"I'm a motivated man."
I bite my lip, pretending to consider. "We should probably start with the bathroom, then. Make sure the plumbing works."
"Practical."
"I'm a practical woman."
"You're a fucking tease is what you are."
I grin and slip out of his grip, walking backward toward what I assume is the bathroom. "Coming?"
He stalks after me like I'm prey, and God, why does that make everything clench?
The bathroom is ridiculous. White marble everything, a rainfall shower big enough for four people, and a freestanding copper tub that looks like it belongs in a magazine. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the Chicago skyline.
"Jesus," I breathe.
"You like it?"
I turn to find him right behind me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "You're insane."
"Probably." His fingers find the hem of my sweater. "This needs to come off."
I raise my arms, letting him pull it over my head.
"Your turn," I say.
He yanks his shirt over his head in one motion. The scar from his bullet wound is still pink and healing across his chest, and I trace it with my fingertips before I can stop myself.
"Does it still hurt?"
"Only when you're not touching me."
I roll my eyes. "That was terrible."
"Worked though." He catches my hand and presses it flat against his chest, right over his heart. "Feel that?"
His pulse pounds against my palm.
"I feel it," I whisper.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands working at my jeans while mine fumble with his belt. We're a mess of tangled limbs and desperate touches, clothes hitting the marble floor in a trail of fabric.
When we're both naked, he presses me against the cool wall, and I gasp at the temperature contrast.
"Wrap your legs around me."
I do, and he lifts me like I weigh nothing, positioning himself at my entrance. His forehead drops against mine.
"You ready?"
"Nico."
He pushes inside me in one slow, devastating stroke, and my head falls back against the marble. The angle is different like this—deeper, more intense—and I dig my nails into his shoulders as he starts to move.
"Look at me," he commands.
I force my eyes open, meeting his dark gaze as he fucks me against the wall of our bathroom. Our bathroom. Our loft.
