We drive home in silence, the rumbling purr of the luxury car’s engine underscoring my confusion.


    I was so certain this was silliness. A whim to satisfy my curiosity, nothing more. But he’s charmed me and surprised me with his maturity. For someone who could afford to build a colony on the moon and send everyone on Earth to live there, he’s surprisingly normal.


    Then there was that kiss.


    That kiss.


    Erotic and possessive with an edge of desperation, it knocked me right off my feet. If I wasn’t clinging to his shoulders, I probably would’ve puddled onto the floor.


    I still feel drunk from it.


    A new and disturbing thought intrudes: he’s obviously had a lot of practice.


    When I speak, I’m looking straight ahead out the windshield into the night. The dark is always good for confessions.


    “I met my husband at a football game my senior year in college. I was a Bruin, he was an alumni of USC. The Trojans won by andslide. They ughtered us. We didn’t even score. I wonder sometimes if I should’ve taken that as a sign.”


    A few blocks pass before Carter speaks. “You said you didn’t believe in fate.”


    “I don’t. I was talking about going into things with open eyes.”


    “Lots of people went to USC.”


    “I’m not saying I think you’re like him because you attended the same school.”


    “Then what are you saying?”


    I turn and look at his profile, handsome and strong and so very, very young.


    “I don’t do casual, Carter. I wish I could. It would make life easier, but I’m not built that way. Since the divorce, I’ve gone on eight dates with men I met online. I won’t go into the ugly details, but they left me convinced I’m better off concentrating on my career and raising my daughter than trying to find another rtionship.”


    “So you’ll be alone for the rest of your life?”


    “I’m not alone. I have family. I have friends. I have a vibrator. It’s enough.”


    “Wow. Those must’ve been some pretty shitty dates.”


    “You have no idea.”


    We drive for a while, both lost in our thoughts, until we pull up to a stoplight and he turns to me, his gaze and energy intense.


    “You think I’m too young for you.”


    Iugh softly. “The thought had urred to me.”


    “You think I’ll break your heart.”


    “I hadn’t gotten that far, but it does seem inevitable.”


    “A wedding could be inevitable too.”


    My God, the pure sincerity of that. The innocent insanity. The sweet delusion. I reach up and stroke his cheek.


    “I’m sure a wedding is in your future, crazy person, but it’s definitely not with me as your bride.”


    “Would you say that if we were the same age?”


    “I don’t entertain hypotheticals. We’re not the same age, and we never will be. The light is green.”


    “You like me, though.”


    “Yes, I do.”


    “And you liked that kiss.”


    “Are you hearing that honking? We’re holding up traffic.”


    “I don’t give a shit about traffic. Look at me, Sophia. Look at my face. Look into my eyes. Tell me what you see.”


    Car horns re behind us. Someone leans out a window and shouts. Carter stares at me unblinkingly, his energy and attention focused on me and me alone.


    “I see psychosis.”


    “Bullshit.”


    “I see a man ignoring his promise to rx.”


    “That was during dinner. Dinner’s over. I’m done rxing. Can I kiss you again?”


    “No.”


    He exhales hard and grumbles, “Damn. I shouldn’t have asked.”


    He’s so deted, I take pity on him. I lean over and brush my lips gently against his cheek. “Yes, you should have,” I whisper into his ear as the car horns reach a crescendo. “Now drive. If you behave yourself the rest of the way back to my house, I’ll give you another kiss at the door. Maybe two.”


    His grin is blinding. He guns the engine and peels out, leaving me ttened against the back of the seat andughing helplessly though I should be hollering at him to slow down.


    What the hell. You only live once.


    We reach my street so fast, we might as well have been transported by time travel. Carter ms the car into park, shuts off the engine, and leaps out of the car. Before I can even think about opening my door, he’s doing it for me.


    He takes my outstretched hand and helps me rise from my seat.


    As soon as I’m standing, he drops my hand and runs straight to my front door, where he turns around and waits for me on the step, grinning and bouncing up and down on his toes in anticipation.


    Smothering augh, I close the car door and walk toward him. I take my time because watching him fidget impatiently is weirdly pleasing.


    I reach the front step and stop to shake my head at him. “What am I going to do with you?”


    The question thrills him. He sucks in a breath, eyes widening. “Oh fuck, everything. All the things. Right this second.”


    “No, don’t grab my arm. Stand there like a good boy and control yourself.”


    He drops his arms to his sides and stares down at me with red nostrils and unblinking eyes, a dog with a biscuit perched on the end of its nose, waiting for permission to scarf down the treat.


    “It’s interesting how sometimes you take direction so well, but other times you’repletely feral.”


    Staring at my mouth, he moistens his lips. “I could tell you why, but it’s one of those things where you might think I’m unhinged again.”


    “That train has already left the station. Tell me.”


    “When you call me a good boy, I…”


    He shakes his head as if he can’t find the right words. A shiver of excitement runs through his chest.


    Looking up at him, I cock my head. “You like it?”


    He swallows. A muscle in his jaw flexes. He nods, stops for a moment, then nods again more vigorously. “A lot. Like, a lot a lot.”


    “Words are escaping you again, hmm? That expensive education of yours was a waste.”


    “Don’t tease me. You’re killing me. I need to kiss you now.”


    “Not out here on the porch. Come inside for a minute.”


    He steps reluctantly aside, allowing me to unlock the front door. I usher him into the darkened foyer, d I didn’t leave a light on in the living room earlier because kissing in the shadows is so much more erotic than under the unttering re of overhead lights.


