I’d caved to his appeal within the first week. I felt like a fool. Someone had caught us kissing—well, practically dry humping. Gosh, I was such an idiot. Quitting was sounding really good. Stripping down to get into some jammies and losing the bra, I decided I should take a hot bath and think. But first, I needed to kill this ache pulsing through my body. I climbed into bed, wanting to just think about what I was doing. Did I want to be his woman? Was he lying to get me into bed, or did he mean what he’d said? Fucking sexy bastard. I took out my trusty friend that I kept in the drawer for times when I was super sexually frustrated—which seemed to be daily since I met Nate. It was only a few moments before I was crying out Nate’s name as my body sang. As if he knew what I was doing, my phone rang. I tried to calm my breath, but I couldn’t. “Hello,” I breathed. “What’s the matter, babe?”
