Chapter Seventeen

B urgess couldn’t stop staring at Tallulah.

She’d already had a lively sparkle in her eye, but after what happened in the coffee shop, he could see that spark had always been slightly subdued. Until now. They stood on the rooftop of a building that overlooked Fenway, the famous Citgo sign buzzing fifty yards over their heads, and she was brighter than any star in the sky. More brilliant than the nighttime lights illuminating the field. She put the Citgo sign to shame. She fucking glowed.

Remaining seated in that coffee shop booth had nearly killed him. At one point, he’d been positive his hand was going to rip a chunk out of the Formica table. Especially when that slimeball touched the back of her chair and leaned in. Every instinct inside of Burgess screamed for him to go rampaging through the establishment, flipping tables as he went, roaring for the geek to back up off his girl, but thank God, he’d controlled himself. Stayed put, even though his ribs felt as though they were being crushed by a boulder.

Tallulah had overcome something.

And he could see she was better for it. Proud of herself.

Still hopped up on adrenaline, too, which made her very flirtatious—and Burgess wasn’t mad at that. Quite the opposite, actually. He loved how comfortable she’d grown touching him, almost like it came as second nature since hugging him in the coffee shop.

At the moment, she was leaning back against his chest watching the sliver of Fenway they could see from their vantage point on the roof, the crown of her head tucked beneath his chin. She’d tuned in to the live feed of the Red Sox game on her phone, so the sound of the announcer’s voice mingled with the cool night breeze.

Tallulah’s resulting shiver had Burgess wrapping his arms around her, resting them just beneath her collarbone, letting out a breath when she didn’t protest, relaxing against him even more. Enough to rest the back of her head on his chest.

God. He didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

There was a cracking sound, followed by the announcer’s excited voice. The distant roar of the crowd. Tallulah smiled up at him. “I think they’ve got this one in the bag.”

Having this woman smile up at him was almost too much, so his response was preceded by a lot of gruff sounds. “You know, I could have gotten us tickets to the actual game.”

“No way, this is so much better,” she murmured.

Burgess had to agree wholeheartedly. Even if he’d gotten them seats in one of the air-conditioned boxes, there would have been other people around. And honestly, fuck other people right now, he just needed this one.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her, pressing his lips to her hair.

She made a soft sound and snuggled back against him, steeping him in oranges and basil and contentment. “I was thinking about the stir you created in the coffee shop. You’re kind of a big deal around here. In Boston. But you haven’t always been here, right? Where’s home?”

The fact that she wanted to know more about him had to be a good sign, right? His pulse seemed to think so. “Syracuse. New York. My mother retired from her position at the university last year. She was a creative writing professor.”

“Wow. Is she the one who molded you into a hockey player?”

“No, although I attended and played for Syracuse. She definitely had some influence over that decision.” Burgess laughed quietly. “But when I was young, she didn’t know what to make of me. My father was never in the picture, but he must have been a big dude, because my mother barely clears five feet. She’s a tea-drinking connoisseur of the arts. Classical music was always playing in the house, book clubs held weekly. But suddenly she’s got this six foot tall eleven-year-old asking to try out for the hockey team. So anyway, I kind of had to mold myself into a player, with the help of my coaches.” He huffed a laugh. “And thank God for those coaches, because when I hit my teens and started to rebel, they stepped in and helped her out there, too. Surrogate dads.”

“You mentioned before that you used to raise hell,” she said, squinting up at him thoughtfully. “I’m having a hard time picturing that. What’s the worst thing you ever did?”

“Worst or craziest?”

“Oh. Craziest. For sure.”

He took in a breath and let it out. “Probably the time I broke the ice at both ends of my local pond and swam underneath from one end to the other. All in one breath. On a dare.”

Tallulah gaped up at his chin. “Okay, that is bone-chilling .”

“I know. Imagining Lissa doing something like that makes me break out in hives.” He was silent for a moment. “My mom compensated for my father’s absence in so many ways, but sometimes I think all the risks I took were to punish him for not being around. Which is ridiculous. He couldn’t have known what I was doing.”

