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  I finished cleaning up and made my way through the apartment, following the sounds from the kitchen. I found Blake cracking eggs into a bowl. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of flannel pajama pants that hugged his hips. His hair was still thoroughly mussed and he wore a pair of dark rimmed glasses that amplified the sexiness of this early morning look. They made him look older and somehow more human, a Clark Kent quality.

  I leaned against the granite island and appraised his progress. He had cut up some fruit and laid bacon in a pan while he figured out the egg thing. My stomach did a little leap at the thought that he was doing this for me.

  He dropped what he was doing to wash his hands and turned to me. He smirked and traced the hem of my T-shirt.

  “I like this.”

  “I wasn’t trying to make a fashion statement, but I’m glad you approve.” I leaned back into the counter and tilted my head to the side. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

  “I don’t usually, but you kept me busy last night, so I forgot to take my contacts out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m not.”

  He lifted me onto the countertop and leaned into the space between my legs. His hands traveled up my thighs and under the shirt to my back where he stroked my skin, leaving trails of heat everywhere in his wake. I moaned when he found my breast and thumbed my nipple until it beaded under his touch. As he kissed me, his tongue delivered soft measured strokes that reminded me of the sweet, dull ache between my legs from last night’s marathon.

  “You’re turning me into a wanton harlot,” I said, feeling my entire body come alive with a different kind of awakening.

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

  He growled into my neck where he kissed and sucked, the vibration rippling through me. With one hand he caught my ankle and wrapped my leg around his waist, and with his other, massaged the tender flesh between my legs.

  “God, you’re already soaked.”

  “I can’t help it, Blake. You do this to me.” I leaned into the strokes of his hand.

  “I’m just getting started, baby.”

  He took my mouth as he pressed two fingers inside me, mimicking the motion of his fingers with his tongue, reducing me to a quivering mess. I clung to him desperately, my nails digging into his shoulder. My breath ragged and my heart pounding wildly, I held on as an orgasm ripped through me.

  His fingers slipped from me, and he adjusted the now sizeable erection tenting his pants. “I need to get a condom. I wasn’t expecting to fuck you for breakfast.”

  I giggled a little at the expression, delusional and hungry for more of him all at once. “We don’t need to, if you don’t want.”

  “Trust me, I want to fuck you for breakfast.”

  “No, the condom, I mean. I’m on the pill.”

  His silence sobered me momentarily. I tried to backtrack. “I’m sorry, it’s fine, I just assumed.” Shit, way to kill the moment.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I trust you. I just haven’t ever not used one.”

  “Forget it, I’m sorry.” Most guys complained about wearing them, but I felt even safer knowing he always did.

  “Stop apologizing to me, Erica,” he said harshly.

  I bit my lip, waiting to see where this would take us.

  “Good girl,” he said in a low predatory tone.

  He divested me of his T-shirt, revealing my bare chest. His eyes darkened. Before I knew it, he’d moved us to the living room, setting me on his lap so I straddled him naked on the long cream couch. I gave him a slow, lazy kiss, taking his glasses off and placing them safely on the table behind us.

  Blake lowered the band of his pants below his hips, freeing his cock, which in the bright daylight of the room looked more impressive than ever, thick and virile, waiting for me.

  Wanting to taste him, I slid onto my knees and closed my lips around the lush head. I fluttered tiny licks over the sensitive tip before taking him farther into my mouth. I sucked him greedily, forgetting myself as I worshipped him, until Blake’s grip on my hair tightened, stilling me.

  “Get on top of me,” he ordered.

  I shivered and my skin grew warm. The physical reaction I had to the demand was unmistakable. Slick with anticipation, I obeyed and climbed up.

  “Now slide down onto my cock. Nice and slow.”

  Aflame with anticipation, I lowered onto him with painstaking restraint, wanting to appreciate this new state. Nothing between us, he stretched me inch by delicious inch until he rooted inside me.

  I closed my eyes as a small whimper left my lips.

  “Look at me,” he whispered.

  I opened my eyes to see the raw hunger in his. He caught my face in his hands and kissed me hard. I moaned, steadying myself with my hands on his shoulders. He broke away, his breathing rough. He slid a finger down my cheek and over my collarbone, grazing my over-sensitive nipple and finally resting on my hip where he held me possessively. He looked up and held me in his gaze.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  The intensity in his eyes leveled me. My chest tightened. I was in too deep with Blake, but I didn’t care, not when he was inside me, touching me, looking at me this way. I couldn’t escape how he made me feel.

  I answered with a subtle swivel of my hips. With one arm he circled them, holding me in place as he changed his angle and thrust upwards, ramming hard giving me more of himself. I sucked in a sharp breath at the jolt of pain that came when he hit the end of me. The slight discomfort quickly gave way to pleasure when he massaged tiny circles over my clit.

  A fine mist swept over my skin as he pumped into me—steady and determined motions that made me momentarily forget my advantage in our present position. I met his movements, rolled into them until Blake loosened his hold, gradually giving me control. His hands flexed anxiously at my hips.

  “Trust me,” I whispered. Tightening around him, I scored my nails lightly down his chest and kissed him feverishly, sharing every breath that brought us to the brink, where we fell apart, together, never looking away from each other.

