Corinne is nothing like those women. She’s the yin to my yang. The opposite who attracts me. I thought something real was brewing between us.

  I’ve been bullshitting myself.

  But if I want her, is giving up really the answer? After all, no one wins a game they never play…

  Maybe it’s possible to pleasure my way into her heart. It’s a long shot, but what the fuck else do I have? Quitting? Defeat? Hard pass. I’m not giving her over to Riley, that douchebag, without a fight. She might think she has feelings for him, but I’m convinced I’ve got at least a sliver of her heart, too.

  Instead of reaching for shorts and a tank and retreating to another part of the house where I don’t have to hear Corinne cry for another man, I march for the door—stark naked—and use the key stashed above the frame to let myself in. We’re going to have this out.

  Now.

  The steam billowing from the shower is thick. Corinne sits on the tiled bench, knees against her chest, shoulders shaking, as the water pelts the top of her bowed head.

  I grind my teeth. Yes, I’m goddamn furious. Not with her. She can’t help her feelings. But why the fuck would such an extraordinary woman fall for a guy who’s both boring and going nowhere? That’s not to say she would automatically choose the ruthless son of a bitch who, until she came along, devoted his life to making green and tapping ass. One who gleefully said yes to revenge. But I won’t let up until Corinne knows he’s all wrong for her and I’m an option.

  Yanking open the glass door, I step into the enclosure large enough for a basketball team. She jerks her head up to stare at me with huge eyes dripping mascara and a trembling mouth. It’s not her best look, yet she still makes my heart stop.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Her tears spark my temper. “Why are you letting that asshole make you cry?”

  “You don’t understand.” She shakes her head. “How could you? You brazen your way past most every problem and BS through the rest. You’ve probably never been embarrassed in your life.”

  “Riley is an idiot. He dumped you. Why give a shit what he thinks?”

  She looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “He was my world once.”

  Ouch. I didn’t need to hear that. “He’s not now, is he?”

  Angrily, Corinne uncurls from her sitting-up fetal position and springs into my personal space, her jaw and her fists clenched. Oh, I’ve hit a sore spot. She’s mad. There’s fight in her eyes. I’m happy to indulge.

  “What I don’t know is why,” she yells. “According to you, he bought me a ring. And something I did was so terrible, so repulsive, that he returned it and left me—like every other fucking person in my life. And you’re surprised I’m unhappy that I’ve horrified him again?”

  Whoa. I’ve never heard Corinne curse at all, much less drop an F-bomb. She’d only do that if this dude was important to her.

  That fucking pisses me off.

  “Ever think maybe you weren’t the problem?”

  “I was the only other person in the relationship.”

  “If you’d acted any differently—then or now—it wouldn’t have been you he loved, just an illusion. Would merely having his warm body beside you be enough to make you happy?”

  “Shut up,” she snaps. “You don’t understand.”

  “Yes, I do.” I grab her arms and haul her against me. Of course I’m hard. She’s naked, my blood is pumping, and just like my heart, my cock wants to prove that I’m the man for her. “Answer the fucking question.”

  “It’s absurd. Of course not.”

  She’s lying to herself. “What did you love about him? Name three things.”

  “I don’t have to explain my feelings to you.”

  “I’m just trying to understand. If he was the love of your life, tell me why.”

  “You won’t get it.”

  I raise a brow at her. “Because I’m too stupid?”

  “Don’t twist my words.”

  “Then spell it out for me.”

  “Fine.” She fumes, arms crossed belligerently over her chest as a silent Keep Out sign. “He…he had nice manners. He treated his mother well. A-and…”

  I start fake-snoring. “He comports himself well and he’s a mommy’s boy? That’s what you’ve got? Bo-ring.”

  “Don’t be a jerk. We also have the same taste in books.”

  That makes me roll my eyes. “That will never fulfill you. And that definitely won’t get you hot, princess.”

  She bristles. “You don’t know that. Besides, sex isn’t a big consideration. It’s not that important in a marriage.”

  I burst out laughing. “Who told you that bullshit? The Hallmark Channel?”

  She wrenches from my grasp. “That’s sexist, dismissive, and rude. Besides, what do you know about love?”

  “What do you know about sex?” I counter. “Except that you like when we have it.”

  She flushes. “That’s not the point.”

  “But it’s the truth. And it’s a symptom of what was lacking in your relationship with Riley. You know what I think?”

  “I don’t care. I wanted five minutes alone with my thoughts. Were you considerate enough to give them to me? No. You bulldozed your way in. Riley—”

  “Would never have done that? Yeah, no shock there. Since he dumped you, it stands to reason he wouldn’t give enough of a shit to come after you.” Doesn’t she fucking see that?

  “Interrupting a woman’s private time is supposed to tell her a man cares?” She snorts. “You don’t understand the fairer sex. You’re better at getting them into bed than keeping them there. Maybe you should stick to that.”

  Corinne reaches for the shower door to push her way out. I haul her back. Water sluices down our bodies, every inch pressed together. She breathes hard as she stares up at me. Her heart pounds. Her pupils dilate.

