There’s a twig poking me in the spine, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got grass blades in my mouth.

Grass and mud and God only knows what else.

Right now, I think I know how Adam felt after one bite from a divine apple turned his whole world to shit.

If Hannah Cho finds out what I did, she’s going to peel my eyeballs like grapes.

That is, if I don’t off myself first for being so tragically stupid.

I’m naked on my back with itchy leaves under me. Destiny curls up against my side like she belongs there.

I’ve got no fucking clue where my clothes are. I ripped them off and flung them to the hinterlands in my animal state.

I should move. Find them.

End whatever the hell this spell is before it makes escape impossible.

But I’m still catching my breath one rough, conflicted lungful at a time, and there are glimpses of a forgiving blue sky just past the trees overhead.

The birds call out like they’re endorsing a sin this big.

Hell, we even saw the otters.

That’s what made this happen, I think.

My self-control was firmly screwed in place and I was ignoring everything she did to me until those damned teddy bear snakes showed up.

Until she lit up like a hot July night bursting with city lights.

Then she was bristling with so much infectious happiness and gratitude, a lightning bolt couldn’t have kept me off her.

In the heat of the moment, it was mind-blowing.

Earthquake sex.

The kind men won’t brag about in dingy bars because you’ll never admit you were ever that damned lucky.

Regrettably, the best of my life, and so rampant it didn’t matter if it was outdoors on the grass and leaves and dirt. It could’ve been on arctic snow and dagger rocks and it still would’ve been too exquisite for life.

It was also psychotically unethical.

I’m sure I just broke rules of engagement in ways I don’t want to contemplate.

Fuck, even if she’s a tall drink of trouble and an intern, she’s practically half my age and technically no different from fucking an employee.

Possibly worse.

It’s easy to forget she’s so young sometimes when her passion for animals comes out and she cares enough to do her homework. Her ideas are sincerely good, better than the bland boilerplate shit I get out of my PR specialists and Corporate Giving people now.

When we get home, I’ll have to revisit that.

Right now, I’m too paralyzed to think about anything but this colossal blunder.

When Monday hits, I’m going to have the mother of all scandals on my hands—if and when Destiny comes to her senses and decides to out my fuckery to the entire world.

Vanessa is one thing, but she wasn’t my employee. It’s easy to work against her, too, when I know every word out of her mouth is a lie.

We didn’t have sex.

I wasn’t the villain.

With Destiny, I am the devil who couldn’t keep his dick tucked in his pants.

I have no idea what to do.

What to say.

The second she gets home and starts chattering on social media about fucking Shepherd Foster, you can stick a fork in me.

Right now, I have bigger problems, though.

Like how if this grass tickling my nose doesn’t stop, I’m going to sneeze in her face.

I hate to imagine her giving me the hell I deserve when she’s so real with me.

The way she reacted to those otters was genuine.

Her enthusiasm was sweet and innocent and entirely authentic. Definitely not faked for any clickbait shit she might post about it later.

She might dress up a few smiles for the online filters and fight for the best angle, but I know she didn’t manufacture that joy.

Or that smile just for me, brighter than the sun.

Which means I need to find a way of broaching this mess without hurting her.

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Her breasts press my ribs, her cheek lies against my chest, and my arm is snug around her waist.

My posture is a fantasy, a lie that I could be the man to protect her, instead of the chosen asshole who’s about to blow her heart to hell.

This grass across my face is killing me, though, but I can’t will myself to move.

Destiny’s hand comes up and she trails a finger across my skin, skimming her nails through the hair and scraping down my muscles.

If I wasn’t too spent to speak, my dick would take a lot more interest.

“Hey,” she says through a yawn.

“Hey yourself.”

“You’re tense,” she points out.

Fuck.

Guilty.

I inhale slowly, thinking about how I can possibly approach this.

How do I convince her that this mistake can’t come out publicly without seeming like an even bigger ogre than I already am?

“Shepherd, you can relax,” she whispers, those fingers tracing down my stomach. Unwillingly, I soften under her touch. “I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what’s got you so on edge.”

“You’re not?” I try not to let too much suspicion cut my tone.

“No. It’s okay. What happened out here was between us, and more than consensual.” She hits me with that smile again.

Goddamn.

I feel like the biggest jackass ever born.

My breath stutters unevenly from my lungs, making her head bob on my chest.

“The choice is yours, Miss Lancaster. I can’t ask you to bottle up your feelings. Not when I’m the asshole who uncorked them in the first place, when I should have known better.”