A sympathetic spasm took place in her breast. “Not ridiculous. A way of expressing a need. Pain.” She rubbed his arm. “That can look so many different ways.”

“Yeah. Looking back, I wish I would have appreciated my mom more. How hard she tried to understand hockey. She even brought her book club to a game once. That effort was more than enough. I didn’t need anything else.”

Her throat squeezed. “Do you visit her? She must love Lissa.”

“Lissa is definitely more her speed. We get together at Christmas and they dork out.”

Tallulah’s throat muscles loosened with a laugh, her body starting to shake with mirth. “What does your mother think about your nickname?”

“She said the alliteration is pleasing.”

“Oh yeah. That’s definitely a creative writing instructor.”

“Through and through.”

Tallulah was quiet for a beat. “Does it bother you that you never met your father?”

Burgess rested his chin on her head and thought, briefly. “When I was younger, it did. Yeah. I had no one to watch hockey games with on television in my living room. I’d sit there silently, trying not to interrupt my mom’s reading.”

“Oh, that’s where you learned to be the strong, silent type.”

“Maybe so. Is that how you’ve categorized me?”

“You don’t have a category,” she said tilting her head back to bat her eyelashes at him. “You need two of something to make a category and I doubt there’s more than one Burgess.”

See?

Flirtatious.

Or was she just being playful so he wouldn’t read too much into her words? They carried weight with him, either way. Everything she said and did carried weight. Just this morning, though, she’d told him she didn’t want anything serious. For now, he needed to let her feel free to say whatever she wanted to him, touch him however she wanted, without worrying he was going to press the issue of a relationship. That would only cause her to back off and damn, he really didn’t want that.

Not when he was holding her in the moonlight, listening to her telling him he was one of a kind.

“There’s only one you, too,” he said, his right hand sliding down to her hip, massaging it in his hand and watching her lashes flutter. “Are you going to tell me what he said to you in the coffee shop?”

“I don’t think I should.”

Wires wound slowly around his jugular. “That bad?” he managed.

“Yes.”

Burgess was starting to breathe hard, using the hand on Tallulah’s hip to pull her closer, protecting her after the fact. Maybe he shouldn’t have stayed put in the booth after all. Maybe he should have gone over there and tossed the cretin through the plate glass window. “What did he say? I can handle it.”

Tallulah took a deep breath.

Oh God, this was going to be bad.

“He called you a Neanderthal,” Tallulah whispered, anger crackling in her voice. “I’d told one of our mutual friends I worked for you and he assumed correctly you were the man I was kissing outside of the club. And he called you... that.”

The hot magma that had been flowing in his veins, prepared to erupt over a vile insult toward Tallulah, cooled immediately. “Wait, that’s it?”

She spun around in his arms. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?”

“I mean, he insulted me , not you? That’s what pissed you off enough to call him a motherfucker and threaten to break his glasses?”

“Yes!” She scrubbed circles on his chest with her palms. “He doesn’t even know you!”

Holy shit, she was really, honest-to-God upset. And... was she attempting to soothe him by rubbing his chest? The very possibility made him feel immortal. He usually defended other people, but... she’d come to his defense? That meant a lot. But number one on his priority list was making her feel better. Immediately. “Tallulah.”

“What?”

“Do you have any idea what kind of names I’ve been called on the road? Hell, I’ve been called worse by my own teammates.”

She blinked up at him. “So?”

He stroked the side of her face. “‘Neanderthal’ doesn’t even rate, gorgeous.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did I want to stab him in the throat?”

I’m going to marry this girl someday. “I don’t know,” he said, winded by the vow he’d just made to himself. “You tell me.”

Possibly realizing she’d revealed too much, Tallulah bit her lip and turned back around, allowing him to gather her back against his chest, not even protesting when he started planting kisses on her hairline. She’d found her voice today... all because some geek insulted him? What did that mean and why did it make him feel like his chest was disintegrating?

“If someone insulted you,” he said, taking a handful of her hair and tugging, looking down into her upturned face. “I would do a lot worse than break their fucking glasses.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Good.”