  She might not want to want me…but she does. I’m convinced she has feelings for me and she’s afraid of them. She’s still clinging to Riley because he’s familiar. She idealized their relationship because he was safe.

  And I need to prove it to her.

  “Okay. I’ll start with you. Mr. Tepid can’t give you what I can, princess.”

  “A headache?”

  “Funny. A screaming, wall-banging, rock-your-world orgasm. In fact, I think you never had sex with him not because it ‘didn’t feel right’ but because, deep down, you weren’t in love with him. That’s why you weren’t excited by him.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Tell me one time he had you even close to coming.”

  “He… Well, we d-didn’t… I wasn’t—”

  “Into him? I know. You settled for Riley, hoping he would fill that gaping void in your life your absent family created. And since he’s a loser who’s going nowhere, you convinced yourself he’d never leave.”

  “That’s not true! Riley had plenty of prospects.”

  I level her a scathing stare. “He’s got a mid-level job for a mid-level financial firm handling mid-level clients.”

  “Everyone starts somewhere. And a man’s job isn’t the full measure of his character.”

  “But his ambition is. Riley has none, so he has no value.”

  “In your estimation.”

  “In most of the financial world’s. You’re not the kind of woman who should ever accept anything average. You deserve the best, and he isn’t it.” Her stubborn expression tells me she’s still refusing to see her ex’s shortcomings. I need to try a different tactic. “Do you know his sexual history?”

  “No.” She looks offended by the question. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” I argue. “I’ll bet he’s slept with fewer than five women. One was probably a high school sweetheart. Maybe he hooked up a couple of times in college. He may have been lucky enough to find a drunk girl or two at bars over the years. But he’s never had any serious game.”

  “So he didn’t choose to sleep with half the planet? To most people, not being indiscriminately promiscuous is a good thing.”

  “It’s not that he chose to be abstinent; no one was interested in fucking him, not even you. And by the way, at least part of the reason he returned your engagement ring without proposing is his lack of confidence and conviction. Why would you want a man like that?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “I know his type. Even when he had the chance to marry way out of his league, he couldn’t commit. And he’s as thrilling as wallpaper paste. I doubt he can even find your clit. I’m sure he can’t satisfy you.”

  “This conversation is ridiculous.”

  “Did you ever ask yourself why you weren’t interested enough to find out?”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “I do. Do you think I’m wrong? You think he scores a lot?”

  “He’s discerning. There’s nothing wrong with choosing quality over quantity. Not every man thinks with his penis.”

  I burst out laughing again. “Yeah, they do. Some saps, like Riley—”

  “He is not a sap.”

  “They know they’re not going to get tail on their looks, personality, or charm, so they fall back on things like nice manners to impress girls like you who are too afraid to strive for more.”

  Corinne gasps. “I am not afraid.”

  “You’re terrified. And you know I’m right. When he left, he hurt your pride way more than he broke your heart.”

  “That’s not true. I was devastated.”

  “You were shocked. And you’ve done nothing but question yourself since. If you won’t be honest with you, I will. You don’t know your worth. If you’d married him, you would have sold yourself short. You’d be better off marrying me.”

  She gapes, seemingly stunned. “That would be like marrying a tiger.”

  “Because I’d be panting, pawing, and eating you every night?” I back her against the shower wall, skimming my lips across her jaw.

  She rolls her eyes. “There you go again, making everything about sex. I meant that I’d have to be crazy to marry you.”

  I brace my palms beside her head and lean in. “Maybe. But you’d never be bored.”

  “And you would, so you would never be faithful.”

  “Oh, you’re wrong, princess. I would be the most devoted husband you can imagine.”

  Corinne scoffs. “It’s easy to say that when you don’t have to prove it. You’ve slept with most of the women you’ve met, so I know better than to believe you’ll stick to just one. It’s the reason players like you don’t marry good girls like me. Why are we even having this conversation?”

  She still has no idea?

  Fuck it. This argument isn’t getting me anywhere. Maybe some nonverbal communication will.

  “Never mind. You wanted to touch me? Bring it on.”

  “I’m not in the mood anymore.”

  I send her a dirty smile. “Let me fix that.”

  She opens her mouth to protest. I curl my hand behind her nape, maneuver her face under mine, and seize her lips. She stiffens. I half expect her to shove me away or knee me in the balls. Instead, she softens before slowly, slowly opening to me. Our tongues touch. She quickly retreats…then tentatively slides hers against mine again. Her breathing changes. Her head tilts. She deepens the exchange. Finally, she moans, loops her arms around my neck, and unabashedly sinks into the kiss.

  With a groan, I press her into the tile, gripping her as if I can’t get close enough, like I’ll die if I don’t have her. It sure feels that way. All it takes for me to want Corinne is a glance, a touch, a whiff of that heady female scent. Hell, just thinking about her gets me fucking hot.

  My skin is plastered against hers, but we’re still not close enough. Cupping her face, I lose myself in her, eating at her mouth possessively. Against me, she turns restless, grabbing and scratching and writhing for more. I’m already halfway to losing my head when she reaches between us and grips my cock with an earnest, inexpert stroke.

  Electric need shoots up my spine. “Jesus, princess… I want you so fucking bad.”