“You’re Miss Lancastering me again. That’s something I will tell every tabloid rag from LA to Boston if you keep it up.” She looks up at me and laughs, asking for a smile I can’t give. “Come on. You were good—inhuman, really—but it’s not like you cast a spell that made me jump your bones. I wanted this. I won’t go blabbing to the world how you seduced me against my will. I wouldn’t dare, but even if I wanted to, it just isn’t true.” Her voice quivers at the end, uncertainty chewing at her words.

Despite everything, I tighten my hold on her.

“You really are torching my reputation. I’m not supposed to be this readable,” I say dryly. It’s annoying, but I can’t summon any disgust behind my heartache.

Disgust isn’t an emotion that happens under blue skies with wild songbirds and a woman so gorgeous she could shame every pinup from the last hundred years.

I just can’t believe my life has become an X-rated Disney film.

“But you’re hurting. The stress, it’s eating you alive.” She stares up with large eyes. Her hair is tossed across her face, her ponytail a loose mess.

Well, I wasn’t exactly tender.

“It’s very fucking complicated. There are good reasons to worry,” I tell her darkly.

“Because you regret it? Is that one of them?”

Shit.

Usually, I would snap that of fucking course I regret what was clearly a bigger misstep than triggering a landmine.

Unfortunately, I care about hurting her.

Although she tries to hide it under her bravado, I get the distinct impression that her feelings are raw. Sensitive. Exposed and questioning.

That last one is a meat hook to my heart.

“Because I can’t let it be a problem for either of us, Destiny,” I venture.

“I don’t want problems,” she agrees quickly, breathing again. “Not for you or me or for your company.”

“Then there’s nothing to regret, is there?” I stare at her.

She shifts so her head rests better on my shoulder.

Damn, I should really let her go now, but there’s something horribly reassuring about feeling a beautiful woman’s flesh on mine.

It’s been so long.

I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself this indulgence.

“Are you cold?” I ask, noticing the tremble in her shoulders.

“No. You?”

I shake my head.

“I guess I’m just processing.” She laughs a little then, her breath warm against my skin. “That turned me inside out, I’m not gonna lie.”

“You’re not half-bad,” I agree, biting back a smile.

“Look, I know you probably haven’t been with a girl since Abe Lincoln was President, but FYI. ‘Bad’ can’t be in your vocabulary after sex like that.” She smacks my cheek playfully. “Now do you think we scared the otters?”

Little brat.

I can’t resist touching her, palming the dip of her waist, feeling how fragile and perfect she is against me.

For such a slip of a woman, she took my cock like she was made for it.

Even now, seeing her naked almost does me in, obliterating what’s left of my well-worn sanity.

Knowing she was so wet for me made it even better.

The desire in her eyes almost convinces me this is something we should be doing.

Like she wasn’t sleeping with me for attention or because she was temporarily overwhelmed with the excitement strumming every nerve.

Fuck, why can’t I let her go?

It’s been a long damn time since I let anyone in like this.

Cuddling.

On the goddamned barren ground, no less, but cuddling all the same.

And she’s not pulling away yet, finding her clothes, making awkward excuses for why she has to leave.

There’s a distant splashing sound that may or may not be the otters.

“I don’t think we scared them away,” I say. “Did you get all the pictures you wanted?”

“I think so. I got a few videos too.” Her sigh is pure contentment. “Did you see them all? There were eight.”

I saw the little animals, sure, but they had nothing on watching her.

The way her eyes lit up, the breathless joy across her face, the way her cheeks flushed as she held her breath.

No one fakes that shit.

There’s no pretending you have a heart as big as a Sweeter Grind cinnamon roll unless it’s really there in all of its massive, sugary goodness.

Everything about Destiny Lancaster is one long lethal sugar rush, and I just caught hyperglycemia.

Part of me knew how much shit I was in even before her clothes came off.

When she looked at me like I’m the one who put otters on planet Earth after talking about them like we were old friends, there was no stopping the inevitable.

Not with the way she stepped up and offered her mouth.

An invitation straight to my soul.

The memory alone reminds my cock that once wasn’t nearly enough as a dark realization sets in.

Once with a girl like her would be a bigger sin than delving into this madness in the first place.

I clear my throat, eager to distract my growing erection.

“We should come to an understanding,” I say.

“You mean unlike with the kiss? So now he wants to talk,” she teases.