He could kiss her right now. She wanted to be kissed. But whatever pandemonium was taking place inside of him all but guaranteed he wouldn’t be able to stop—and she wasn’t ready to sleep together without a no-strings disclaimer attached. Therefore, even though it pained him, he let go of her hair, allowing them to regroup while the baseball game played out in the distance.

“Whatever caused you to stand up to someone who made you uneasy, Tallulah, I’m proud of you for doing it. I hope you’re proud of yourself, too.”

“I am...” She shifted against him. “I am, but I still have a long way to go. I think I’ll know I’ve overcome what happened when...”

“When what?”

“I don’t necessarily want to go on adventures alone all the time—I just want to know that I can . Without being afraid. Once I’m strong enough for that, I’ll call my family. In Istanbul. I’ll be able to speak to my sister and know I kept my word.”

He couldn’t swallow around the goose egg stuck in his throat. “I think that day is closer than you think.”

“Yeah. In the meantime, I have the postcards.”

“Postcards?”

She nodded, reaching down to unzip the purse that was strapped diagonally on her body, resting against the front of her left hip. After the briefest of hesitations, she removed a ziplock baggie containing a stack of postcards. He could only see the top one, which was an aerial shot of Boston Harbor.

“I’ve been sending home postcards for four years. On all of my stops. Most of them go to Lara. I tell her I’m having a great time and enjoying myself—and maybe I was, in a way, but... I wasn’t out trying new things and refusing to be held back by the fear, like I promised her I would. The postcards are kind of a placeholder for what I’d hoped to do eventually. I’m sure she knows that I was stalling. She could always read me.”

Being allowed into this person’s head would forever be his life’s biggest honor. It was a beautiful, complicated place and he couldn’t wait to explore it. As much as he could for as long as he was allowed. “Then she also knows you’ll keep your promise when you can.”

“Thanks,” she whispered, nuzzling his shoulder with her nose.

They remained that way in the silence, Tallulah wrapped in his arms, the back of her head on his chest, the breeze occasionally traveling along the rooftop to lift her hair, the pounding of his heart drowning out the announcer’s voice.

T allulah thought she’d be a lot more nervous about skinny dipping, once time for the main event arrived, but as Burgess put the SUV in park approximately fifty yards from Jamaica Pond, a sort of giddiness stole over her. Maybe what had taken place earlier that day had bolstered her confidence or maybe it was the man sitting beside her, stern and unshakable, that allowed her to feel pure excitement, as opposed to concern. Or perhaps it was the thick darkness that allowed only Burgess’s headlights to penetrate it and knowing the black sky would cloak her nefarious adventure.

Whatever the reason, she all but threw herself out of the passenger side, almost forgetting to grab the beach towel she’d borrowed from Burgess. Immediately, crickets chirped on all sides of her, the sound mingling with the whispering wind. Night cloaked her.

Excited her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this with me?”

“You’re the thrill seeker, not me. I’m just here for backup.”

Tallulah pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or comforted that you’re passing on the chance to see me naked.”

Burgess came around the front bumper of the SUV, his hefty frame passing through the beams of his headlights one by one. When he drew closer, she could see his expression, which read something along the lines of are you being serious right now? “Tallulah, I’m passing on the chance for you to see me naked after a dip in that freezing cold pond.”

His meaning dawned on her. “Really? You’re missing out because of shrinkage?” She wrapped the towel around her shoulders and tucked the corner in between her breasts, starting to disrobe beneath the barrier. Off came her shoes and sneakers, followed by her skirt and panties—and she couldn’t help but notice the way Burgess swallowed what looked like a goose egg, the object getting stuck in his throat as he watched her every move. “You’re forgetting I’ve already met the man downstairs.”

“Not the way I’d like you meet him.”

Tallulah was grateful for the darkness that hid her blush. “I’m just saying, I already know it’s... you know.”

He sauntered toward her with a raised eyebrow, stopping just inches away. “It’s what?”

“Substantial.” It took an effort, but she ignored the closeness of his chiseled mouth, wiggling around so she could unsnap her bra, dropping the black demi cup into the pile of clothes forming beneath her. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Sir Savage?”

