I bite his fingers, and it’s like he was waiting for that. As if it’s the switch that turns him on, that small amount of pain. He fucks me proper, then. Hard enough that I’m caught up in the current. There’s no more thinking, no more doubt. Only the endless rapids that carry me on and on and on. Farther than I knew existed. And then there’s the cliff at the end. I go over the edge of the water, clenching my thighs around his hand, biting down on the flesh of his palm, holding tight to him as if he can save me from coming apart.

He pulls back when I flinch, but he keeps rocking his hand against me with soft pulses, carrying me through the final eddies of climax until I’m lax against the wall.

For long moments there’s only the mingled sounds of our breathing, the scent of sex in the air. It’s thick with the knowledge that he’s still hard. Will he ask me to join him in his bedroom?

What will my answer be?

Strange that I don’t know.

He pulls my panties up with a too-kind gentleness. I don’t like this side of him. I don’t trust it. I open my hands, and my nightgown covers me. We are decent again, except for the glisten of my arousal on his fingertips.

“Tell me about that boy you have back home. The one who’s always texting you.”

I stiffen against the wall. “Why do you care so much about Noah?”

His lips curve. “Well, you just confirmed that he texts you.”

It is a night for secrets. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“So he doesn’t do this?” Mr. Rochester asks, brushing his lips against mine. He brings his palm up to my hip. “He doesn’t hold you like this?”

“No,” I whisper.

“Does he know? Does he know he’ll never have you?”

“I don’t know.” I don’t know how to tell him. He’s never made an overt advance, but I’ve seen the way he looks at me sometimes. Maybe it’s just my imagination. That’s what I keep hoping.

“You should tell him.” The words come out on a sigh. I breathe him in, and he breathes me back. “It’s better to cut him loose, better that he doesn’t keep hoping.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

He rests his forehead against mine. He’s large and strong, but in this moment it feels like I’m holding him together. “There are worse things than never having the woman you want.”

“Like what?”

“Go to sleep, Ms. Mendoza.”