I pinch the skin of her waist.

“Yes, you little smart-ass.”

“Okay! You first. I’m dying to hear this.”

My jaw clenches as I ponder my words.

Everything and nothing stews in my head.

Honestly, I hate this shit.

Words are hard when I know how destructive they can be.

Talking about forbidden sex ruins the magic, too, but there’s no way around it.

“First, we need to talk about the fact that I had sex with you.”

“Um, yeah, it happened. What else is there to say? Are you still trying to make it sound like you forced it? That couldn’t be further from the truth.”

I shake my head violently.

“That’s not my point. The fact that it happened at all means we need ground rules, Destiny. Don’t get me wrong, it was damned good. Still, that doesn’t mean it should have happened or change the fact that—”

“The fact that you’re still a huge, uptight, grumpy asshole? Trust me, I know.” She sighs playfully, and I feel the way the air floods out of her. It makes me hold her closer. “But I know what you mean. I get it, and you don’t have to worry, Shepherd. This doesn’t have to mean more. And… and I’m mature enough not to let it go to my head and turn it into something it wasn’t.”

I want to believe her.

But then why does she sound so disappointed?

“It was pure impulse, yeah. It overwhelmed us in the moment,” I say carefully.

“Yeah.”

“Since we also agree that the attraction was mutual, we can be clear about what it was and wasn’t.” I hope it makes some sense to her because it isn’t computing for me.

My brain still can’t believe I’m having this conversation.

“I guess it’s kinda pointless, trying to deny it,” she says, pressing her lips to my collarbone.

The kiss feels so casual, so affectionate, so natural.

It renders me fucking speechless.

“Right or wrong, this can’t continue. As soon as we get back to Seattle, this can’t happen again,” I grind out.

“Understood,” she whispers.

“Not ever,” I say firmly, mostly because my dick is taking a horrible amount of convincing right now. “Also, I appreciate you saying you’ll keep this discreet. I had no business complicating your life, yet the fact that you’re willing not to mess up mine more than it already is means a hell of a lot. Thank you.”

“It’s cool, I… I know,” she says, shifting in my arms.

I press my jaw against her hair.

Damn, her scent floods my nostrils again.

Coconut and sea salt and something quintessentially Destiny.

“But it’s fine, Shepherd. Really and truly. I don’t drag things out publicly, no matter how ugly it gets. I’m not Vanessa Dumas.”

No kidding.

I’m starting to believe her in a way I never did with Dumas.

The hand I have on her waist itches, hounding me to explore more of her.

There are so many dips and curves, so many virgin places I haven’t mapped yet with my mouth.

Last time was too fast, too explosive, all animalistic need and primal itches.

Since we’re not back in Seattle yet, there’s time.

I want her again and this time I’ll devour her as fast as I damn well please.

She wiggles closer, twining her legs with mine. It’s like she can read my mind.

Her knee brushes my hard-on, and then there’s no hiding it.

“Destiny, fuck.”

What else can I say?

She knows I’m as hard as diamond.

What man wouldn’t be with a blonde angel wrapped around him?

An angel he has roughly one more day with to squeeze an entire lifetime of crazy sex into.

She grins, twisting so she looks up at me.

Her nipples are puckered already, brushing my chest.

It’s a heroic effort just keeping my eyes on her face.

“You know…” She taps a finger against my chest. “We’re not back in Seattle yet.”

“Damn right,” I agree, taking her mouth.

She gives back a moan, nudging my cock with her knee.

The wicked grin I feel against my lips is one of the most beautifully filthy things I’ve ever experienced.

“Something tells me you’re awfully attracted to me, Mr. Foster.”

“Start Mr. Fostering me and you’ll find out just how awful I can be,” I growl back, twisting her words. “Besides, lady, if I wasn’t attracted to you, this never would have happened to begin with.”

I hover over her, pressing my cock against her clit, dangerously aware I don’t know where my pants are and I’m not even sure I have a second condom.

“What I mean is, you’re still attracted to me…”

“You think I wouldn’t be? You think one damn time got it out of my system? How can such a brilliant woman be so dumb?” I whisper, stroking her hair. “I’ve been awestruck since the minute you barked shit at me on Alki Point.”

She shifts her hips, her eyelids fluttering as her pussy grinds against my length, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Shepherd… I don’t think you’re picking up what I’m putting down.”

