It took more willpower than he had that night to stop himself from lying down on her. Mistake, he knew, because once she felt how hard he was, she would send him packing. But there was no hope for it. He rested his full weight on her, and she made a little happy murmuring sound.

“Aren’t you supposed to kick me out?” he asked, between kisses.

“Give me a minute.” She kissed him again and Cyrus let her. Another minute or two of deep kissing passed. They kissed long enough and hard enough, Cyrus started to think she’d forgotten her job.

“Now?” he asked.

“I know I should,” she said, “But I’m having too much fun.” She wrapped her legs around his lower back and grinned up at him.

“I don’t have to go,” he said. “I could stay.”

“I know you could.”

“You know I won’t.”

“I know you won’t,” she said. “But I know you want to. And you know I want you to.”

“You do?”

“You think you’re the only one turned on in this room?”

“You want it?” he asked. “Really?”

She nodded slowly, her dark eyes hooded by her thick black lashes. She’d never looked sexier to him. His groin tightened. Cyrus would have happily spent the entire night tucked on top of Paulina, kissing her and digging his fingers into her curling soft hair, tasting coffee with every touch of his tongue against hers.

But.

He put each hand beside her shoulders and pushed himself up.

Paulina, however, would not let go. She whispered, playfully, but kept her feet firmly wrapped around his back.

“Ahem.”

“Do I have to?” she asked.

“You don’t have to. But you probably should. You got prayers to say. I need to say a few myself, I think.”

With a put-upon sigh, Paulina—with obvious reluctance—removed her feet from his back and placed them on the bed.

“I knew we should have had a June wedding,” she said.

Cyrus laughed as he dragged himself—with obvious reluctance—off the bed.

“One month,” he said. “And a half.”

“Fifty-three days,” she said. “I’ll survive.”

“I better go before I change my mind about a few things.”

“You better do that, Daddy.”

Cyrus knew he should, but he couldn’t quite leave yet. He sat down next to her on the bed, stroked his hand through her hair, stroked her cheek with one curl.

“You ever gonna tell me if you ever done this before?” Cyrus asked her.

“No, I am not.”

“I’m not being nosy,” he said. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“We been together over a year, Cyrus Tremont. You really think a woman can go a year without having sex and it won’t hurt when she has it again? Whether I’ve done it before or not won’t matter, and you know it.”

“I just want you to enjoy it. I just…I want to get it right for you.”

“Will you be there?”

“Planning on it.”

“Then I’ll enjoy it.”

“I love you, baby.”