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Skin slaps against skin. Bruising thrusts. The initial sparks of an orgasm.

“That’s not…” Is it true, though? I can’t think straight right now. “I don’t know.”

Yes, you do. He’s right. You do know.

“You need me, Dean.” He’s pounding me hard now. My asshole spasms around his thickness. “Not because you need help with your kid, but because I’m the only person who’s ever been able to give you the things you can’t admit you want. The pleasure you try so hard to deny yourself.”

“I—” God, it’s true, isn’t it? This thing between us has stretched on for years because nobody else has come close to making me feel the way he does. “Mike.”

If I weren’t suddenly so close to coming I’d wonder why his name came straight from my throat in such a loud, needy whine.

He pushes up, bringing his hand to my cock and stroking insistently.

“Come on, baby. Let yourself go.”

“Argh!” The way my back bows, the way I clutch at his hips, it would be embarrassing if I weren’t riding the wave of the best damn nut of my life.

“God,” I whisper as I come down. “God, that was too loud.” But what I’m thinking is, God, that was amazing.

It was so fucking amazing. For this one moment, my body is loose and sleepy and there’s no tightness in my chest, no snakes in my belly. No cold pressure inside my ribs.

So even though I shouldn’t, I wrap my arms around him and hold him there, letting my breathing even out and pretending it’s got nothing to do with this man and how he makes me feel.

How he really makes me feel.

And the way my chest swells when he whispers the words “good boy” into my ear? That’s a problem for another day.

Another bead of moisture threatens to sneak out from the corner of my eye. I brush it away.

When he climbs off of me to get cleaned up, I pull a pillow over my face, unable to handle the things it might show him. Which is why I don’t notice what he’s doing until it’s too late.

Something hard presses against my cock, surrounding it. A clicking nose.

My runaway emotions screech to a halt. I pull the pillow away and sit up to look. “Are you serious right now? You put a f—” I shake my head, unable to believe what I’m seeing and feeling. He’s got my cock in a damn cage.

“Get that thing off of me.”

There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, but also something darker. His jaw is set, his eyes swirling. “Remember when I told you I’d punish you?”

“This is—” Oh, hell no. “You can’t fudging do this, Mike. I have work. I’ve got a date with Vivica Ardent tonight.”

He’s pulled his shorts on, but his chest is still bare, his shirt clutched in his hand. He smiles slightly.

“Oh, no. Too bad you won’t be able to stick it to that pretty heiress.” He crawls over me, pressing a kiss to my jaw that I’m too stunned to brush away. “Whatever will you do?”

“Give me the damn key, Michael. I’m not playing. What the hell am I supposed to do with this thing on me?”

His right eyebrow lifts in that way it does. His face is projecting don’t fucking try me.

“You’re smart enough to figure this out, baby. I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he says.

What the heck? Is he messing with me right now?

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I ignore it, but he leans over to read the text.

“Your father’s texting. Block him, Dean. He’s a user and he doesn’t deserve access to you anymore.”

I’m too focused on the problem at hand to consider the command. “You can’t leave me like this.”