“Find me a man who doesn’t like the word ‘substantial’ in reference to his junk.”

She trapped a laugh. “But?”

“But...” He tipped her chin up, rubbed the pad of his thumb in the indent at the center of her bottom lip. “After you meet me down there, you won’t be laughing when you talk about it. You’ll whisper about my cock like you’re in church.”

The playfulness of the moment came to a screeching halt. Prickles of awareness carried down her torso, tightening her nipples as they went, sensitizing her thighs and shooting sparks in her nerve endings, her toes digging into the ground, the only things keeping her locked to the earth. Suddenly the cover of night gave permission for a lot more than a single nefarious act. They were alone out there, she was naked, him fully clothed, and he’d let her know his dick would be a turning point in her life. And God, he smelled good, looked good, towering over her, radiating competence and protectiveness, an open invitation in his eyes.

“Maybe you should have a little think while I’m skinny dipping.” She walked her fingertips up his chest and gently tugged on his beard. “About your reasons for not sleeping with me. And whether calling yourself my boyfriend is really necessary when you’re already getting to do the most fun part of being someone’s boyfriend.”

He tucked his tongue into his cheek, laughing in a way that suggested physical pain. “You make a compelling argument, but it’s not going to work.”

“Why not?”

“A few reasons. One, you work for me. You’re the nanny, Tallulah. It sounds like some ridiculous porn category and nothing about the way I feel about you is ridiculous. Two...” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I guess I want to be important to you. It’ll be easier for you to pretend I’m not important once I become the man you’re hooking up with. Instead of the man you could... maybe fall for someday. When I take you to bed for the first time, I want you looking back at me like you might. Like you could, you know. Fall for me.” He cleared his throat extra hard. “And three, I won’t relax until I know some punk ass college kid isn’t going to come steal you out from under me.”

Tallulah stood mostly naked, in a towel that flapped in the cool wind, but she didn’t feel a hint of the cold. In fact, she couldn’t feel a single thing, save the heart that was absolutely rioting in her rib cage. I want to be important to you. Those seven words stood out in a sea of similarly incredible words, bobbing up and down like happy little buoys. Sure, those buoys were surrounded by man-eating sharks, but they still stole her breath. They made her think... what if this man could be the one and I’ve just met him sooner than I expected?

Would there be other men who came along and made her feel like this?

It didn’t seem likely, but what did she know? She was only finding her legs again.

“I don’t know what to say to... all of those big and vulnerable things you just said—”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“But I know you’re already important to me.” Whoa, making that admission out loud was like dangling over a ravine with one hand on a loose rock, and yet, his expression, the way his eyes snapped up and his jaw popped, kept her going. She wanted to make him feel the way his honesty had made her feel. Like someone’s first choice. “I think I knew you were important a lot earlier than now, I just can’t remember when it happened. Second, I think if some punk ass college kid asked me out, I think saying yes to him would feel... wrong. Because of how we, you know, carry on. But I can’t do anything about us being a porn category.”

Burgess looked away, then down at the ground while stroking his chin. When he looked back up at Tallulah, he was fighting a smile. “I guess it’s a start.”

“Maybe,” she whispered. “I’m going to go jump in some freezing cold water now.”

“How about you walk into some freezing cold water, Tallulah? I’m not going to be happy if you land on a rock and get hurt.”

She turned on the ball of her foot, throwing him an inviting look over her shoulder on her way to the pond’s edge. “It’s not too late to join me,” she called. “Forever is composed of nows. Dickinson said that. It’s the one time English Lit piqued my interest.”

He smirked. “I’ll be ready and waiting to warm you back up.”

“I thought you just said warming me up was against the rules.”

“I meant I’d wrap you up in towel. Like a burrito.”

“I bet that’s a porn category, too.”

His deep chuckle inspired a raw tug between her thighs and she almost—almost—blew off skinny dipping, so she could turn around, run to Burgess, leap into his arms and agree to be his girlfriend. He’d reward her so well for committing, but her mind and gut weren’t fully convinced yet that being someone’s girlfriend was the right thing to do at this precarious stage in her life. Her heart was another story, but she’d ignore that traitor for now.

