“I like the sound of that.” He tickles me under the arms and tosses me onto the bed. “But first, we need food. I was on my way to dinner when … You know.”

“When I assaulted you in the hallway?”

“Yes, exactly.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of bed. Chris throws on his jeans and grabs the room service menu before he starts to lead me to the couch that overlooks the city.

“Hold on, I’m grabbing a robe.”

“No! No clothes!”

I laugh but go to the bathroom and retrieve the soft white robe that is hanging there for guests. I shut the bifold doors by the tub. I may have just done a lot of things with Chris that I’ve never done with anyone else, but I don’t plan on having him watch me pee be the next one.

By the time I’m out of the bathroom, Chris is sitting on the edge of the oversize chair and ordering food for us. I sit down behind him, clasp my hands together over his stomach, and lean my head against his back. I listen to the rumble of his deep voice as he orders. He looks back, and I nod that the order is fine. I’m starving now. “Yeah, charge it to room 2021,” he says and hangs up. “Dinner’s on me.”

“Chris, you don’t have to do that.”

I bring my right hand to his back as he hangs up, and I pull away to admire again how toned and strong he is. And while he is these things, he is also vulnerable like we all are, proven by the two significant scars on his back. A broken line that starts from just below his left shoulder and ends midway down the right side of his back, a space of probably four inches or so between them.

I don’t really know if this is really one scar or two. I remember how he threw a shirt on by the lake, and suspect now that he was covering his scars the way I often cover my own. I realize that even though Chris and I have been plenty naked with each other, this is the first time I’ve seen or touched his scars, almost as if my hands knew where not to go while we were intimate. The texture is familiar to me because his scars feel like mine. He stiffens slightly as I touch his skin, and I understand this all too well. I tighten my hold around his waist, letting him know this is not a big deal.

He takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I totally forgot. That probably sounds crazy.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You know that.” I pat my left hand against his stomach, reminding him that I really do understand.

I’m still touching his scars. For some reason this is not a question that I want to ask, but I do anyway. “How did you get these?”

He takes my left hand in his and looks out at the view. The buildings are lit up and showing us a deep blue night sky. “Ugh, a skiing accident when I was a kid. The tips of skis are sharper than you think.”

I cringe. “Ow.”

“Ow, indeed.” As he pulls me onto his lap, he nods to the window. “Stellar view, huh?”

I look at him. “It certainly is.”

He smiles. “And this chair is very comfortable.” Chris moves his hand inside my robe, just under my breast.

“It is.”

“And that couch just screams possibilities, doesn’t it.” Now he has my nipple between his fingers.

The surge of desire that moves through me leaves me nearly incapacitated.

“After dinner, though. We need fuel.” Chris parts my robe more and leans in to sweep his tongue over my breast. “Sound good to you?”

I can only nod weakly in response. It may be the middle of the night, but I am wide awake.

CHAPTER NINETEEN Belonging

Waking up with Chris’s mouth between my legs, his tongue working against me hard, and finding that I’m halfway to orgasm is not a bad start to the day. At all. He went down on me last night, and I thought that I might absolutely combust. That first touch of his mouth to my clit was more than I could have imagined, and apparently he likes this as much as I do since he’s doing a damn spectacular job of hitting all the right places with all the right rhythms. Chris can read my body with shocking clarity.

He spreads me apart with his fingers and covers me with his mouth as he sucks on me slowly. I reach down and put my hand on his head and lift myself into him.

He pulls away slightly so that his mouth is barely touching my body, and he starts to kiss me lightly, just barely letting his lips brush against me. I run my hands through my hair as he parts me open again and traces his tongue over my clit. I’m moving against his mouth now as he puts his hands under me, squeezing me softly and letting his fingers wander. He lifts his tongue and moves down, pushing it inside me for a minute before moving even lower. I spread my legs apart more. I’m breathing hard, practically panting, and I can feel my orgasm coming.

I move to put myself in his mouth again. “You ready?” he asks, and takes my moaning as a yes. “Good. Because I can’t wait any longer to taste you while you come.”

Those words alone almost do the trick.

His tongue is on me again, and he drives his fingers deep inside me, hard. My muscles tighten and I can barely breathe. His mouth and hand are moving perfectly, bringing me closer and closer to the edge, and he’s got total control over me now. It feels like forever that he keeps me on that delicious brink of ecstasy that he gives me just before I come. This? This I cannot do to myself. And then Chris moves just a little faster until I explode. He lightens the pressure as I start to throb against his mouth. I can’t believe how hard I’m coming, how much I’m trembling, how loud I am. He lifts his mouth and gently rubs me with his fingers, making sure I get to enjoy this fully.

And although I’ve just had the most incredible, satisfying orgasm, and I can hardly see straight, I want more.

I’m still dizzy and breathing hard when he kisses his way up my body. “You and your pussy are fucking delicious.”

“Wait …” I’m still half asleep, but I’m alert enough to realize that he’s fully dressed. “Why are there clothes? Stop it with all the clothes-wearing nonsense.”

He kisses me again. “I have to go. I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“Sabin?” I ask.

“Yeah. Dinner at seven tonight, okay?” He pauses. “So I’ll be here at five.”

I smile. “Five is good. Hope things go well today.”

“Go back to sleep, sweet girl.” He pulls the comforter over me and kisses me on the cheek.

I sleep until after one in the afternoon. Getting laid until all hours of the night is evidently exhausting. After I shower and get dressed, I text James. I’m not ready to fake a friendly chat, but I don’t want to cut off communication with him. Housekeeping knocks on the door, and I decide that if ever a room needed cleaning, it’s this one.

Besides, I’m starving. The hotel lounge has a nice lunch menu, so I head down there and inhale a sandwich and then ask for the largest cappuccino they’ll make me. Then I order another one.

I’ve only been awake for a short time, but I check the time because I cannot wait until five o’clock. It’s impossible to stop smiling like an idiot, so I hold my phone in front of me to give anyone nearby the impression that I am wildly amused by some stupid regretsy post.

An e-mail comes through. One I’ve been hoping for. Annie has written me back. A long, thoughtful, amazing response to mine. She is heartbreakingly understanding, and not only does she not blame me for pushing her away, but she even confesses that to some degree what I did was a relief. I remind her of my mom in the same way that she reminds me of my mom. We can recover from that, though, she says. She promises. Annie insists that we talk on the phone—soon if I’m up for it, but later if that’s what I need.

I’m tempted to call her right then, but I decide to move slowly. My e-mail reply to her is full of relief, and joy, and assurances that I will call soon. And I will.

I look around the hotel lounge. Spending money on this place is obscene and unnecessary. Normally I am not a particularly self-indulgent person, and if I hadn’t run into Chris here I suspect that I would have moved myself to a much cheaper place after a few nights when the amount of money I was wasting hit me. As it is, I am going to make peace with spoiling myself this week. Not everyone has the opportunity to escape into a hotel fantasy life for a week, and I am grateful that I can do this for myself. Especially at a place like this. The Madison Grand is very modern, but still cozy and comfortable, and there’s something sexy about it. Of course, everything seems sexy to me right now. I check out the potted tree a few feet away. Okay, good, I do not find the tree sexy at all, so I have not entirely gone off the deep end.