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not that strong. It’s like you’re possessed.”
    “I’m not possessed. Just horny.”
    Reese was peering at her. “I don’t think so. Something is eating at you.”
    “Nothing is eating at me.” Kelly was closer to Reese than anyone else, but there was no way in hell she would tell her about Caleb or her mother.
    “Okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
    Kelly sighed, feeling like she’d hurt Reese’s feelings. She hated feeling guilty like that, and Reese was the only one who could make her feel that way so easily.
    “I’m sorry. I just can’t talk about it now.”
    Reese’s expression relaxed. “Well, tell me later, then. Did you meet someone?”
    Kelly rolled her eyes at the sparkle in Reese’s. “No, I didn’t meet anyone.” It wasn’t exactly true, but meeting Caleb was closer to a nightmare than a potential romantic interest.
    Before Reese could reply, Kelly’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out and blinked down at the screen for a long time after she read the words.
    Let’s not call it seconds. Let’s just say it’s more of the first time. Tomorrow evening?
    Kelly’s breathing was loud and ragged as she stared down at the text. It was Caleb, although he hadn’t used his name. Asking to meet up with her again—in his typically clever, arrogant way.
    He’d probably killed her father, and now he was asking her for a date.
    He wanted to fuck her again, and her body kind of wanted it too.
    A surge of rage swept through her, the likes of which she’d never experienced before.
    “What is it?” Reese demanded, grabbing Kelly’s arm. “What’s the matter? Did something happen?”
    Something had happened. Caleb Marshall had happened. And ten-year-old Kelly’s life had gone into a downward spiral she’d never been able to pull out of.
    But she wasn’t helpless. And she wasn’t weak.
    Caleb wasn’t as untouchable as he thought, and he wasn’t irresistible either.
    So Kelly tapped out her reply.
    I guess. As long as we’re not talking about seconds. They’re never as tasty as the first time.
    Not seconds. Dessert.

Chapter 3
    Caleb Marshall told himself not to be a heartless ass and to make the damn call.
    It was already four, which meant it was after ten in Paris. Pretty soon, it would be too late to phone, and he knew he needed to get it over with today.
    So he stopped procrastinating, hit send on an email, and reached over for his phone.
    He’d known Wes since first grade, but he hadn’t talked to him in more than two years. He hated making calls like this.
    “Fuck,” Wes said, answering on the second ring without any semblance of a greeting. “If even
you
are making a pity call, then I must be in really bad shape.”
    Typical.
    “Are you?”
    “What do you think?”
    “I have no idea. But I’m sorry about your mom.” Caleb said the words automatically, since they were the ones he’d called to say. They felt artificial, though, as if they weren’t what needed to be said.
    “Yeah. How did you hear?”
    “I ran into your dad the other day. What’s the prognosis?”
    “Two or three months? They don’t really know. They’ve got nothing left to try.”
    “We’ve got a couple of projects in the works, but they won’t be ready for clinical trials until next year.”
    “Yeah. There’s nothing to hope for here.”
    Caleb didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t like feeling that way. He was tempted to end the conversation quickly, but, if he had a friend in the world, it was Wes.
    “Are you coming home any time soon?” he asked at last.
    “I’m going to try to get over there in a couple of weeks.”
    “Good. Give me a call when you’re in town.”
    “Will do. Any new trauma with you?”
    “I don’t do trauma.”
    “I guess the one was enough for any lifetime.”
    A brief cringe shuddered through Caleb at the words.
    “It wasn’t a trauma.”
    “Yeah, it was. It just lasted more than a year.”
    Caleb sat in silence, his whole body tense for