I claw at the wet muscle in front of me, and he captures my mouth in his. We’re kissing so hard, so rabidly that I can hardly breathe. The only air I get is through tiny gaps between our mouths when our movements are too rough.

I breathe, he breathes, and we do it over and over.

He’s grabbing at my waist, the fleshy curve of my hips, my generously rounded backside. I give his chiseled chest one last eager grope with both hands. And then I stroke along his always impressive length, speeding up with every groan and grunt he gives me. It’s two minutes until he’s done for.

I rinse my hand in the stream surrounding us, but then he grips my hips and directs me to sit on the ledge at the far end of the shower. I watch him kneel down in front of me, biting my lip to suppress a groan. The water is lukewarm right now and that’s a good thing. I’ll need to cool off soon.

He pushes his face between my legs and works his magic. Endless swirls and licks and sucks. I’m howling. It echoes against the walls of the bathroom, the only appropriate soundtrack to the filthy actions taking place in this steamy haven. Legs shaking and muscles twitching, I explode. He doesn’t dare let up, digging his fingers in my thighs.

Still no words. It’s exactly how I want it, how I need it.

He helps me up, we rinse, towel off, then reconvene in his bed. He cuddles me into his chest. Every muscle inside me that was formerly tense is now relaxed into goo. This is the effect Callum James has on me. I’m a wildfire one minute and Play-Doh the next.

“I’m sorry for how I acted today,” I whisper against his chest.

“It’s all right, Nikki. I just wish . . .”

When he doesn’t finish right away, I open my mouth to ask him what he wishes, but I stop myself. I don’t want to know. Because if he told me what I want to hear, I’d be stuck. How could I date the man who could put me out of business?

And that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I’m so into Callum, that in the right weak moment, I might actually choose him.

A weak moment a lot like this one, where I’m tucked against him in the dark, surrounded by his mass, protected, his entire body feeling like home.

But then I’d be the worst daughter who ever lived, and I have a promise to keep. I refuse to break it.

Before he can finish, I kiss him. I pull the bedsheet over the two of us and close my eyes, hoping his silence lasts until I fall asleep.

•   •   •