Beck doesn’t reply, and I feel stupid for bringing it up. I don’t even know why I did. I’d blame it on the two drinks I’ve had, but I’ve kept secrets after downing twice that amount.

“I usually only sleep with girls once,” Beck states as we wait for the door leading to the garage to open. His gaze stays straight ahead as I look over at him.

“We’ve had sex more than once.” I fall prey to my pet peeve and state the obvious.

“I know.” Beck starts driving again, into the garage under his building.

“Why?” I can’t help but ask.

He parks and finally looks over at me. “I wanted to.”

I nod once before I climb out of the car.

Beck follows me to the elevator and then down the hallway to his front door. As soon as he unlocks it, we step inside. The same heat from the club flares between us again, and he hauls me against his body. It’s a relief to shut my brain off and fall into sensation instead.

We stumble deeper inside the entryway, and Beck swears as his foot collides with the table beneath his impressive art collection. The apartment is dark, but he doesn’t turn on a light. We end up on the couch in the living room. It makes it feel more like he really did just pick me up at a club; not that I’ve been coming here for the last few weeks.

I make quick work of pulling off his shirt and yanking down his jeans. He’s not wearing any boxers, and I grasp his long shaft, stroking him quickly. His cock swells even more. He groans in my ear before letting out a rapid stream of German. I absorb the quality of the words spoken in his low, deep voice, enjoying the way my body has become conditioned to release fresh bursts of arousal at the sound.

Beck shifts so he’s sitting down, kicking off his pants and shoes. He pulls me to him as soon as he does, sliding his hands up until he reaches my ass. He pulls my wet thong down immediately, and I slide it off as he sheaths himself with a condom. I straddle him and reach down to guide him inside of me. We both groan loudly as he slides in. I’m still wearing my dress, and Beck sucks and nips along my bare shoulder as I begin to move. I set out planning to torture him, still a bit annoyed by his macho act earlier, but the slow strokes are just as excruciating for me as they are for him. I speed up a bit, and pressure builds like I’m a carbonated can that was just shaken up.