“I do believe I’m very partial to those best parts.” I laugh and roll over on top of him, taking the welcome change in topic. I push myself up to a seated position and straddle him. He grows hard beneath me, and it makes it very difficult to concentrate on him and this discussion and why exactly I’m saying no.

“I’m not complaining one bit.” He adjusts his hips up so his hardness grinds perfectly against my softness.

“From now on, everything I want from you, I’m going to tell you it’s overrated so that you kill me slowly with it.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and nod as I take him in: his dark hair against the white pillow; his tanned, sculpted skin; the deep brown of his eyes that I keep telling myself not to get lost in.

But it’s impossible. I seem to be getting swallowed whole by everything he is, and I’m at a complete loss over what to do or how I feel about it.

“Are you telling me that last night I killed you slowly?” he asks with a cocky, lopsided grin, while I relive every glorious second in my mind.

“Perhaps,” I tease and lean over to press a kiss to his lips.

“Hey, Chase?” Gunner asks in between kisses as his hands find my hips and grab them.

“Sex.”

“Sex?” I laugh.

“It’s completely overrated,” he grumbles, as I lift up and he positions himself at my entrance.

“I see what you did there.” I sink down onto him. Inch by glorious inch.

“What are you going to do about it?” he moans.

“I guess it’s up to me to show you otherwise.”

I rock my hips over him. His hands find my waist and guide me.

Our eyes hold.

Sure, we’re currently having sex—have had sex—but there’s intimacy to be said about this.

To it being broad daylight, where I’m sitting atop him and all his scars are on display.

And maybe, just maybe, some of my scars are trying to be seen too.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chase

“I DON’T NEED A TOUR guide,” I say, looking at where Gunner is standing, shoulder resting against the doorjamb of my hotel room door.

“I know, but you told Nix we were going on a date today so the last thing I want to do is stand you up on a date I never even asked you out on.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

A smile toys at the corner of his lips. “Yes, you did.” He takes a step closer, smelling of soap and deodorant and everything desirable that is Gunner.

When he left earlier after our morning romp, the last thing I expected was for him to return for the date I joked about last night.