Tessa stood watching me and I saw some sympathy on her face. Rubbing my temple, I walked into my office.

She stayed in the doorway. “Family can be complicated.”

“Family can be a pain in the ass,” I snapped.

“At least you have him.”

I looked up, detecting something in her voice.

She tucked that errant strand of hair behind her ear. “My parents died when I was young. I’d give anything to get a call from my father. Even an annoying one.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Good night, Ro. See you in the morning, bright and early.”

I watched her go. I’d pegged Tessa Ashford as having a happy, idyllic childhood in a small town. No bumps, no detours. All roses and woodland animals. I shook my head. She didn’t know what it was like to have a man like my father constantly poking at me and everything I did, and me having to clean up his messes.

I grabbed my gear and stalked out, heading for the penthouse.

There was no fault with the penthouse at the Windward. It was spacious, and managed to blend modern and rustic. The modern gray furniture contrasted with the wood floor and the rustic wood framing the windows. A modern-style antler chandelier hung over the table I was using as a desk.

I dropped my things and stripped my shirt off. My punching bag rested on the floor, and I really wished I’d had it installed. I took it everywhere with me. I wanted to hit something. Talking to my father always made me feel like that.

A session with the punching bag was the one thing guaranteed to clear my head.

Tomorrow, I’d ask one of Everett’s people to install it. I strode into the bedroom, my body vibrating with tension. I could still smell green apples.

I ignored the king-sized bed with a wooden headboard, and the stone-accented fireplace. In the bathroom, I flicked on the shower. In here, there were cream tiles and wooden beams overhead. More rustic modern.

Then I pulled the scrap of black lace from my pocket. I sucked in a breath, hot lust flooding through me.

Fuck. I could hear Tessa’s husky cries in my head. She was under my skin, dammit. I stripped my clothes off and stepped into the shower. I wrapped that lace in my hand, then gripped my cock.

It was far too easy to imagine her here, naked and wet. I stroked myself, hard, rough. I wanted to see all that pale skin naked and flushed. I imaged her slim hand on my cock, pumping me. I groaned. I imagined her dropping to her knees, a sexy, teasing smile on her lips.

I kept stroking until my muscles locked. “Tessa.” I came hard, spurting onto the tiles.