Coming down from my high, I sagged against him, grateful when his strong arms wrapped around me.

Cannon spun me around to face him and lifted me up, holding me tightly against his chest while he walked us toward the bed, where he stripped me of my pants and underwear.

“I’ve got you,” he said, placing me in the center of the pillow-top mattress.

Boneless and relaxed, I smiled at him shyly, watching as he pushed his pants and boxers down, freeing that thick, gorgeous cock I’d dreamed about since the night I’d run into him naked in the hallway. I almost groaned at the beautiful sight. He was exquisite. I wanted to touch him, to taste him, to hear him moan with pleasure.

His hand found his cock and he stroked slowly once, twice, my core tightening all over again as I watched him. “You ready for more?”

I nodded. “Come here.”

He grabbed a condom from the top of the desk and rolled it on with practiced ease. Joining me on the bed, Cannon positioned himself between my parted thighs. But rather than drive into me with a powerful thrust like I expected, he drew out the moment, kissing me deeply and rubbing his length over my slick center, taking his time, letting the desire build even hotter, higher.

It was the sweetest form of torture I’d ever experienced. My body was still reeling from my first release, my core simultaneously hypersensitive and pulsing with renewed need. His thick cock ground against my wet, ready center.

He was taking his time. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me. When we agreed to a one-night stand, I’d imagined us climbing between the sheets and getting down to business. I’d thought it would be little more than a meaningless fuck, but boy was I wrong. Delightfully wrong. I hadn’t counted on the kissing and the foreplay and the dirty whispers breathed against my naked skin.

I gripped his hips, flashing him a playful smile. “Fuck me, big boy.”

“With pleasure, beautiful.” He drew back, finding the right angle, then pressed forward slowly so that the broad tip of him entered me.

I winced at the intrusion and Cannon paused, allowing me to adjust. Apparently it had been longer than I thought, and my body was all W-T-F.

Concern knitted his brow as he looked down at me. “You’re pretty tight,” he said softly.

“Sorry,” I gritted out.

“Don’t be. You’re perfect the way you are.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had told me that. I sure as hell didn’t feel perfect. I felt confused and so full—of emotion, of him—that I might fall apart so completely I’d never be put back together the same way ever again.

“You need a minute?” he whispered.

Burying my face in the warm crook of his neck, I nodded. How embarrassing!

I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I knew Cannon was primed and ready for this, knew I needed to relax and let him in. This was my idea, after all. Another deep inhale, and I parted my knees further.

Just then, a series of loud knocks rang out against my front door.

What the hell? No one ever came over unannounced. A wave of frustration seized me. Really, universe? Right goddamn now?

Cannon looked just as startled as I felt. “Are you expecting someone?”

I met his eyes and shook my head. “Of course not.”

Everything was quiet for a second, and I figured whoever it was had the wrong house and they’d moved on.

“Need to fuck you.” Cannon groaned, gripping my ass roughly in one palm. I knew his restraint was hanging by a thread, and that sent my heart racing.

“Yes,” I moaned.

He pushed in one inch more and we both held our breath, waiting for me to adjust. The pain soon ebbed, giving way to a sweet, satisfying stretch, and I parted my thighs to signal him deeper . . .

The silence evaporated as the knocking started again, louder this time. And it didn’t let up. Someone was pounding at my door like a lunatic.

My eyes widened and found Cannon’s. What a fucking awkward situation. With just the wide flared head of his cock inside me, there we lay, our limbs intertwined, our hearts pounding, like a porno left on pause.

Of all the absurd situations to find myself in—being interrupted by pounding at the door, when all I wanted was him pounding into me.

He groaned in frustration, placing his lips against my throat. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“I have to. Just let me see who it is, and I’ll send them away. I promise. I just don’t want my neighbors to call the police.”

He pulled out of me, achingly slowly, letting out a hiss. “Fuck.”

I patted his chest and smiled at him.

Gripping my wrist, he held me firm and met my eyes. “Hurry.”

His cock stood tall, proud, and tempting against his stomach, and I gave it one last look of longing as I threw my shirt on over my head and shimmied into my discarded jeans.

Fuck! Leaving my damp panties on the floor, I rushed from the bedroom toward the front door. The motherfucking zombie apocalypse better be here for all the racket going on at my doorstep.

Glancing through the peephole, I saw that it was Allie.

Chapter Twelve

Paige

“You better be dead or dying.” I pulled open the door with a huff.

Allie was standing at my front door, her fist still poised for pounding. If she only knew what she’d interrupted, what was going on inside the bedroom a mere twenty feet away . . .

What the hell? Hot shame burned through me at the sight of Allie’s bright red face, streaked with tears and the remnants of her mascara.