“I’m covered now,” he whispers. I can almost taste his toothpaste as he grabs my hands and pulls them down.

I must be seeing things because he’s looking at me like he needs my mouth for breakfast, not eggs.

I have a brief scenario in my head where he shoves me against the counter, and then I think I’m losing my mind.

With a bright smile, he says, “You okay?”

“Yeah, great, so great, awesome, totally perfect, you?” Too many words, damn it.

“Good, I just have one question.” His abs are perfection. His towel isn’t tight enough around his lean waist.

“What?” I try to sound normal, but my breath comes out raspy.

His smile broadens. “How much will you hate me if I make this morning a bit better?”

“How would you do that?” I ask.

He smirks, and I notice a small dimple on his right cheek. “Such a dangerous question, Belle.”

He lifts me up onto the bathroom counter before I can say anything, and then his eyes ask it all—is this okay. His hands don’t grab me, they pull back.

“I don’t know,” I finally say, still processing the fact that this guy is in front of me, slightly wet, looking like a hot snack I want to devour.

We barely know each other!

And maybe that’s part of the appeal.

I lick my lips.

He stares at my mouth. “I’m probably going to steal that lick now.”

“And if I say yes?”

His smile is so sexy I want to clench my legs. “I might say yes.”

“You a virgin?” he asks.

I shake my head.

He leans in until his mouth presses against mine. “Good.”

And then I’m lost.

I’m lost in the heat of his kiss, the heat of his body, and the way his towel seems to also be too much as his body presses into me. “You dirty?”

“What?”

He sounds like he’s almost growling as he pushes me into the shower and runs the hot water down my body. I gasp as his mouth tries to capture each drop.

His hips move against mine.

“What are we doing?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “We’re not being perfect, that’s for sure.”

I smile because I feel free for the first time in a while. I feel free with this rich prick, and even if he’s using me—I’m going to use him right back. I grab him by his long hair and pull him down to my mouth.

He groans against my lips, then lifts me, pressing me against the shower as his cock presses between my thighs. “I could be the best thing that ever happened to you, and I really think…” He smiles against me. “…you could be the best thing that ever fucking happened to me.”

I pull away. “What about being perfect?”

“Fuck it.” He jerks away the rest of my clothes, tossing them roughly on the floor, followed by his towel, then grips me by the face with both hands. He looks the way I feel, desperate, afraid, uncertain, and full of lust that should be wrong but feels so right. He hesitates briefly.