“Three weeks?”

He frowned, his expression turning fierce. “You must know, there’s been no one but you.”

I nodded and added my own blurted confession. “I’m clean. And there’s been no one but you either.”

“I don’t want anyone but you,” he said, like a chant, like he was so focused on the feel of me, he hadn’t heard my words.

“Oh,” I said, because it was all I could manage, closing my eyes again. He was still moving inside me. It was instinctual, like he couldn’t stop now that he’d started.

“Does this feel good to you?” he asked, still so concerned about my pleasure. I couldn’t believe he’d gone from a serial one-night-stander who didn’t care at all about the satisfaction of his lovers, to a man who savored every moment of my enjoyment. Had I done this to him? The thought was both exhilarating and sobering.

“God, yes, do you even have to ask?” I answered, my words coming out in a rush.

“I want to be sure. It’s important to me to make you feel good.”

“You’re thinking too much. Get out of your head and just do what your body tells you.”

I started to ride him and he groaned, his head falling into the pillows. I opened my eyes and he was watching me. His gaze never left mine, his hands still held me tight, as we both pushed our bodies to the brink of ecstasy. A moment later he began moving his flattened out palms up and over my hips. Instinctually, I took his hands and raised them to my breasts. They covered them completely and I loved how it felt, loved feeling him on every inch of me.

“Keep touching me,” I urged as I felt a sharp, keening pleasure formulate from the pit of my stomach and all the way down to my clit.

He pinched my nipples and I gasped. “Yes, that feels amazing.”

Growling, he rose up to take one nipple in his mouth, his other hand pressing into my lower back. My moans filled the room as he continued to fuck me, his other hand going down between us to find my clit.

“Sean,” I cried out as he rubbed me, too many sensations hitting me all at once.

“Come,” he demanded on a growl, the sound vibrating from his mouth still on my nipple right through me. His fingers kept circling my clit, and I felt the wetness between us coating him. “Come with me,” he urged again right before his mouth left my breast and sought my lips. His kiss was wet and desperate, and when his tongue plunged inside I came violently right there with him still inside. I filled with warmth as his movements slowed and his mouth fell from mine to bite possessively at my jaw. He kept moving until he’d drained every last moment of his orgasm.

“Jesus Christ, Lucy,” he rasped, holding me tight.

“Sean,” I panted, wrapping my arms around his neck as we both fell back into the bed, savoring the after-effects of what was possibly the most amazing sex either one of us had ever experienced.

I was certain of it.

Because it wasn’t just sex . . .

Turning us, he spooned me from behind. I loved how big and warm his body was. I loved how he nuzzled my neck. I loved how his hands were caressing and reverent.

“Stay with me,” he said, more a soft rumble than spoken words.

I nodded, giving myself over to it—to him—pushing away encroaching fretfulness for just a little bit longer.

Because this was nice. It was more than nice. It was spectacular. It felt necessary.

I liked—no, I loved—being in his arms. I loved the after just as much as I loved the during.

At my nod, he relaxed. And after a while his breathing evened out and I realized he’d fallen asleep. A moment later my phone lit up with a call.

Ronan.

My heart lurched. Since it was on silent, I let the call ring out, and a minute later I saw he’d left a voicemail. Picking up the phone and rising carefully from the bed, I held it to my ear and listened.

Hey Luce,

Look, I know things have been hectic the past few days and we haven’t really had the chance to talk, but I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you in the car. Annie’s right, I was being a bully. I just care about you so much and I don’t want you getting hurt by bad people. You’re your own person and I understand that you get to make your own decisions, so I’m going to try to be less of a protective oaf from now on. Well, as much as I can be. Just know I’m sorry and I’ll always be there to look out for you. Anyway, call me when you get this.

As soon as the call clicked off, I looked back at Sean, indecision churning in my gut. My brother wasn’t the kind of guy to often admit when he was wrong, so that message was a big deal. And as much as he didn’t want to upset me, I didn’t want to hurt him.

But I didn’t want to upset Sean, either.

I didn’t know what to do.

What Sean and I had just shared had been monumental, life altering, and as much as I loved Ronan, I wasn’t sure I could give up what I had with Sean just to keep Ronan happy.

And I couldn’t bring myself to feel regret. If I’d had the chance, I knew I’d do everything exactly the same. I’d make the same choices. I wouldn’t give up my time with Sean for a mountain of inner peace. Still, I needed time to think, to figure out a plan to tell Ronan about Sean and get him to accept him in my life without summoning the apocalypse.

By the time I was dressed he was snoring lightly, and I hated myself for leaving him, but there was nothing else for it. Finding a pad of paper and a pen, I scribbled down a quick note and left it on the end of the bed.