Tallulah stopped a few feet from the water and took a deep breath. She looked back to find Burgess pacing in the headlights of his truck, arms crossed. Wouldn’t the man meant to be with her forever... want to take these adventures, too? Would he really remain on the shore?

This moment is for you. Be in the moment.

Before she could think too hard about the water temperature, Tallulah set aside the worry for another time and dropped the towel, walking straight into the pond. “Oh. Oh God,” she gasped, even as she plowed forward. “Oh God. Oh God. I just have to get my shoulders under. That’s when it’ll stop feeling like death.”

She kept going, focusing on the rush of adrenaline, the shock to her system. Her pulse raced a million miles an hour, a sort of giddiness steeling up the walls of her throat and gluing her back teeth together. She embraced the feeling of freedom and mischief and simply being out in the open, living, breathing the night air and leaving fear to wither on the shore alone.

Fully submerged now, she turned over onto her back and let herself float in the moonlight, imagining herself from above, looking peaceful, free of the constraints of trauma. What Brett had done to her. In that moment, she didn’t feel like a hypocrite who made promises and didn’t keep them. She felt more awake than she had in a long time.

Tallulah let herself sink beneath the surface, the water muffling everything except the heartbeat in her ears, and rejoiced in the simple fact that it was working. That she was alive to jump into a pond or watch a baseball game. Dance and learn and travel.

She wouldn’t take that for granted anymore.

A few moments later, Tallulah surfaced and looked over at the bank to find Burgess waiting there, his arms crossed over her towel. While his stance was casual, something told her he was preparing to jump in and save her at a moment’s notice. This man. Whatever shape their relationship ended up taking, he’d joined her on these first steps to finding her sense of adventure again. Based on the way her heart kicked into triple time at the sight of him, so regal and large and reassuring and supportive in the moonlight, Tallulah started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was one of the destinations on her journey.

Was he the right one, though?

Every fluttering nerve ending in her body seemed to believe so. The organ caged inside of her ribs, as well, and how it knocked louder and faster as she swam in his direction was telling. So telling.

“You look like a mermaid out there,” he said, gruffly, then seemed to decide his statement sounded ridiculous, looking down and toeing the earth with his boot.

“Do you believe in mermaids, Burgess?”

“I believe I’ve watched The Little Mermaid four hundred times.” He shivered. “The real thing, though? No. You?”

She made a considering sound. “Ninety-five percent of the ocean hasn’t been explored. I think that’s a lot of room for secrets.” Slowly, Tallulah started to swim back to the shore, enjoying every ripple of water against her bare skin. “But more than anything, I think they were designed so that men had women to blame for shipwrecks or bad luck at sea. Surely these accidents couldn’t be a man’s doing. It must be a fish woman.”

A corner of his mouth jumped. “Some explorer refused to pull over and ask for directions. That’s what really happened.”

“Bingo.” Tallulah’s feet found the bottom on the pond, but she didn’t stand. “That being said, I do find the idea of mermaids very romantic. These beautiful creatures appearing to sailors.” She dragged her fingertips through the water in front of her. “Enchanting them so thoroughly they go totally off course.”

Burgess blew out a slow breath. “Right about now, I can commiserate.”

“Would I cause you to crash your ship, Burgess?”

“Into a million pieces.”

“Mmmm.” It wasn’t lost on Tallulah that his admission excited her even more than skinny dipping. More than... anything in recent memory. “Are you going to be a gentleman and close your eyes while I get out of the water?”

“Yes,” he said with conviction, but his chest was beginning to rise and fall.

“What would you be willing to do for a peek?”

“Fuck it,” he muttered, like a sailor accepting that he’d been tempted into steering his vessel toward the rocks. “Anything.”

That guttural confession caused an electric current to move through Tallulah. “If you had to pick something of mine to look at,” she murmured. “What would it be?”

“You mean, which part of you?”

Tallulah nodded.

Several charged seconds ticked by. “You realize that’s an impossible choice.”

She started whistling the Jeopardy theme song.