“No? Try me.” I shift my hand to her peach perfect ass. It’s even better naked than I thought it would be. I’ll be dreaming about that ass for years.

“So,” she says, kissing me hotly, her tongue in her mouth twisting against mine with filthy promises. “Why don’t we take an extra day before we head back? Make the most of the time we’re here since this has to end the second we’re back.”

Damn her, I’m a busy man.

But one more teasing flick of her tongue has me ready to clear my schedule for the next month just to keep playing caveman in paradise lost.

She’s that lithe and small and incandescent.

Without breaking the kiss, she squirms out from under me and climbs on top, spreading her legs and straddling me.

“Well?” she whispers, grabbing my cock and rubbing it against her pussy lips. “What do you say to one more day? And knowing I have an IUD?”

“One more damn day, Destiny. I—fuck!”

Every dirty dream I’ve ever had comes true the second her hot little pussy engulfs me.

She throws her head back like a dream, filling herself up, taking an unexpected control I need back before my nut hits far too soon.

It’s hard to hold back, knowing I’m going to flood her.

I’m barely human as I reach for her breasts, kneading and squeezing until her eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

“C-careful,” she says, her voice heavy, hazy with lust. “We don’t want to scare the otters.”

“Bull. You’re the one screaming, woman,” I growl, dropping a hand to her hips and quickening my rhythm.

“Don’t be difficult…” she whispers.

“Then don’t live in denial,” I tell her, driving deeper.

The way her hands go tense on my chest, nails raking my skin, tells me she’s well on her way to being gone.

Definitely two minutes later, when my thrusts throw her around like a doll and my hands grip her little ass so tight my fingers burn.

I’m greedy, even as I take her pleasure, pulling her in when her breath catches in that way that tells me she’s about to come.

“Let it go, sweetheart,” I whisper, dragging her face against my shoulder. “Bite me if you’re worried about being too loud.”

Goddamn, does she ever.

And she comes her ever living soul out with her teeth in my skin, growling her release.

I’m in deep fucking trouble now, and I don’t just mean the explosive heat rampaging up my spine from my balls.

I’m going to wear her bruises on my shoulder like a badge of honor for the next week, and possibly forever in my mind.

I’ll always remember how sweetly Destiny Lancaster comes for me until I draw my last breath.

There’s no stopping the frantic tempo, the grinding, even when she’s through the fiercest part of her release.

Then it’s my turn and I can’t hold back.

With a vicious sound, I fling her up and down on my cock, striking hard and deep and burying myself inside her until I erupt.

Fuck!

So much come rushes out of me I wonder if I’ve sprouted a third testicle.

I’ve never, ever filled a woman the way I empty inside her—and she’s only the second I’ve ever had without a condom.

I don’t fuck random bedmates without serious protection, and I damned sure don’t brand them from the inside out like it’s all I live for, like I want to knock this woman up.

Perish the thought.

The orgasm must’ve melted my brain.

Still, I’m hard and twitching inside her when I come down from the high, my chest heaving as I listen to her panting.

“Holy shit. Shepherd, holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

I hold her, letting my lips work hers, slowly and tenderly devouring her.

I never knew more than my cock could be so needy with a woman, but here we are.

She’s a little mind reader, and she knows how I want it now.

Languidly.

Savoring every inch of her, feasting on her tits and pussy like a three-hour dinner. And she’s right there with me, teasing me, her eyes lit every time I suck a nipple into my mouth.

It’s so fuck-hot it’s irrational.

If it wasn’t for another twig poking my spine, two inches from crawling up my ass, I’d be right there with her.

“Hang on,” I say, taking hold and losing the damn stick.

She giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck, her face pressed against me.

I lie back down, and she joins me in so much skin on sweltering skin.

It feels too good in the morning heat, too addictive.

It makes me forget that I’m still rolling around the grass and leaves.

Destiny grins up at me. Must be the endorphins, because the last and only time I’ve seen her look this happy was when she was watching the otters.

“Is it too uncomfortable? There’s a blanket in my bag…” She presses her lips against my collarbone, then my neck, working her way back up to my mouth.

“I’m good,” I mutter, pinning her down for good measure.

“Just good?” she teases.

Her mouth is mere inches from mine and I capture every breath.

Shit, I can feel the way her thighs tighten around me, calling me home.

“You know how good, brat.” I press my cock against her as she laughs again.

The uncertainty from before vanishes, and she’s lighter than air.

This time, it’s not the otters putting that giddy smile on her face.

