This is it.

This is that make-me or break-me moment.

He comes back up the length of my body, peppering my stomach and breasts with soft kisses. “Just feel,” he says against my lips before moving back down. He laps at my breasts then sucks my nipples. I curve into him, threading his hair between my fingers. The light stubble that covers his jaw line feels amazing against my skin.

He moves down, brushing his lips over my stomach. I know where he’s going, and I want it . . . I want him. He slips down out of my reach, kissing between my thighs. I whimper, buckling under him. I literally ache for more.

His mouth works me perfectly, sucking, teasing with his tongue. The build-up from everything else he’s done only allows me seconds before the familiar tingle has me breathing faster, gripping the sheets tightly. Lapping. Sucking. He’s pushing me up Mt. Everest. I wrap my legs around him, throwing my head back as the orgasm rips through my body.

“Oh God!” I scream as the last current flows through me.

My body is pliant. He traces his tongue up my stomach between my breasts, and when he kisses me, I remember why.

“I love hearing you scream.” He nibbles on my neck, brushing his palms over my nipples.

He sits up, staring down at me. “Eyes on me.” I watch as he picks up a condom from the side of the bed, carefully rolling it on his hard length.

Something inside me shifts. I realize that for the last few minutes, it wasn’t Pierce between my legs. It wasn’t Pierce who’d carved his way into my subconscious. Old wounds haven’t healed enough to allow new ones.

Tears fill my eyes. What have I done? What am I doing? This girl is lost somewhere in a dark, unforgiving hole . . . and she just wants out.

I feel him at my entrance, and I panic, bracing my hands against his chest. “Stop! Please, stop!” I yell.

He’s paralyzed, looking down at me with concerned eyes. “Am I hurting you?” he asks, his voice trailing off.

“Yes,” I say honestly.

He flinches.

“It’s not what you think.” I pause, squeezing my eyes shut to hide from the disappointment in his eyes. “I’m not ready. I thought I was, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

He lifts off my body, withdrawing from me. The tears spill over. God, I hate this . . . all of it. Why couldn’t I have fallen for Pierce first? What if he would have asked to see me again when we got off the plane? What if I would have called him sooner? Life is a bunch of stupid what ifs.

“Does this have to do with him?” Pierce asks, standing with his back to me.

I could lie. Tell a figment of the truth, but I’m already lying naked in his bed. There’s no point in hiding.

“Yes.”

THIS HAS TO BE THE WORST silence I’ve ever experienced. Like a coward, I don’t want to wait to see his reaction. I carefully scoot to the edge of the bed until my feet hit the cold, hard floor. The room is dark, and my clothes are scattered everywhere. I pick up my bra and panties near the foot of the bed and put them on as fast as I can with trembling fingers.

My dress is in a heap on the floor where Pierce slid it off me. It was so hard to squeeze into in the first place; there won’t be anything quick about putting it back on.

“Here,” Pierce says, tossing me his dress shirt. I eye it curiously, not sure what he expects. “You’re just across the hall. I’m sure you can make it without anyone seeing you.”

I roll the soft cotton between my fingers, hating him for being so casual and mature about this.

I quietly watch him pull his pants back on, not bothering with his belt. I want him to yell, tell me I’m ridiculous for letting myself fall for Blake. He’s thinking it. He has to be thinking it.

Nervously, I slip my arms in and then fumble with the buttons. The first tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. I don’t want to be this woman I’ve become, and I can’t rely on a man to find me.

“Will you let me help you?” I hadn’t even noticed Pierce standing in front of me. I let my hands fall away from the buttons. God, why won’t he just yell at me and get it over with. I need it to erase some of my guilt.

He takes my non-answer as acceptance, buttoning the shirt to cover my exposed body. His fingers brush my skin a couple times, a painful reminder of everything that just happened. I should want a man like Pierce Stanley, and I’m angry with myself because I don’t. Not in the way he wants me.

When the shirt is perfectly in place, he cups my face in his hands, forcing my eyes to his. “I need you to know that you’re making a mistake. When you finally come to realize that, I hope it’s not too late.”

I shut my eyes tightly. It’s my only escape. “Some choices we don’t get to make.”

“Then how am I supposed to win?” he asks, his warm breath hitting my cheek.

Warm tears fall down each cheek. “I don’t know if you can.”

I open my eyes to find him looking down at me. In another time, Pierce could have made me happy. There’s no doubting that.

He rubs his thumb across my lower lip. My chest tightens. I hate what I’m doing to him . . . I hate feeling like I lead him on. “Promise me something, Lila.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t become someone you aren’t just to be with him.”

I nod against his touch, but I know it’s too late. Blake’s already turned me into someone I don’t like. Pierce deserves better than that. “Goodnight, Pierce.”

“Goodnight.” He kisses my forehead before letting me go.

I head straight for the door, picking up my purse along the way. I don’t want to look back, but I do anyway. He hasn’t moved from where I left him, standing with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Thank you for tonight.” I attempt to smile, but I’m sure I look ridiculous with tears falling at the same time.

Without another word, I open the door, and make my way across the hall. When I’m finally shut inside my room, I crumble to the floor. For what could have been minutes, or maybe hours, I fall back to the heartbroken woman I was months ago. This time, I have no one to blame but myself.

Blake warned me. I didn’t listen.

Pierce offered to catch me, but I’d already fallen.

The worst thing to wake up with is guilt. My swollen, tired eyes remind me of everything that happened last night. Dinner. The kiss. Dessert. Everything after. It all plays over and over again until I don’t even recognize myself.

Rolling to look at my clock, I realize I only have forty-five minutes until Pierce and I have to meet with Wade.

I tie my hair up and turn on the shower as hot as I’m able to handle, letting the steam fill the room as I unbutton Pierce’s shirt. I didn’t have the strength to take it off last night after my meltdown. Besides, it still carries that scent that always seems to comfort me, which only compounds my guilt. In a way, I used him. I took from him when I had nothing to offer in return.

Closing my eyes, I let the stream of water beat down on my face. I remember the expression on Pierce’s face when I told him to stop. If I let myself, I can still feel his skin on mine, and it disgusts me, because when he was with me, I was with Blake.

Not able to take anymore, I quickly dress, not too concerned about how I look. When you feel like a rainstorm just pounded your heart, it’s hard to look like anything less than that happened on the outside.

I untie my hair, pinning it into a more professional bun and do my best to cover the circles under my eyes.

I grab my luggage and coat, ready to make the journey to the lobby. When I pull the door open, Pierce is standing against the wall. My heart skips a beat or two. He’s well dressed, as always, in a gray suit with a lavender button-up underneath. I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t look away. If we could go back a month—before Blake—Pierce would be a force I couldn’t resist. I loathe myself for having to distance myself from him because I’m glued to the one person I should have stayed far away from.