Oh fuck me! Tears crawled up my throat. I don’t know why. I was so stupid. Maybe it was because he wasn’t freaking out about the slight chance that some sort of insemination just went down. Or maybe it was because he was so damn fucking—­ugh—­fucking everything.

I had sex with him again—­unprotected sex—­and I let my hormones get the best of me, and I still hadn’t told him the truth about that night.

He kissed me again and then playfully smacked my bum as he rose. “Come on. An orgasmic omelet awaits us.”

I stared at him from my prone position on my belly.

A boyish grin crossed his features as he rolled off the bed. He bent over, grabbing his pants off the floor. Pulling them on, he winked at me. “Mind if I use your toothbrush?”

At this point, did it matter if he did? “No.”

“Your ass better be out of this bed by the time I get done.” He then winked and turned, walking out of the bedroom.

Barefoot. Shirtless. His pants weren’t even buttoned!

I lay there for a moment, unsure of what I should freak out more over. The fact I was a bitch for still not telling him the truth or that I could’ve just gotten myself knocked up?

Okay. The knocking up part was highly unlikely and I needed to devote my freak-­out energy to something more relevant—­the whole bitch part.

When I heard the water turn off in the bathroom and the door open, I was the one who sprung from the bed like my ass was on fire. I’d just grabbed a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top when he appeared in the doorway.

I was still buckass naked, and he totally noticed.

Striding back into the bedroom, he wrapped one arm around my waist and lifted me up off my feet and kissed me. He tasted of mint and male, and I almost dropped my clothes.

“You’re moving too slow this morning.” Bending at the waist, he hoisted me up over his shoulder. “I have to intervene.”

I let out a shriek that was a half-­startled laugh. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”

“Taking your sweet ass”—­his hand landed on my ass, causing me to jerk—­“yeah, this sweet ass to the bathroom.”

He pivoted around as I held on to my clothes for dear life and then walked my sweet ass to the bathroom, depositing me on my feet. His hands lingered though, on my bare hips and then my breasts. He made a deep sound in his throat as he lowered his forehead to mine. “Now I’m thinking about getting you in that shower and—­”

“Go,” I laughed, pushing at his chest. “As much as I like the idea of us getting all wet and whatnot, we’re never going to get that omelet.”