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It was as inexplicable as the sex.

Now awake, he propped his head on his hand and stared blankly at the framed poster on his wall. It was a photo of Diamond Head Volcano on Oahu. He’d wanted to see it in person since he was a kid. Ragged brown peaks punctured a blue sky and swam in turquoise water. Every time he looked at that poster he imagined hearing the waves, smelling the salt, and feeling the sun on his skin.

He glanced over at his houseguest, soundly sleeping next to him. As bad as he wanted to go to Oahu, sacrificing that trip for time with her had been worth it. He hoped she’d take a best friend or her mom. Anyone but a random dude or else he’d lose his mind.

He pulled in the first deep breath he’d taken since last night. The clock on his nightstand read eleven a.m. That was late for him. Even for a Saturday.

He’d been unconscious but still aware when she’d rolled over next to him. It’d been a while since he’d slept next to a woman. Usually a woman still being in his bed come morning would be enough to cause him to panic, but not with her. He’d been relaxed knowing where she was and that she was safe with him.

Hell, if someone would have told him a week ago that he’d wake up next to Lily McIntire on Saturday morning, he’d have sooner believed in the Tooth Fairy. Then again, he believed in a lot more things than he’d believed in a mere twelve hours ago…

She hummed softly in her throat. He admired those adorable freckles on her nose and the way her lashes lay against her cheeks. Beneath the covers, his dick bobbed. He couldn’t help it. Normally when he woke with a hard-on, she was on his mind. With her here in the flesh, there was no way to avoid it.

His memory replayed every sweet sigh that had exited her perfect mouth last night, the exact cadence of his name rolling off her tongue. The way her inner muscles had hugged him close as he finished fast and hard.

Fuck. That was a nice memory.

He reached under the blankets to adjust himself. He was going to have to think about something—anything—else if he wanted to calm down. He couldn’t ask for morning sex until he was sure she’d forgiven him for the pranks.

Couldn’t I?

She stretched next to him like a languid cat, her nipples pressing against the soft cotton of her T-shirt.

Prob’ly not.

He wound his finger around one of her curls. Her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning, McIntire.”

“Morning.” She rolled to face him, almost nose to nose. He wanted to kiss her on the lips—then lower. “Where’s my coffee?”

He chuckled.

“What if we did something else first?” He pulled her hips toward his and nudged her with his erection.

“Hmm.” She reached down between them and stroked his cock.

He gave in and kissed her like he’d wanted, first lightly, then deeply. Her tongue snaked into his mouth for a taste, and then she draped one leg over his. He cupped her ass, moving to pull her on top of him when she pressed a hand into his chest.

“Wait.”

Shit. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted to keep going before she remembered that he had acted like a childish butthead.

She slid her leg away and eased her hips back.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He was running out of time. He could feel it.

“You asked for coffee. Coffee and kisses. Always confuse those two.” The joke fell flat, or so he guessed since her expression hadn’t changed.

Even though she was lying inches from him, she was light-years away. He’d felt like this one other time, with his ex-girlfriend from four years ago. Annie had tolerated him before she’d grown to resent him. Hell if he knew why. He’d never cheated on her, had never pressured her to label what they were to each other. Then, one morning, he’d woken up next to her. She’d been awake, a similar expression to Lily’s on her face, when she’d said two words he’d never forget.

“Listen, Marcus…” Lily said.

Fuck. Those were the words.

After that Annie had dumped him, moved out, and they’d never spoken again. He wouldn’t allow Lily to do that to him. If that happened he’d…he’d… He didn’t know what he’d do. Explode? Die? Both?