size of his place, there’s no doubt this guy is loaded.

The door shuts and I spin around to face him. He’s gripping his neck and staring around his place as if he’s embarrassed or something. I’m not sure what he could possibly be embarrassed about. It’s not even messy like I would’ve expected from a bachelor pad.

And then a horrible thought hits me, and I want to puke.

“You’re not married, are you?”

His brown eyes widen. “What?! No. Why would you think that?”

I glance around his relatively spotless apartment. “Because I’ve never met a man who keeps a place this clean unless he was married or in a very serious relationship.”

His shoulders drop and a small smile lifts his lips. “No relationship. Not for over a year now. But my mom would kill me if she discovered she raised a slob. I hire a cleaning service to come over once a week, and I maintain it the rest of the time.”

“Oh.” The frantic beating of my heart settles again.

“Oh? Nothing else?” he asks, walking forward, his heated gaze locked on mine and trapping me in my spot.

“No,” I whisper as he gets within a foot of me, staring down at me like he finds me endlessly fascinating.

And beautiful.

It’s there in his gaze, his attraction to me. It’s a type of focus I can honestly say I’ve never had from a man before. He’s been attentive to me all night, even when the waitress in the VIP lounge tried to flirt and show off her cleavage every time she dropped off drinks or food. He never once wavered in giving me every ounce of his attention. It made me feel special in a way that also makes me nervous.

This is supposed to be casual. He’s not supposed to make me feel anything besides sexual attraction. But there’s a weight to his stare that is definitely more than casual, and it’s right there on the tip of my tongue to ask him about his life. The desire to learn more about this man who came out of nowhere is strong, and it’s making me rethink my stance on how this night is supposed to go.

No .

One night only. I’m letting loose. That’s all. I don’t have time for a relationship anyway.

I ignore the pang of disappointment that follows that lie. Blaire’s the first person in a long time who put in the effort to climb over my steel walls and get to know me. I don’t let people in, but there’s a big part of me that wants to let this guy in, and that’s so terrifying, I banish the thought immediately.

This night with him has been perfect. Anything more and he’ll probably show his true colors like every other man from my past. And none of those colors were ever pretty. I don’t want to learn that Ty is like all the rest.So, one night is all we’ll have, and I’ll be able to cherish the memory instead of letting him taint it.

“Kiss me,” I plead.

“Gladly,” he murmurs before his lips are back on mine and he’s plundering my mouth with his tongue like he wants to learn every inch of it. I moan against him and sag into his body. His hands swoop me up into a bridal carry as he walks us somewhere farther into his apartment. I hope it’s his bedroom because I need to feel his naked body on mine more than I need my next breath.

He pushes open a door at the end of the hall and then sets me down on his bed. I frantically go for his shirt buttons, but he grabs my hands, stopping me. “Not so fast there, sweetheart. I plan to take my time with you, unless you’re in a rush to leave?”

“No,” I say, but it’s not the entire truth. I’m worried the longer I stay, the more the lines of tonight will blur and I’ll want so much more than he can give me. This doesn’t seem like a man who settles down with a teacher who had a bad upbringing and no family roots whatsoever. This looks like a man who ends up with some model or celebrity and has his wedding splashed all over the pages of People magazine. He’s so far out of my league, it’s not even funny. I’m just grateful he doesn’t seem to have figured that out yet.

“Good,” he says. “Now take your clothes off nice and slow for me.”

“What about you?”

He smiles, his hands already reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “I’ll be doing the same thing.”

“Why don’t you take my clothes off for me?” I ask, trying to be a little sexy when really I just want his hands on me.

He leans over me on the bed, caging me in with his thick arms, and slides his nose along my jaw before nipping at my ear. A zing of desire shoots straight to my clit, and my stomach clenches. “Because if I touch you, I won’t be able to control myself and take this as slowly as I want to. God, you have no idea how desperate I am for you, to be inside you, how much restraint it’s taking not to ravage you right now.”

A needy moan escapes. “Please,” I beg. God, I want him to do exactly that. I can’t remember the last time I was ravaged. If I’m honest, the answer is probably never, at least not the way I imagine this man will. I’ll be hugely disappointed if he turns out to be a dud in bed.

He groans and quickly stands back up, putting distance between us. “Lexi, you’re fucking killing me.”

But he still doesn’t touch me. If I want him to, then I need to entice him with something he can’t say no to. I stand up and spin around. “Can you unzip me?”

I hear him take a ragged breath before the heat of his body is at my back, and he grips the zipper in his big hands, pulling it down slowly. When he gets to the bottom, he pushes aside the upper half of my dress and drops a kiss at the top of my spine. “Where on earth did you come from?” he whispers so quietly, I’m not sure he meant for me to hear.

But I did, and those words affect me nearly as much as his touch. Not just the words themselves, but how he says them. Like I’m a gift—someone who’s wanted.

I’ve never been wanted by anyone, not for anything real at least. Emotion sweeps through me, but I have lots of practice pushing it down, so that’s what I do—shove it down as far as I can until I’m certain it won’t threaten to ruin tonight for me.

When I’m sure my emotions won’t show on my face, I spin around and slip out of my dress until it pools in a pile at my feet.

His eyes darken and smolder. “God, you are fucking gorgeous.”

Nerves swirl and swoop in my belly as I laugh it off. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”

His serious gaze pierces me and forces the lighthearted smile right off my face. “Not at all.” He slides his hands into my hair again, holding me close and searing my soul with his intense gaze. “Lexi, I haven’t felt like this about someone I just met. Ever.”

