“Hurry back to me, darlin’.”

Without too much fanfare, I untangle my body from his, instantly missing the warmth of his touch. I hear him laugh as I pull the sheet with me as I stand and I turn to glare at him, but stumble on my feet instantly. My glare vanishes and my jaw drops.

I should have considered, possibly, that it wasn’t the best idea to take the only sheet we had with me. All I thought was that there was no way I wanted to parade through his very bright bedroom with all my jiggly bits on display. But, I didn’t think because in nabbing that sheet, I left him—all of him—on display and he’s loving every second of this. Very obviously.

My eyes go from his erection to his face a few times, not stopping to enjoy the deliciousness in between. Just like a tennis match, crotch to head and back again. My eyes widen when his laughter picks up and that beautifully huge erection of his bobs up and down. Just jumping around like a Mexican jumping bean or something. There wasn’t any going back to his eyes after that. My gaze was trapped on his cock and it would take an act of God to change that.

“Keep looking at me like that and we’re going to have issues,” his voice grumbles.

I lick my lips and all his laughter stops. But my eyes never leave his crotch. Jesus, is he getting harder?

“Megan,” he warns.

I don’t move. My hands itch where I have the sheet clamped tight against my chest and I have to shift from foot to foot with the building pressure between my legs. He is getting harder.

“Lick your lips like that again and I won’t be able to hold back.”

His voice sounds strained. Well, hell, judging by how angry his cock looks, I would guess strained is a pretty fair assumption.

“Megan,” he barks and I jump slightly. “Bathroom. Now. We need to talk before I fuck you and if you keep this shit up there won’t be any of the former. Just a lot of fucking.”

I nod then lick my lips. When I hear him make some kind of animalistic noise deep in his throat, I jump, spin and run to the bathroom.

I make quick work of the toilet, wash my hands and attempt to do something with my wild hair. When I look at myself in the mirror I want to puke. My eyes are swollen from crying most of the night; little, puffy red bags making them look small and beady. My nose is red and my lips are slightly chapped.

I look like a hot mess.

And Liam—no Lee—still wanted me. A lot.

I smile to myself when I think about what calling him Lee does to him. The second I used his nickname, something I have never done because I felt like by not using it I could keep some more distance between us, he came alive and the reward was so great that there is no way I’m going back to Liam.

My gaze falls from my face and I look around the counter. I see his toothbrush resting in a cup next to the sink. The toothpaste on the other side, neatly capped and not a mess like some people leave theirs. A girly looking bottle of hand soap, that I know deep down either came from his mom or Dani. No way he would have something like that. Lee strikes me as the kind of man that would have a bar of off brand soap, but not high-end girly stuff.

Shifting on my feet, I worry my lip and try to figure out the whole smelly breath, yucky teeth, situation I have myself in right now.

“Megan,” Lee barks from the other side of the door. “Did you fall in?”

I take a deep breath, hike the sheet tighter and turn to open the door. He hasn’t moved from his bed, his hands folded behind his head and that gloriously hard cock still standing at full attention.

“Stop,” he warns and my eyes shoot to his. He studies my face for a second before speaking. “What’s bothering you, darlin’.” His tone is soft, comforting.

He starts to come up, his elbow digging into the mattress as his feet uncross and he starts to swing his frame from where he had been resting. I hold my hand up and he pauses.

“I, uh, well . . . okay. I know you’re a single guy living alone and all, but sometimes single guys stock up and like to be prepared. I mean, I’m prepared, but I have Molly so it makes sense to have, like, ten of everything—”

I snap my mouth shut when he lifts off the bed and prowls toward me. He moved so quickly that one second he was in the bed, and the next he was standing in front of me with his hands resting right where my back meets the swell of my ass.

“Breathe,”

I do and he smiles.

“Not single,” he states and I feel my brow wrinkle. “Darlin’, wasn’t alone in that bed last night. I. Am not. Single.”

“Oh,” I say on a sigh.