  ***

  I had fallen asleep on the couch after breakfast when we finally ate. Between last night and this morning’s exertions, I was exhausted. When I woke hours later, Blake was sitting on the other couch, his shiny black laptop resting on his thighs. He was a different Blake from this morning, fully dressed and looking intensely at the screen, typing with expert speed.

  “I thought you didn’t work at home,” I said, stretching out.

  “Just doing a little research.” He didn’t look up.

  “What kind of research?”

  He closed the laptop and set it to the side, his expression softening when our eyes met. “I think I found him,” he said quietly.

  “Who?”

  He folded his hands in his lap.

  Oh God. My stomach turned, threatening my breakfast. My thoughts were still foggy from sleep and now reeled as I processed what Blake had just told me.

  “How?” I sat up straight and tried to shake the cobwebs.

  “I pulled the transaction records from the restaurant. Specifically the bar. I narrowed it down pretty easily from there based on his age and alma mater.”

  “I don’t even want to know how you did that.” This was too much. He’d gone too far.

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on telling you anyway. How I found the information is far less important than the actual information, don’t you think?”

  “Why would you do this? It doesn’t even matter.”

  “You don’t think that identifying the man who raped you matters?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “At this point in my life, no. Why do I need a name for a face I’d rather forget?”

  “You could still press charges against him. You’re well within the statute of limitations.”

  “And what would I say? Hello, Officer, I was eighteen and drunk at a frat house when this asshole had his way with me. I bet
they’ve never heard that one before.”

  “What if he’s still doing this?”

  My throat became thick and tight at the thought. What if I wasn’t the only one? As much as I blamed myself for getting into such a perilous situation, deep down I knew no one deserved to go through what I did. I would have done almost anything to erase the painful memory from my past.

  Still, I wasn’t ready to face it. These memories, or him. The man who did this to me. Here Blake was forcing them onto me, shining a light on the details I’d given up hope of ever knowing. Now I didn’t want to know. I wanted nothing to do with any of it.

  I stood up quickly, but the sudden movement made me dizzy, nearly throwing me off balance as I made my way down the hall to the bedroom.

  “Where are you going?”

  Ignoring him, I disappeared into the bedroom. A teal sundress lay on the bed, which Blake must have collected from my place while I was sleeping. On top of it lay the lacy white panties that had gone missing in Blake’s Vegas hotel room.

  Damn it. I screwed my eyes shut, overwhelmed in every way. The past day with Blake had been amazing and intense. Being with him was conjuring feelings that I still wasn’t sure what to make of. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t think straight right now.

  I dressed quickly and grabbed the rest of my things. He met me in the doorway, blocking my way out.

  “Erica, don’t go.”

  “You had no right.”

  He frowned, lowering his hands from the doorway. “You’re telling me I had no right to find the man who hurt you?”

  “I don’t want to know who he is. Don’t you get that?” I tensed my jaw, blinking away the burn of the tears welling behind my eyes. I wished I could stay angry with him. When I looked into his eyes, all I saw was confusion, but I couldn’t expect him to understand.

  With trembling hands, I pushed past him. I hurried out and down the stairs. I paused at my door, listening for his footsteps, but I heard nothing. I entered my apartment and latched the chain. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, but nothing could stop the tears and the memories from coming. I slid down to the floor and sobbed until everything didn’t hurt so damn bad.

  ***

  I arrived in New York later that week. Somehow I had managed to avoid Blake and was grateful when he didn’t seek me out. Thanks to our living situation, simply knowing his proximity was distracting enough, and I needed time to think. The past few days had been intense. I decided now was as good a time as ever to see Alli and clear my head.

  I cabbed a short ride from JFK to an address Alli gave me in Brooklyn Heights. The driver pulled up to a stone multi-story building with an ornate overhang. I entered the expansive lobby and greeted the doorman who smiled politely.

  “I’m Erica Hathaway. I’m here to see Alli Malloy.”

  “Certainly, you’re expected. She’s in Mr. Landon’s suite, number forty-two.”

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to hide my surprise. So much for my grand plan of staying under the radar for a few days in New York.

  I knocked once and waited a few seconds. I knocked again more loudly—still nothing. I tried the doorknob. Just as I did, Alli opened it, her eyes bright and her skin flushed, looking like… well, I knew that look. She reached for me and pulled me into a tight hug.

  “You’re here!”

  I hugged her back. I had missed her terribly. She felt small and warm in my arms. Had she lost weight? Before I could mention it, she pulled back and appraised me. New York was beastly hot today, so I had dressed in cut off denim shorts and some layered tanks, topped with a white fedora, just for fun.

  “You look so cute,” she said.

  “Yeah, um, you too.” I wished I meant it.

  “Oh God, no, I’m a mess. I just got up from a nap.”

  “Some nap,” I said, noting the just-fucked hairdo she was trying to smooth out as we walked into the enormous open layout of the condo with unobstructed views of the Manhattan skyline.

  She laughed a little and blushed. I looked around, expecting to see Heath right around the corner, but he was nowhere in sight.

  “Nice place,” I said.

