He growled my name above my head as he lost control of his steady motion and began to practically grind himself into my mouth. I cupped the sensitive spheres that hung heavy between his strong thighs in my hands and rolled them lightly across my palms. That was all it took to push him over the edge.

He didn’t warn me. He didn’t give me the choice to stay or go. He didn’t do anything but pull me closer and hold me to him in an almost desperate motion as he pumped into my mouth. He said my name on a long sigh as I moved my hands to either side of his hips and took what he was giving to me.

When he stilled and I pulled back with a smug grin on my face, I thought he was going to tell me that it had been fun but now we needed to haul ass to get back on track for the day. I wasn’t expecting him to pull me to my feet or for him to forcibly back me into the bed. His eyes blazed at me with winter-colored fire and I lost all the air in my lungs when he pulled the borrowed T-shirt over my head and made himself at home between my legs.

I was already wet but at the first kiss of his mouth against my tender folds I went torrential. Bringing him pleasure and knowing I was the one that had made him lose control had me at the edge of coming already, so he wasn’t going to have to do much to get me the rest of the way there. I moaned at the ceiling and felt no shame in writhing against his working mouth to get some kind of relief for the coiled tension that was tight throughout my entire body. Sucking a guy off had never been such a turn-on. It was my turn to twine my fingers in his thick, blond hair and pull him closer to me as I rode his mouth like it was a carnival ride. When he added his fingers to the party and used his teeth on my already primed clit, I burst across his thrusting fingers with a flood of desire that felt like it would never end.

When the heaving chests and racing hearts started to slow, I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked at him as he pulled himself up so that he was standing between my splayed legs as he tucked his shirt into his pants and refastened his belt. He looked a little rumpled and a little sexed up, but in my personal opinion it made the suit that much sexier. He bent over me and braced himself on his hands so that our noses were almost touching.

“Everything in my life is always about who has what or who is trying to get what from someone else. Every day it’s who did this or who did that and it gets really fucking old, Avett. I don’t want there to be a set of checks and balances between us.”

I gulped a little bit and reached up so I could put a hand on his smoothly shaved cheek. “You know that isn’t possible, right? We do not come from the same place.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and I shivered at the chill that emanated from them. “Maybe not, but when we’re in bed together, we are definitely in the same place. It’s not what you have that matters here, and it’s not what I have that matters. All that matters is what we have together. Where you’ve been and what you’ve done don’t exist here and the same goes for me. The only thing that counts is that we’re here and what we do while we are in this moment.”

I moved my thumb so that I could stroke it across his lower lip. It was still damp and shiny from the very thorough loving he had just bestowed upon me. That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, but I knew the truth, and the truth was that everything we did before mattered, and he and I would never be on equal footing, even in bed. He was an executive, and while I wasn’t exactly an intern, there was definitely room for upward movement. Whenever I was with him I felt like I was learning something new—about him, about myself, and most definitely about what sex and intimacy could be like, if you weren’t using it to hurt.

“You have to get to work and I already made you late.” It wasn’t what he wanted; I could see that in his eyes as they went a colder shade blue as he pulled himself up and off of me. I didn’t have much to offer a man like Quaid Jackson, so the truth was going to have to suffice, even if it made him look at me like he regretted not letting me fire him from the beginning.

“SO THE LAWYER? What’s going on there?” My mom’s voice was curious but also cautious as she asked me the question. I could see her hoping my answer was that I’d finally found a man that would keep me out of trouble, but the more time I spent with Quaid, in bed and out of it, I realized he was the biggest trouble I had ever waded my way into. The fall when things imploded with him might very well be the end of me.

I barely heard her over the disbelief and wonder that had me stunned stupid and stuck on the spot as I gazed at the bounty of stuff that was covering the small twin bed that had been mine whenever I stayed with her when I was younger. I hadn’t been inside of this room since I was a teenager and to see it covered in clothing and essentials from top to bottom had me overwhelmed with emotion.

I had a hand to my throat and was fighting really hard to blink back tears as I turned to look at her. “I can’t believe they did this. I can’t believe they cared enough to do something so nice after I’ve been nothing but terrible to them.”

There was no need to raid my mom’s closet for the bare essentials because all of the girls that belonged to all of my father’s boys had shown up in full force with every single thing I would need to survive the loss of everything I owned. There were more clothes than I owned before the fire, some new with visible tags and some worn and comfy looking. There were shoes and socks. There were undergarments that ranged from practical to sassy. There was stuff that looked soft and welcoming to sleep in. There was makeup and junk for my hair. There was a brush and hair dryer. There was a toothbrush. I hadn’t even thought about the fact I would need a toothbrush, until this morning, when I had to use my finger to brush my teeth at Quaid’s place.

The girls had gone out of their way to make sure I had a little bit of everything I lost, and I was so touched, so humbled, that I couldn’t even function. My mom put her hand on my arm and I looked at her as she smiled at me.

“Your father has a knack for finding the good ones, and those girls …” She spoke about the wonderful women that had done this for me, and I saw something in her face that I never saw when she talked about me or to me—pride. “They have some of the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. They have to in order to put up with those stubborn and wonderful men they chose to love.”

I cleared my throat awkwardly, and told her, “I’m not sure how I’ll ever be able to thank them for all of this. I feel like it’s too much. I don’t deserve this type of kindness from any of them.”