I swallow thickly. No. That can’t possibly be true.He’s just playing me. That’s what obviously rich guys do when they’re with a girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Right?

“I don’t care. Kiss me,” I mutter, pushing up on my toes in an attempt to close the distance between our mouths.

He holds me just far enough away that I can’t get what I want. “Not until you tell me you understand. You’re special.” He says it so softly and tenderly my heart aches.

“You don’t know me,” I say, hating how low and shaky my voice has gotten.

“I know enough. I know you’re passionate about your students. You care about your friend—I heard you making sure she would be safe with Devon. You are respectful and kind. You thanked the waitress even though she kept trying to throw herself at me. You wished the bouncers a good night, and our driver a safe drive home. Do you know how many women have done that when I’m around?”

I shake my head.

“None. You are special, and I know we’re just getting to know each other, but I can’t wait to learn everything I can, and not just how to make you scream my name,” he adds with a soft smile, but there’s still an intensity in his eyes that makes my stomach clench with nerves.

I can’t give him what he thinks I can. I can give him this—sex and a night together. But this man has his life together, and I’m broken. He doesn’t need my baggage. If he really knew me, he’d discover what a mess my life has been and that I’m nothing but ordinary. There’s never been anything remotely special about me.

“Do you understand?” he asks again, his eyes pleading.

“Yes,” I say. I understand that he’s going to make it difficult for me to leave him. Already my heart aches, wanting to believe his words, even when I have a lifetime of examples proving them wrong.

Words are pretty things that are often empty and meaningless. Actions never fail to tell the truth.

I’ll give him my body, but that’s all I can give him.

He stares at me for another minute, and then because I need to move this along before I fall any deeper, I run my hands over his bare chest where his shirt gapes and slide my hands up and over his pecs until I reach his shoulders and push his shirt off. He lets me, his eyes never leaving mine but growing heavy-lidded the longer I touch him.

Once his shirt hits the floor, I move my hands to his belt, but he grabs them to stop me. “If you touch me there right now, this will be over embarrassingly fast. It’s…it’s been a while.” He says it like he’s self-conscious, but I’m curious what his definition of a while is.

“How long?”

“Six months.”

That’s longer than I would expect from a man as hot as he is who’s clearly loaded.

A look crosses his face. “How long’s it been for you?”

“Longer than that. Now take those pants off and fuck me.”

His smile returns. “You’re pretty pushy when you’re horny, aren’t you?”

“I was promised earth-shattering sex. Most men would’ve already started by now. Hell, most men would probably be done by now.”

He undoes his belt and his pants as he talks. “I’m not most men,” he says, spinning my own words from earlier in the evening back to me.

“No, you most certainly are not,” I agree, and that’s what’s so terrifying. I’m used to knowing what men expect from me. It’s why it’s been so easy not to have sex for the last year and a half.

Ty is unlike any man I’ve ever met, and I wish he wasn’t so heart-wrenchingly handsome or sweet so I could pretend this was just sex. But already, I can feel my walls crumbling and my need for him morphing into something deeper. Something I shouldn’t feel for him after only a few hours in his company.

Then his pants fall, along with his boxer briefs, and he’s standing before me completely naked while I’m still in my bra and underwear. His hot gaze slides over my breasts and then down to that space between my legs.

“Seems you’re a bit overdressed.”

I scan his insanely sculpted body, my mouth watering with each defined line I see and the assortment of tattoos covering his arms, torso, and upper thighs. This man has never skipped gym day in his life. That or God really does pick favorites, and Ty is definitely His. No man should be this perfect.

“Lexi?”

I rip my gaze away from the hard dick that’s already leaking a bit of precum and force myself to meet his eyes. One brow is arched as he smiles knowingly at me.

“Do you need a hand?” he asks as he steps closer.

All I can do is nod. Yes, hands. I need his hands on me.He slides them up my sides and then to my back, unhooking my bra within seconds and discarding it on the floor. His hungry mouth finds mine, and all thoughts are obliterated as he moves us to the bed, slips my underwear off, and then works his mouth down my heaving chest, over my stomach, until he reaches that magical place between my legs that I was convinced men didn’t know existed.

Oh, but Ty finds it. Because of course this sexy-as-hell man knows how to find a clitoris.

My fingers dig into his hair as he shows me how skilled that mouth of his is, taking me right over the edge of oblivion within minutes. My body has barely recovered when he grabs a condom and thrusts deep inside me.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice tight like it’s taking all his strength not to give in to the pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” I beg, my nails digging into his ass while I tilt my hips, eager to keep this pleasure going. God, this man is going to ruin sex for me. No one will ever be able to live up to this.

“Fuck,” he curses, then slides his hand between us, rubbing tantalizing circles on my clit while his cock thrusts hard into my pussy, hitting a spot deep inside I didn’t know existed.

My back arches as a scream rips from my throat, the pleasure rushing through me so intensely I can hardly catch my breath. Two more thrusts and he follows me over with a deep groan.

“Give me ten minutes and then we definitely need to do that again,” he says as he collapses next to me, his body lax.

Four hours and three rounds later, my body is deliciously sore, and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I know I can’t fall asleep like Ty already has. It’s time to go. I put my clothes back on as silently as I can and then move toward the door of his bedroom.

I glance back one last time, memorizing how relaxed and peaceful he looks asleep. Ty. A man I’ll remember for the rest of my life, even if he was only mine for one night.

With an aching heart, I sneak out of his fancy apartment and take a cab back home.