  “I know, right?”

  The condo itself was nothing short of impressive, everything and more than I expected from someone in the Landon family. The ceilings were high, characterized by exposed dark wood beams and matching hardwood floors. The furniture and décor were muted with periodic pops of color. The decor reminded me of Blake’s place in Boston.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Alli asked.

  “Sure, anything with ice.”

  She busied herself in the kitchen while I settled at one of the bar stools at the island.

  “So when were you going to tell me you were staying with Heath?”

  She leaned into the counter. “I’m sorry, Erica. I just figured it might be easier to explain in person.”

  “You can stay wherever you want, Alli. It would have been nice to know though. Blake doesn’t know I’m here.”

  She frowned, and I heard a door open down the hallway. Heath emerged, freshly showered and dressed, a content smile on his face. He looked more like Blake than I remembered. I couldn’t shake the sense that something lay hidden beneath all of his charm though. Sure, Blake had layers. Many in fact, but he didn’t seem to mask them as conspicuously.

  “Erica, long time no see.” He gave me a quick hug before joining Alli in the kitchen. He kissed her and I looked away.

  Heath and Alli were adorable together, and energy radiated off them in a very familiar way. I’d only been here ten minutes and I already felt like I was horning in on their privacy.

  My chest tightened, and my thoughts went to Blake. What lengths would I go to, to have him here kissing me that way? Still, I knew better. Whether or not he agreed, I needed some space to make sense of what had happened. The way Blake had pried into my life was completely unacceptable, and illegal. The violation had left me raw and vulnerable.

  I swiveled on the stool, stood, and walked to the massive windows overlooking the park below. I wondered how much of this was a result of Blake’s support, or if Heath actually contributed to his lifestyle in any way. Maybe I was being too hard on him. He was obviously sweeping Alli off her feet, which I’d never seen happen in the three years I’d known her. I hoped it wasn’t too good to be true, for her sake.

  “Are you hungry? I was thinking we could get lunch,” Alli said.

  “That’d be great.”

  “Let me show you your room.” Alli reached for my bag.

  Heath took it from her swiftly and led us both down a hall opposite to the one he’d previously emerged from.

  I peeked into a nice-sized bedroom decorated with the same muted off-white tones and a deep red bedspread. I regretted I wouldn’t be sharing it with Blake. The vision of him spread out under me, or vice versa, was more than appealing. The memory of our last time together washed over me, and my eyes misted. I shook my head. I needed to get Blake out of my system.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Alli and I devoured our appetizers between sips of Prosecco as we waited for the main course, which for me was a pile of carbs. Going through Blake withdrawal had involved a serious lack of appetite, but being around Alli made me feel relaxed again and comfortable enough that my hunger had returned with a fury.

  “How do you like the new job?” I asked.

  “I love it, most of the time, anyway. It’s crazy, fast-paced, and can be stressful running around after everyone, but I feel like it’s a major step toward where I want to be.”

  I smiled. “That’s exciting.”

  “It really is. And I’m totally making connections for you, by the way. Heath hooked me up with someone who’s getting us into an opening at a gallery tomorrow night.”

  “An art show?” I said, wondering what that had to do with fashion and me.

  “Yes. It’ll be very chic and a lot of super important people will be there.”

  “Chic, eh? I s
uppose.” I eyeballed the plate of steaming pasta that the server set in front of me. I took my first bite. Heaven, I thought. I could replace sex with food, surely.

  “What’s going on with Blake?”

  An unexpected wave of emotion surged through me. I told her about the last day I’d spent with Blake. From meeting with Max to getting screwed to the door by Blake. The good, bad, and the ugly.

  “Do you love him?” she asked.

  “Are you kidding me?” My voice was shrill, the very mention of the L word launching me out of my longing and headlong into panic and fear.

  “Is that such a crazy thing to ask?”

  “Are you in love with Heath?” I spat out, desperate to change the subject but scared of what she might say.

  She turned her focus back on her lunch wordlessly.

  “There.” I countered, vindicated.

  “I am,” she whispered, almost too quietly for me to hear.

  We ate in silence for a while. I wasn’t sure why, but the news saddened me. I’d had Alli all to myself for three years. We shared everything, looked out for each other, and together helped build the business that gave me purpose today. In a matter of weeks she had eyes for no one but Heath. Feeling jealous was irrational, because above everything, I wanted her to be happy, even at the expense of our friendship.

  “Is he good for you?” I asked.

  “We fit,” she said simply. “Things aren’t always perfect, but somehow they always seem right. We’re figuring it out.”

  “Well I’m happy for you. I want you to know that.”

  Her features relaxed and she reached over and grabbed my hand across the table.

  “Thank you.”

  I knew then that she had been waiting for my approval all this time.

  “I’m so glad you’re here. I miss you,” she said.

  “I miss you too. Sometimes it feels like we’re a million miles away.”

  “We’re not though. I’m always here for you.”

  I smiled and nodded, not wanting to bring up the fact that she’d been largely unreachable since moving to New York. Still, I felt better hearing her say it. With Blake out of my world at the moment, rekindling life back into my friendship with Alli was more than welcome, even if I had to share her with Heath.