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her sides as I moved my hands up to her ribs, pushing the fabric from her as I went.
    She kissed down my jaw and licked along the swirl of ink at the side of my neck. I groaned and pulled her to me, her hot cunt straddling my leg. My cock was already back in fighting form, pushing at my shorts and trying to get to the sweet paradise between her thighs.
    I pushed her top the rest of the way up and cupped her breasts, running my thumb over the erect tips. She slid her hands down my chest, her fingertips pressing against me and feeling every ridge and ripple as she went. When her fingers reached under the waistband of my shorts at the same time she nipped at my neck, I had to take her hands and pull them away.
    “Can you do this again so soon? Because if we keep going like this, I can’t stop. I won’t.” I couldn’t be anything but honest with her. I already wavered on the edge of throwing her onto the kitchen floor and fucking her black and blue.
    “I want to.” She strained against my hold, her fingers seeking my cock.
    Fuck. I released her and she reached into my shorts and palmed me. When she made contact, I hissed.
    “So that’s what it feels like.” She smiled.
    I let my head loll back as her fingers explored me. Then her mouth was on my nipple, teasing the barbell and running her teeth along the raised skin. My hips jerked as she squeezed my length in her small palm. I refused to come in her hand, but if she didn’t stop, I would.
    “Come on.” I pulled her to me and lifted her under her thighs.
    I was almost to my bedroom when a loud bang shattered the relative stillness of my apartment.
    “Michael? It’s Layla. Want to be my slutty valentine again this year?” Her words were slurred.
    Jess tensed in my arms and my heart sank. No matter how much I’d tried to change for her, my past was still there. She pushed against my hands so she could stand up.
    I reluctantly let her go.
    “It’s okay. I’ll just . . . I’ll just go back to my place.” She studied her feet, her dark hair hiding her eyes.
    I put my hands on her shoulders. “That’s my past. You’re my future. I’m sorry. Please, stay.”
    “Michael!” Layla called and banged on the door some more. I didn’t remember her, not even a little.
    “I just can’t.” She sidestepped me and walked away. I wanted to grab her, to tie her to my bed, to do anything but let her walk away. I didn’t. I wanted her to choose me as freely as I’d chosen her.

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Jess
     
     
     
     
     
    He followed me and opened the door. The need to escape blotted out any other thought. Jealousy and embarrassment swirled like a cyclone inside me. I hurried past a clearly trashed Layla and into my apartment. I clicked the lock over and whirled to see what he did with the willowy blonde at his door.
    “Hey, baby. Didn’t know you had company. Want some more?” She slid the spaghetti strap of her top off her shoulder, showing her breast to Michael.
    Rage boiled up inside me and I fisted my hands at my sides.
    “Stay here.” He shut the door in her face.
    “Are we playing dominant and submissive games?” she stage-whispered through the door. “I wait out here for you all obedient? I can do that.” She laughed and then dropped to her knees and bowed her head.
    A raging inferno couldn’t have pulled me away from that door. I watched and waited. What was he doing? The waiting gave me time to think, at least. Had I been too hasty in leaving? I wanted him. The way he’d explained changing for me, even though we were almost total strangers. It enthralled me instead of frightened me. He seemed so devoted, but then the model had shown up and rattled me out of the daydream. Had he really changed if a model still showed up at his door and declared herself his “valentine”?
    I stared as she played on her phone and leaned against his door.
    “Getting a bit chilly out here, love.” She rapped her knuckles on the wood.
    The elevator dinged. I