He dragged a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“Walk me through your decision-making process,” Tallulah suggested, having an inordinate amount of fun, every inch of her tingling, anticipating, her whole body seeming to hold its breath.

“Obviously it’s down to . . . two. Parts.”

“Tits and ass.”

“Oh yeah,” he growled, his gaze seemingly attempting to cut through the water. “I mean, for a minute there, I was considering something else. But I’m pretty sure that would end with you on all fours in the grass.”

The body part she assumed was in question clenched involuntarily, causing her breath to hitch. “You’re even blunter in the dark.”

“You have no idea.”

“Consider me warned.” Without waiting for him to respond, she swam in a meandering circle. “Which part of me?”

His chest dipped so low, she wasn’t sure it would ever rise again. “Let me see your tits.”

Either her body temperature had elevated, or the pond had turned into a hot tub. “Close your eyes while I’m getting out. I can’t have you getting a peek at everything .”

“You worried I might discover you have a fish tail?”

She honest to God giggled. “I think you would have noticed by now. You stare enough.”

“You make it impossible not to.” With a quick twist of his neck, he got into position, holding the towel open and closing his eyes. “Come out of there now. I’m tired of pretending it’s not making me anxious to watch you shiver. Get in these arms.”

“As you wish, Sir Savage.”

Fully trusting him to keep his eyes closed, Tallulah splashed and dashed out of the water, running straight into the open towel, groaning loudly when the warmth of the terry cloth, accompanied by the crush of Burgess’s arms, closed around her, rubbing to create friction and warmth on her skin. And the adrenaline rush burned a path up to her throat, turning her into a weightless jumble, a livelier, more daring version of herself that she loved and wanted to lean into. Explore.

Burgess had wrapped the towel around Tallulah in such a way that the opening was at the back, so she turned around and gathered it around her body, tucking the corners between her breasts. Then she brushed past a stone-silent and utterly rapt Burgess, their arms grazing together as she picked her way back toward the SUV, tossing him a come-hither glance over her shoulder, her blood pumping hotter when he followed.

She reached the vehicle first and opened the passenger side door the entire way, using the runner as an impetus to push herself up onto the seat and twist around, so her bare legs were dangling outside of the car. A lot like they’d been the night they kissed outside of Down. Burgess came closer, studying her with the kind of intensity that said he wanted the deal they’d made fulfilled. But that wasn’t going to happen. Not quite yet.

“Remember, I asked you what you would be willing to do for a peek?”

He kept coming until her knees were pressed against his stomach, his gaze riveted on the knot between her breasts. “It’s not enough that as soon as you lower that towel, I’ll probably have to call a doctor about an erection that won’t subside?”

“Funny you should mention doctors . . .”

His eyes shot to hers. “Tallulah. I already went.”

“And it’s still bothering you.” Slowly, she raised her arms up over her head like a ballerina. “If you promise to talk to the team trainer about treating the muscle strain... you can look.”

“This is the epitome of playing dirty.”

“Let’s call it incentivizing.”

He pressed a fist to his mouth and groaned. “Fuck. Fine. Done. Call it whatever you want, I’m not noble enough to turn it down.”

She arched her back slightly, planting her hands behind her on the seat. “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Savage.” Very slightly, she slid her knees apart. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about what you want to see.”

Burgess swiped a wrist over his upper lip to collect the sweat forming. “I told you how that would end.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Goddamn.” She actually heard the grind of his jaw. “You are a mermaid.” Both of his hands lifted, fingertips settling on the terry cloth knot, slowly beginning to loosen it and her nipples hardened so eagerly, pinpricks of light danced in her vision. “Because this is definitely going to wreck me.”

“And yet you can’t stop yourself.”

“God no.”

She gave him a slow wink. “Sorry, sailor.”

Expression rife with lust, he shook his head and tugged the towel open, exposing her breasts. He made a low, stifled sound, leaning down to explore them with a long look, his mouth falling open, as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. It took him several moments to look his fill, before letting go of the towel and slamming both hands onto the roof of the SUV, dropping his head forward as if gathering his control.

