His dick is still wonderfully erect. Okay, time to untangle, call Callum, and tell him I’m coming to England. No way I’m staying here when Ashton is a continent away and Mal is hard and beautiful and available and kept the napkin. Mom might be a handful, but that doesn’t mean she’s not right. Mal is trouble, and I’m not a huge fan of trouble anymore.

I try to withdraw from his body, only to find he’s now the one with his arm clasped over me, and not vice versa. I slide to the edge of the bed, but Mal clasps my arm. I gasp and turn to look at him.

He smirks, his eyes still closed.

Bastard.

“Going somewhere fancy?” he inquires, his voice deep and rich and gravelly.

Pouty, broken-boy charm has always been my kryptonite, and when he is Imperfect Mal, the urge to love him overwhelms me.

Food for thought, though: Kryptonite also has the power to completely destroy Superman.

“Yeah,” I say. “England. To meet my boyfriend’s parents.”

These plans have been brewing in my head for a while, but I’ve yet to do anything about them. Now something tells me it’s time I should. Must, if I want to save my relationship.

His eyes are still closed, his smile widening.

Did he listen to what I just said? Maybe he woke up with brain damage. Poor soul. But I’m sure there are women lining up to take care of his screwed-up self. There are two types of women—the ones who want to save, and the ones who want to be saved. The entire population of the former would take Mal and his goodie bag of issues happily.

“Stop smiling.” I groan.

“Why? Life is beautiful.”

“Is that so?” I quirk an eyebrow. I think—I think—he just rolled his hips against my groin, essentially pushing his dick between my legs, but I can’t tell for sure, because the movement is very gentle. What I am sure of is the fact that I’m drenched to the bone and currently clenching my womb, wishing his throbbing member was in my tunnel. And yes, I just said throbbing member in my head, because admitting the obvious—I am insanely, deliriously in lust with him—is hard to swallow.

There’s heat swirling in my lower belly, and if I don’t escape this bed right now, I will do something I won’t be able to forgive myself for.

His eyes pop open, purple and bright and full of mischief. It’s like he woke up a new, healthy man. The tables have turned again, and now I’m the one at his mercy.

“Are we still doing this I-have-a-boyfriend routine? Because Shiny Boyfriend lost the girl the minute you found the napkin.”