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It takes a moment, a few seconds too long, for him to carry me into the kitchen and set me down on the countertop. My brain isn’t working anymore, but I really don’t care. I’m at the perfect height to wrap my legs around him again, so his groin is level with mine. His hand is back where I need it, his fingers inside me, his thumb on the knot that burns with desire. He curls his fingers, hitting a spot inside me that makes me whimper. The muscles in my abdomen contract; it won’t be long now. Heat in my center, between my legs, but it’s not enough. None of this is enough; I don’t want to come like this. I want him inside me.

“Phoenix,” I beg, pulling him closer to me. “Please.” There’s still too much clothing, jacket, sweater, dress . . . I need to feel his skin on mine.

He pulls away from me again, and it feels like falling, but only briefly, just long enough for him to get a condom and unbutton his jeans. I slip off my coat, at least, before taking the little plastic packet from his hand. Then a stifled curse escapes his lips as I slip the condom over him. His cock twitches in my hand, and I slide forward to the edge of the counter. He’s right there with me in one fluid motion, and we both hold our breaths as I take him inside me.

Silence.

A moment of complete stillness as his eyes meet mine and we just look at each other. Dark eyes, veiled gaze, burning desire. My lips move, forming his name, and whatever made him pause melts away. He thrusts into me, so deep it almost hurts, yet it feels insanely good. I moan and meet him halfway.

What we’re doing is fast and uncontrolled. We move against each other, into each other, clinging to each other, teeth and tongues colliding. Heavy breathing, heat and throbbing.

I moan loudly as he slides a hand between us, increasing the pressure on my clit with his fingers. Our rhythm quickens. We’re not in sync, and yet somehow we are. My whole body tenses as he thrusts into me once more, another groan escaping his beautiful lips. I breathe him in, let him go, brace myself on the smooth surface beneath me, and lift my hips. The angle is suddenly different. He groans, and I lose control. I come with a stifled cry, biting his lower lip to suppress it, and maybe that’s what pushes him over the edge too. My muscles contract and twitch; I lose it, and so does he.

Phoenix comes just a few seconds after me, burying his hands in my hair and his face on my neck.

I wrap both arms around him and pull him even closer. His heart is pounding against mine. I have to smile, it just happens. It feels frighteningly real. We hold each other tight until our hearts have slowed down, until our muscles feel soft and heavy.

Only then does he pull out of me and remove the condom. I feel strangely dizzy and a little disoriented until he’s back next to me. He gently places both hands around my face and leans over me, his mouth brushing mine, lightly and tenderly.

“Ophelia,” he whispers against my lips, and this feels so special.

All of it.

Him.

Me.

Us.

Chapter 29

Phoenix

My heart skips a painful beat as the bathroom door opens and Lia comes out, followed by a wave of warm air. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts, which reaches the middle of her thighs. It looks too good on her, and something about the combination of my shirt, a lot of bare skin, and the long, wet strands of hair sticking to her neck makes my cock twitch again immediately.

She blushes when she notices I’m watching her. She smiles, and her green eyes light up, and it has such a strong effect on me that I almost can’t admit it.

“Hey,” she says, and the husky tone in her voice sends a warm shiver up my spine.

I reach out a hand to her. “Come here.”

Lia doesn’t hesitate for a second before her fingers close around mine. I pull her onto the bed, and she sinks down on top of me with her legs spread. I groan as I feel her heat. She’s not wearing anything but the T-shirt, and all I have on are boxer shorts. So we’re even.

She breaks into a sly grin and tilts her hips, and a moan escapes my throat, a sound I’ve never heard myself make before. This girl is killing me.

“Are you okay?” she asks, looking innocent. I take her by the hips and pull her a little higher, right onto my throbbing erection.

“Now I am,” I say, realizing that it’s true.

Her grin becomes a soft smile. She strokes my chest with her fingertips, a delicate touch that makes my skin break into goose bumps. She smiles a little more when she feels my muscles tense, and then all at once her smile fades.

“What’s wrong?” I say, even though the moment I ask, I’m afraid of her answer.

Her gaze captures mine, firm and unyielding. “Tell me why you left Boston and went to New York.”

I freeze. Somehow that’s the last thing I expected her to say.

Don’t tell her. If she knows, she’ll look at you like everyone else. Then everything will get more complicated than it already is. Don’t. Tell. Her.