Maybe a few weeks ago, that kind of animalistic response would have scared her, but not with Burgess. He allowed her to feel safe while also vulnerable to her body’s needs and wants. And so she didn’t cover herself or feel an ounce of reservation. No, she leaned back and shook her breasts for him, excited by the way he started to pant, his right hand dropping, hesitating against the zipper of his jeans, before tearing it down and reaching inside.

Fisting himself.

Groaning up at the moon.

Beginning to stroke.

“I wouldn’t do this unless it was necessary,” he said, the words catching on rough inhales, grunts as his hand moved faster. Faster. “But it’s either fuck myself or fuck you before we have an understanding, so keep shaking them.”

It was like a dream, this scandalous moment in the pitch black, bouncing her breasts for her boss while he masturbated in his jeans, and she never wanted it to end. Her body had gone from cold to hot so fast, she was feverish, the flesh between her legs soaking wet—and not from swimming. From the continual seizing of her intimate muscles, the appeal of this giant man who made her feel naughty and cherished, in the space of one breath. She’d forced this tightly controlled man to relieve himself in front of her and the thrill was like a chemical eruption going off inside of her, wrecking her, too. Not just Burgess.

They never broke eye contact as her hand found its way beneath the bottom of the towel, her moan swallowed up by the nighttime sounds and Burgess’s grunts, fingers sliding through that moist, swollen part of her, refusing to tease herself for even a second, finding her clit instead and petting up, down, up down, then breaking into a firm rub of the spot, her mouth parting on gasp after gasp.

“You want to finger yourself, gorgeous, go ahead. But don’t you dare let me see that pussy or I’ll have to add ten more locks to your bedroom door.”

“You could still break the door down,” she managed, though her back teeth were glued together. “Couldn’t you?”

“Yeah. I could.” His hips moved, wedging between her knees, the muscle of his right arm flexing in the moonlight as he worked, worked, veins beating in his neck and he leaned down, pressing their foreheads together, his hot breaths battering her lips. “But I want you to unlock it for me, Tallulah. Open it and let me in.”

Pressure landed on her chest. Good or bad, she couldn’t tell, only that it was a lot. It called for a big decision when her head was in the clouds, propelled upward by arousal so potent she could hardly get a decent breath. “Open it?” She licked at his mouth, doing it a second time when he bared his teeth and growled. “Like this?”

She opened her thighs and drew back the towel, watching his eyes go molten as she sank two fingers inside of herself, pressed deep and lifted herself on top of those digits, grinding her hips, riding them with a whine of his name, her orgasm cresting and delivering.

“Burgess,” she gasped.

“Fucking . . . fuck! ” Burgess roared.

His body lurched forward, his hand moving in disjointed jerks, those huge hips shoving her legs wider, so wide, while her bare sex was bathed in his come, rope after rope of wet warmth landing on her there while he panted brokenly into her neck.

“More,” she whispered, licking the side of his face. “Cover me in it.”

“We both want more,” he said, turning his head so he could speak right on top of her mouth. “You ready to admit it’s the same type of more?”

That pressure returned to her chest, the weight of indecision. “Oh. I...”

Seconds passed and she couldn’t fill them.

“Uh-huh.” He looked her right in the eye while reaching down to grip her sex in a big hand. “When you’re ready to call me your man, I’m going to spit on this hot little cunt and call it mine before I fuck it. Go ahead. Lie and tell me you don’t want that.”

Yearning like she’d never experienced in her life powered through her system. It was unexpected and consuming, cleanly knocking the wind out of her. The chance that she might go without his full claim caused her stomach to shrink in on itself. “Do it,” she sobbed.

“When you’re mine.” Blue eyes blazed, before he slammed his lids shut. “For now, I want you to agree to come to my game. It’s not a lot to ask. I want to look into the stands and know you’re there because of me.”

“Fine. I’ll go. I’ll go. Just spit on me—”

“Soon.”

Tallulah made a sound of protest as Burgess drew himself up and off her, stumbling back a little while refastening his jeans, his forehead covered in sweat. They retreated to their corners for several minutes to recover from what had started as playful, but turned into something bigger. Something deeper, more permanent.

A pond she didn’t know if she was ready to wade into.