“Hmm.” His hand closes around me, and he kneads gently. The cool touch is soothing, but I pray that’s not his sole incentive. My hips shift in time with his ministrations, and he lifts his head to watch me, settling on his side. He leaves my breast and traces the line of my body to the sheet draped over my hip. He pulls it away, tossing the cover to the foot of the bed, revealing our nakedness to the daylight.

“Jesus, Bennet,” he breathes, taking me in with the same mix of reverence and desire as last night. I shiver. I feel exposed—too exposed, to the point of vulnerability. Again, a thrill rushes through me, not concern.

The sunlight makes shadows in the valleys and planes of his muscles; I want to run my fingers along every rise and fall, create an interactive map of his topography. Venturing lower, I find the morning has taken hold of a certain endowment. I decide I would like to take hold of said endowment myself.

My phone rings.

“No one who knows me would call before noon,” I say, my focus low.

He’s laughing as I push him onto his back, but the sound cuts short when I sit astride his hips and take hold of his hot length. Darcy sucks in a gasp, eyes shuttering before he palms my breasts. I release him, shifting until he’s nestled against me, and scan for the condoms.

My phone starts up again.

Nope. No chance. I rock my hips, grinding over Darcy’s erection. He leaves my breasts to grip my ass, holding me to him. A low sound escapes him. I increase my pace, and a prickle of sweat begins high between my shoulder blades, tension coiling in my belly. Holy goddamn hell, we’re going to get me off like this. I’m close, so—

My phone starts ringing again, and I whine in frustration.

He pinches my tender nipple. “Finish, Bennet.”

The authority in his voice shoves me over the edge. I come, gasping and calling out his name for the umpteenth time in I don’t know how few hours. He keeps me firmly against him, maintaining that critical contact as the climax takes its time to crash and ebb. I collapse onto his chest, liquid.

Darcy rotates our bodies so he’s on top of me, positioning himself against my still-quivering opening. “The hell did I do with those condoms?” he growls.

“By . . . window?” I pant.

Another phone begins to vibrate somewhere in the room. My phone joins in.

Darcy and I stare at one another. “Who’s—”

“I don’t know, but I hate them,” I growl, fumbling for the phone. Jane? “Oh, for shit’s—” I take the call. “What?”

“Why haven’t you picked up?” Jane demands.

“I just did,” I snap. “What—”

“Charles’s deal fell through.”

My chest goes tight. “What?”