Angelina barely had time to park her car before Micah opened her door and urged her out. To her utter shock, he swept her up into his arms and started carrying her toward the door to his apartment.

“Micah, I can walk,” she said with a laugh.

He ignored her and kept walking. Not really wanting to argue the point, because she was in his arms after all, she sighed and snuggled into his chest.

Exhaustion beat at her temples, and her limbs felt heavy and laden. She wanted to sleep for about twelve hours, preferably in Micah’s arms, but she wasn’t fooling herself over that possibility.

He was horrified over what happened. The guilt in his eyes made her gut clench. For a guy who prided himself on his iron control, what had happened wasn’t just a presumed betrayal of her but also of himself.

She couldn’t feel bad, though. She’d never reach him as long as that control was in place. And she still shivered over the raw power he exhibited when he’d taken her.

Taken her. It seemed so tame a term to describe it. He’d owned her. Possessed her. She’d been completely and utterly his, his possession to do what he wanted with.

Desire and lust simmered and burned low in her abdomen despite her thinking she couldn’t possibly be aroused again.

She’d loved his touch. His power. The way he hadn’t asked. He’d simply taken what he deemed his.

She shivered again as he elbowed his way into the apartment.

“Are you cold?” he asked in concern.

She shook her head. “No, just remembering.”

He stiffened, and the tortured look returned to his face. She started to correct his assumption that it was a bad remembrance for her, but he set her down on the couch and immediately went about removing her shoes.

“I’m going to go start a hot shower for you,” he said in a low voice. “It’ll make you feel better. Take your time. Are you hungry? Do you want me to fix you something to eat?”

She smiled. “The shower sounds heavenly, and no, I’m not hungry.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

She watched him stride away, his face creased into lines of worry. With a sigh, she sank against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. Always, always she’d known that sex with Micah would be nothing short of amazing.

She craved that darker edge, the thin line between right and wrong. He was all she wanted, and she wanted him as he was—dark, brooding, unapologetic—not as he thought he should be. She wanted to be his.

Angel?”

She opened her eyes to see Micah standing over her, concern bright in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can still take you to the hospital. Are you hurting anywhere?”

Boy, were they going to have a long talk when she got out of the shower. This guilt complex was quickly fraying her nerves.

She reached out so he could help her up, and he quickly took her hand and gently pulled her to a standing position. Ignoring his question entirely, she went toward the bathroom, her need for gallons and gallons of hot water outweighing her desire to kick Micah’s ass.

The bathroom mirrors were already fogged up, and she let out a blissful sigh as she stripped down and stepped into the shower. For a long moment she stood in the spray, eyes closed as she relieved the sensation of Micah’s hands on her, his cock inside her and the most intense orgasm of her life. She’d lit up like a firecracker the moment he thrust into her. She’d started coming and hadn’t stopped until he’d found his own quick release.

Realizing she’d spent a long time in the shower and Micah was probably wearing a hole in the carpet in the living room, she turned off the water and stepped out to dry off. She’d just gotten the towel wrapped around her when the door opened and Micah stuck his head in.

After a quick glance, presumably to see if she was halfway decent, he shoved into the small bathroom.

“You were taking a long time. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said gruffly.

With a sigh she let the towel drop so that she stood nude before him. He took a hasty step backward, and she almost rolled her eyes. It wasn’t as though she was going to jump him.

“I’m fine. See?”

She turned in a circle so he could see her body for himself.

She couldn’t control the quiver when his fingers brushed across a faint bruise on her hip.

“I bruised you,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.

“I bruise very easily, Micah. You didn’t hurt me.”

When she’d turned back around fully, he took her hands and turned her wrists over. His thumb rubbed across the red lines left by the ropes, and his expression grew stormy.

“They tied them too tight. There was no need for them to hurt you. I should have stepped in and put a stop to it all.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked curiously.

He swallowed and looked away. Then he reached for the towel and carefully wrapped it around her.

“Go get something on. You can borrow my robe if you want. There’s a lot we need to talk about, and it can’t wait.”

She frowned at the urgency in his voice and reached for the robe hanging on the towel rack.

“I’ll be in the living room. Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”

“Go,” she said, shooing him with her hands.

He backed out of the bathroom, and Angelina dropped the towel to put her robe on, shaking her head the entire time. She gave her hair a thorough rub before she did a quick comb-through to rid it of tangles.

Fingering the strands from her face, she left the bathroom and returned to the living room, where Micah sat on the sofa, his elbows on his knees, his head down.

When he heard her, he looked up then stood.

“Sit down,” he urged.

She plopped onto the couch, careful to keep the robe gathered around her.

“Angel, I think we should take you to the ER.”

“But I’m not hurt!”

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“Yes, I know.”

Micah ran a hand through his hair. “Aren’t there shots they can give you? You know, so you don’t get pregnant? Or at least a pill you can take?”

She leaned forward, wishing he’d at least sit down instead of hulking over her so tense he looked like he’d implode at any moment.

“Micah, come sit down. Please.”

She patted the space beside her, and he hesitated before finally walking around to sit where she motioned.

“I get that you’re feeling guilty. I get that this whole night didn’t go at all like you thought it would or even wanted it to. But you’re making a lot of assumptions and you’re taking credit for sins you didn’t commit.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he muttered.

“I’m on birth control. I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t take chances like that. I also made damn sure those men I was playing with weren’t going to go too far. With or without a condom.”

“I didn’t give you the choice,” he said painfully.

She gave him a patient look. “I asked for what you gave me. I pushed you. I provoked you and got exactly the response I wanted. Despite what you might think, I’m not too young. I’m responsible, or mostly responsible,” she added with a slight twist of her lips.

“It’s not just about pregnancy. I didn’t protect you. I didn’t protect myself,” he added. “Goddamn it, Angel, I’ve never not worn a condom in my life. Even when I lost my virginity a lifetime ago, I wore protection.”

“I understand why you’re upset. I’m safe. I’ll understand if you don’t want to take my word for it. I can have whatever test you want. I’ve had unprotected sex once. I was a teenager. It was my first time. We both knew better, because God knows David drummed the concept of safe sex through my head often enough.” She smiled sadly. “He was always so much more of a father to me than our real father ever was. Anyway, I told him what happened. He was disappointed, but he immediately took me to the doctor so I could get a prescription for birth control, and he also bought me enough condoms to last a lifetime and told me I no longer had an excuse for not carrying them with me at all times.”