  I’ve been aching since the bar.

  “You don’t need to give me your rehearsed lines to entice me to say yes. Just kiss me.”

  Corinne thinks she’s like all the others to me? Nothing could be further from the truth.

  “I’m not only going to make you come, I’m going to make you think.”

  “About what?” she pants.

  “Everything.”

  I refuse to spell it out. Confessing what I’m feeling when she’s been crying for another man…no. I’m fearless in moneymaking. I will go balls to the wall for an investment I believe in—all day, every day. But pouring out my heart isn’t in my wheelhouse. The one time I tried it ended badly. Corinne doesn’t seem like the sort who would betray me by jumping ship at the first offer…but she might walk away because her heart was never mine.

  I’d rather save myself the humiliation and let my body do the talking.

  Spinning her around to face the wall, I cover her back with my chest, planting my lips against her neck and feeling my way down her body, from her engorged nipples so sensitive she whimpers when I roll them between my fingers, to the flat of her stomach, and finally to the soft cleft between her legs.

  “You’re already wet for me,” I murmur.

  “No.”

  “Yes. And swollen, too.” I strum her clit with a barely there touch.

  She presses her cheek against the cool tile and closes her eyes. “I was already wet. From earlier.”

  “You cleaned up in the hotel bathroom. All this”—I insert my fingers between her folds, into her furrow, testing my way from her needy bud to her slick opening—“is new. It’s for me.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does,” I growl in her ear, settling my digits back over her clit. “Don’t lie to me. And don’t lie to yourself. Everything between us matters.”

  Corinne gasps, rocking her hips against my touch. “Why?”

  “You figure it out.” I nip my way across her shoulder, then up her neck, before settling against her ear. “While I make you claw the walls and scream your throat raw.”

  “Xavian…”

  “That’s right. I’m the man with my hand on your pussy. The only man who’s ever had his hands—and mouth—here. The only one who’s been inside you. The only one you’ve come for.”

  The only one who’s ever loved you.

  “Why? Why do you make me ache? Every single time you touch me, I”—she gasps—“melt for you.”

  “You think about that.” I slide my free hand up her side to cradle her breast and work the hard tip.

  Her head slides back to my chest. “When you touch me, I can’t think at all.”

  “I would do this to you every night. I would live for the moment we hit the sheets and I could make your world only about us, about the way I fill you, about the ecstasy overwhelming you.” Corinne doesn’t answer with words, just a keening sound so full of need it makes me harder than fucking steel. “You want that?”

  “I shouldn’t…”

  She’s twice as wet as she was when I put my fingers on her earlier. Her clit is beyond swollen, hard, and quivering. She’s close.

  “But you do,” I murmur in her ear. “I fucking want that, too.”

  Just like I want to come with her. I want her to feel us together.

  I’m dying to get inside her.

  Books and movies make shower sex seem like a breeze. Since I’m nearly a foot taller than Corinne, our height differential is real. I’ve got to get creative.

  Gripping her hips, I lift her off her feet and turn her to the bench.

  She lets out a protesting cry. “What are you doing?”

  “On your knees, hands against the wall.”

  “Why?” she asks. But she’s already in position.

  Her graceful shoulders, the delicate line of her spine, the curves of her hips and ass…the stuff of my fantasies. But they’re even better because of the woman they’re attached to. She’s everything I didn’t realize I need.

  Brushing the wet hair off her back and over one shoulder, I align myself behind her. But the fucking spray beating down on us is turning cold. Cursing, I yank the lever to cut off the shower, then refocus my attention on Corinne, on her choppy breathing as she watches me over one shoulder. Then I lean over her back, cover her clit with my fingers again, and surge inside her in one raw, teeth-gritting thrust.

  Sensations sizzle across my skin and zip down my spine. Holy fucking son of a bitch. Nothing in my life has ever felt this good.

  No, it’s never felt so right.

  “Xavian!” Corinne scratches at the tile, her voice pleading.

  “Here, princess. Right. Fucking. Here,” I vow, slamming my way inside her.

  “Yes!” Her high-pitched wail drives the animal in me more primal.

  “I’m going to stay here, so deep inside you, you won’t remember what it feels like when I’m not fucking you.”

  “Please.”

  She tosses her hips back at me, rolling with every stroke as she gropes for my thigh. Her nails sink into my skin. Her desire makes me burn. This woman is going to leave me in ashes. Everything about her drives me higher, from her teeth biting her lower lip to hold in her begging to the tight squeeze of her pussy, ensuring I never want to leave. Most of all? Those eyes. Dark, glittering, begging. She doesn’t understand what’s happening between us.

  I’m not sure I do, either.

  I no longer feel anything but the pounding of my body into hers. Every one of her moans echoes off the tile as the enclosure steams up with our mingled, panting breaths. Passion drips, and I’m so dialed into her that, when she goes over, she’ll take a piece of me with her forever.

  I don’t even care anymore. I should. My inner cynic tells me I’m making myself too vulnerable—something I swore I’d never do again after Hadley—but it’s too late. I’m too far gone. I’m all in. If I have any prayer of ruining her for all other men, I need to give her pleasure that’s epic.