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will be changing.”

He slid his knuckles over her cheek. “Just for this week. Only while we’re here. After that, it goes back to the way it was.”

She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, needing the solid, warm touch of male flesh. It had been so long. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It can be, if we let it.”

“You’ve done this before.”

“If you’re asking if I’ve had sex with women in the business, you know as well as I do that there aren’t that many women in the construction business.”

She smiled. “Yes, but leave it to you to find them. Plus, you travel a lot. You have contracts out of state.”

“True.”

“You have done this before.”

“Not with someone like you. Not with someone I’ve known so long. Not with someone I—”

She cocked her head to the side. “What?”

“Nothing. I just know you better than any woman. I don’t work with the women I date.

So this is new territory for me, too.”

“But we’re not exactly going to be dating, Clay.”

“Oh, I think we are.” He slid one arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her breath caught at being so close to him, at feeling his chest against her, the muscles of his thighs. “Did you think I’d strip you naked, chain you to my bed and fuck you nonstop for the entire time we’re here?”

Her stomach quivered, her mind filled with thoughts of the two of them naked. Of her tied, spread-eagled, to his bed. Of Clay doing . . . everything . . . to her. “Now, there’s a visual.”

“Well, if that’s what you really want, I’ll be happy to oblige. . . .”

She laughed, startling herself at the husky quality of her voice. She didn’t sound like herself, knew it was because she was nervous. She had no experience here; she wasn’t a flirt, nor was she trying to come across that way.

What was going to happen next? She had no idea what to do. With James, it had been easy. Familiar. She couldn’t even remember when they’d first met. It had been so long ago. How did two people . . . start?

Clay took her hand and led her to the leather love seat situated in front of the door. “It’s nice out. Let’s sit down. You want something to drink?”

“Water would be nice. I think I had enough wine at the club.”

She took a seat and Clay brought water for her, then filled a short glass with amber liquid for himself.

“Whiskey,” he said, taking it down in one shot.

She half turned to face him. “Courage?”

His lips lifted as he set the glass down on the table. “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re asking. And no, I’m not nervous.”

She nearly dropped her glass of water. She laid it carefully on the table. “Uh, I definitely didn’t think you were a virgin.” And she still couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Clay.

He picked up a strand of her hair, sifted it through his fingers. “Yeah? And how would you know?”

“I don’t. I just . . . Come on, Clay. You’ve been around. You bring a different woman to every event. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with the same woman twice.”

He studied her. “Really.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think you were paying attention.”

“I wasn’t. I mean, I do. I mean . . . hell. For God’s sake, Clay. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I think we’ve done enough talking.”

Five

Ella held her breath as Clay leaned in. He didn’t pause like Shawn had done, didn’t ask for permission. But he didn’t pin her, crowd her or take what she wasn’t offering. He simply pressed his lips against hers. A soft, light brush of his mouth on hers, enough for her to taste, to feel the warmth of his breath, the tangy flavor of whiskey.

Enough for her to want more. She leaned into him, laid her hand on his chest. So solid, so male. He snaked his arm around her waist, once again, not too much that she backed away, but enough that she knew he was there, that he was touching her. His fingers splayed across her waist, and he increased the pressure of his mouth against hers. The tip of his tongue teased hers, and she opened, laid her head back against his forearm and invited him in.

He cupped her cheek with his other hand, scooted over so his thigh touched hers, and deepened the kiss, his tongue fully involved with hers now. She had forgotten what it felt like to have so much powerful male around her. Heat swelled inside her, the butterflies she hadn’t felt with Shawn, the awakenings of arousal—what she’d come here for.

This . . . this was what she’d needed—what Shawn hadn’t given her. Maybe he never could, because despite wanting impersonal, with Clay it was personal. She knew him, knew his looks, his mannerisms, his moods. She’d known him nearly as long as she’d known James, and she felt safe in Clay’s arms. This was a giant first step for her. Clay had been right—she needed to feel safe.

And yet she didn’t love Clay; she could get what she needed and walk away when it was over. But for now, she wanted to relish every moment, to think of nothing and no one but this man. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he touched her. It was a brand-new experience and she was giddy with it.

Clay didn’t seem to be in any hurry, just held her against him, his mouth doing delicious things to her senses. And oh, man, could he kiss. Devouring her mouth one second, his tongue diving deep inside to meld with hers. Then switching things up to take small nips of her lips. Then he’d start the whole process over with deep, tongue-swirling kisses that made her toes curl.

Other than touching herself, bringing herself to orgasm, which was more of a perfunctory thirty seconds to a few minutes

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