I mentally swatted my conscience when she rocked her hips over mine with a little moan. We were going to be so damned good together. I’d give her as many orgasms as her body could take and then start all over again, only stopping when she was just as addicted to me as I already was to her. I’d be whatever she needed—

You’re the opposite of what she needs, and you know it.

I stilled against her mouth.

She didn’t know. I had dumped my feelings all over her without offering her the one truth that would give her the information she really needed.

I sent up a prayer that this wouldn’t be the only time I kissed Morgan. Then I fought my own instincts and slowed the tempo, gentling my mouth even as she whimpered in protest.

“We should go,” I said against her lips, then gave her one last soft, lingering kiss before easing her legs from my waist. My body was never going to forgive me, but I’d never forgive myself if I let this happen under false pretense.

“Okay.” She blinked at me slowly, her eyes hazy with the same desire that pumped through my veins and had me harder than the stone at her back. Once her feet reached the ground, I took her hand in mine and led her back into the lighthouse, shutting the door after us.

“Ready to head down?” I asked, trying to breathe steadily and failing miserably.

She nodded, her chest rising and falling just as erratically as mine.

I walked down ahead of her just in case she stumbled, her fingers laced with mine as I held her hand awkwardly behind my back. Unless my shoulder dislocated, I wasn’t letting go.

I used every single one of those 257 steps to formulate a plan—to come up with a way to phrase the truth of what I did for a living so she wouldn’t run. By the time we reached the ground, my breathing had evened out, but my mind was blank.

We thanked John for letting us into the lighthouse after hours and walked back along the sidewalk to the parking lot.

“Thank you,” she said with a little sigh, smiling up at me. “That really was worth the hike.”

“My pleasure.” I tried to smile, but it came out weirdly enough that Morgan’s brows knit.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as we approached the car.

I tried to answer, but the words just weren’t there. She’d been brave enough to lay her shit out—well, everything but the cause of her anxiety attacks—and here I was fumbling for an explanation.

She raised her eyebrows at me when I opened her door, but she got in without protest.

I slid behind the wheel and fired up the ignition, then slowly pulled out of the lot.