It’s me.

The man who stopped smiling when his marriage blew apart and everybody thought it was blowback for helping rat on my gangster uncle.

The idiot who’s currently doing his damnedest to invite more disaster into his life.

But Destiny is still laughing against me, stamping long, slow kisses up my shoulder.

I reach for her nipple, roll it slowly between my fingers, searching for just the right pressure she adores.

“Oh,” she moans breathlessly a second later. “You can go harder.”

“Harder,” I repeat, something carnivorous grinning inside me.

So she likes it rough, huh?

The lust pulsing through my veins makes me a human hand grenade as I pull her in so I can bite her tits.

The moan that slips through her teeth is the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever heard. No question.

“Quiet,” I tease, my voice guttural. “You’ll scare the otters.”

“Shepherd!”

Goddamn, I hate that I like it so much when she says my name.

“I want you inside me again,” she moans.

“Tell me. Tell me what you like,” I demand.

My cock jerks, already aching to fuck her again.

It’s a need so primal it feels like possession but this isn’t the time to overanalyze it.

I want her. I’m going to have her like the greedy prick I am.

That’s all there is to it.

She takes hold of me, running her hand up and down my shaft. I suck in a breath at the spiking pleasure.

“Careful, Foster,” she says with a smirk. “Don’t scare the otters, you said.”

“If you think they haven’t seen us mating before—” Before I can finish that sentence, she slides down, pumping my dick, and my whole heart stalls.

The first two times were heaven.

This time, it’s heroin.

Pure, undiluted pleasure pulsing through my veins like a drug.

I let her take her sweet time, feeling me, adjusting her little fingers to my size.

Some women find it harder to even fit me.

Not my Dess.

She begs with her hips, stroking my length, and only stops when I’m finally pushing inside her, loving how I can feel my last eruption in her wetness.

“Oh, God,” she breathes.

She laughs a little, leaning down until her forehead rests against mine.

“Yeah. Stay for a second.” I run my hands along her hips, her ass, lifting her up and squeezing.

“Why?”

“So I don’t fucking come in you already. It’s been twice in twelve hours and it shouldn’t be a risk, but it is. That’s what you do to me, Miss Destiny.”

She blushes as I kiss her and softens, so pliant and easy and so fucking sexy I’m losing whatever’s left of my mind.

The first thrust is good.

The second, divine.

The third makes me a starving beast, especially when her plush lips part and I hear her say it.

Shepherd.”

I push into her again, moving her until she’s at just the right angle, the best where I reach deep inside her, where I can feel her squeeze around my entire length.

I rub her clit, intent on blowing her apart in ways she never imagined.

Her nails dig at my shoulder like she knows it, but I don’t let myself go too fast this time.

I want her to lose it.

I want to feel her come on my cock again before I blow.

I want to destroy her and put her back together again.

Her breath comes shorter, faster, and I feel her little pussy fluttering around me.

“That’s right, Dess.” I press with my thumb, rubbing harder, cutting swift circles around her clit, though it’s about all I can do to remember to move my hips and my thumb independently.

My focus slips away with every stroke, even faster after I send her crashing over the ledge the first time.

Destiny comes hard, pulsing around my cock, pleading for me to join her.

Not yet.

Not fucking yet.

And I know—I know—that whatever ugly, messy disaster happens next, I’ll never forget the way she moves to straddle me, her hair beautifully messy, falling in well-fucked tangles on both sides of her face and her blue-green eyes half-closed and dazed with pleasure.

“Here’s your chance to wow me, woman. Ride me as hard as you want, all the way home,” I whisper, crashing my hand against her ass.

It’s all the encouragement she needs.

Her mouth parts with surprise.

The pressure at the base of my balls builds like a brewing storm.

“Shepherd,” she whispers, bracing her hands against my chest and swaying, finding the perfect spot inside her, and fuck, fuck it feels so good.

I’m done for.

“Shepherd,” she gasps. “Shepherd!”

“Come for me, Destiny. Need to feel you first.”

She obeys magnificently.

And all I can see are stars.

She tosses her head back, biting down on her lip so she doesn’t belt her screams into the wild, and her body shudders with the raw force of her orgasm hitting like a hammer.

I feel the way she squeezes my cock, so tight my vision goes, and there’s no holding back.

Growling with delight, I release inside her, vaguely aware of birds launching from the trees as the whole universe becomes a mundane backdrop to our perfect wrong.

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