    I close the door behind him, toss my handbag onto the console table, and turn back to him. ttening my hand over his chest, I give him a gentle push. His back hits the door.


    “Stand right there. Don’t move unless I tell you to.”


    Staring at me with feverish eyes, he says hoarsely, “Oh my God, you’re so fucking hot. I’m having a heart attack. I’m dying.”


    “Hush.”


    I press my body against his. Reaching up, I sink both hands into his hair and angle his head until our mouths are mere inches apart.


    “I didn’t say you could grab my ass, Carter.”


    He digs his fingers deeper into my bottom. “I’ll ask for forgivenesster. I want your mouth. Gimme.”


    He leans closer. I dodge him,ughing softly because wow, am I having fun.


    “Not so fast. It’s one kiss. Let’s make it a good one, shall we?”


    “The only way it couldn’t be good is if I die from bliss one second in. Even then, it would be good, but you know what I’m saying. The longer, the better. We could stand here all night and make out, and I’d go to my grave fifty years from now a happy man from reliving the memory.”


    “You’re babbling. And panting a bit.”


    “I’ve never been this turned on in my life.”


    That makes two of us. My nipples ache, my skin is flushed, and a cyclone of burning desire pulses between my thighs. I lift my chin, bringing our mouths closer, and shiver in delight when he exhales a soft moan.


    “Mr. McCord, is that your wallet poking at me?”


    “Please,” he whispers, his voice full of need. “Please let me taste you again.”


    New kink unlocked: hearing this gorgeous young man beg for me.


    I rub my breasts against his chest and hold his head in ce when he tries to take my mouth. Breathing hard now, he grips my ass and flexes his hips into mine.


    I press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, then murmur, “Be a good boy, and I’ll let you.”


    He shudders. It runs through his whole body, even his hands, and causes a riot to explode inside me, a maelstrom of sensation including heat, giddiness, and profound desire.


    But mostly power.


    I’m lightning. I’m thunder. I’m the molten core of the earth spitting great plumes of magma high into the sky.


    I press my lips to the other corner of his mouth, then softly kiss both his cheeks. He remains still except for his trembling hands, which grip my ass possessively.


    His eyes are closed. His lips are parted. He waits, so sweet in his self-denial. His entire body strains toward me, but he holds himself in check all from the simple power of my words.


    French toast, this is intoxicating. My panties are soaking wet.


    Into his ear, I breathe, “I’m going to kiss your neck. Be good for me and don’t move.”


    The faintest moan escapes his lips, but he remains perfectly still, his only movement the rapid rise and fall of his chest and his uncontrobly trembling hands.


    I press my lips to his throat.


    His skin is hot. His pulse races under my lips. His erection throbs against my hip. He smells divine, better than a cookie right out of the oven. Better than buttery, fresh-baked bread.


    I know all the foodparisons are because he makes me so damn hungry, I just want to gobble him up. Dinner was only a short while ago, but I’m ravenous.


    When I suck hard against the vein hammering in the side of his neck, he drops his head back and moans. Loudly. It’s the single most erotic sound I’ve ever heard.


    I lightly bite his neck, then press a soft kiss to the spot to take the sting away.


    His “Please” is so soft, it’s almost inaudible.


    “Are you being good?”


    He groans, then babbles, “I’m being good I’m being so fucking good I can’t wait anymore I’m dying!”


    Iugh softly, pleased. “So dramatic.”


    He makes a garbled sound of frustration and bangs the back of his head three times against the door.


    “All right, Carter. Look at me.”


    He lifts his head and opens his eyes. Even in the shadows, I can see that his pupils are blown. He looks like he snorted something up his nose. His arms are wrapped hard around me and his chest is heaving, and I literally cannot ever remember being this sexually excited.


    Watching him get so turned on turns me on.


    Shit. I can already tell this is going to getplicated.


    “You may kiss me n—”


    He falls on my mouth like a starving man before I’ve even finished the sentence, thrusting his tongue between my lips and delving deep. I match his passion, hungrily kissing him back. He spins me around and pins me against the door, pressing the full length of his strong body against mine.


    We kiss until I’m dizzy. And still, we don’t stop.


    “I want to touch you everywhere. I want to taste your skin. I want to fuck you up against this door, and when I make youe, I want to get on my knees and fuck you with my tongue and drink every drop of you until you can’t stand up anymore.”


    His lips move against mine. His voice is hoarse with desire. His words enme me to a fever pitch.


    No man has ever been so explicit inmunicating his wants to me before.


    I love it.


    We kiss again. I break away before I let myself go too far and stand staring at him with my trembling fingers pressed to my lips.


    He blurts, “I’m sorry.”


    “Why are you sorry?”


    Breathing hard, he shakes his head. “You look upset. What did I do wrong?”


    “You didn’t do anything wrong. That was amazing.”


    He’s confused and disheveled, his eyes still hazy with desire. “Then why did you stop?”


    “Because I was getting close to the point where I couldn’t.”


    Blinking slowly, he licks his lips. He drags both hands through his hair and sucks in a breath. When he exhales, he scrubs his hands over his face and shakes his head again, as if trying to awaken from a dream.


    “Okay. Okay. Wow. I’m…I might need to sit down.”


    “You’re dizzy too?”


    “Totally. And disoriented. What are we on? What year is it?”


    His adorable befuddlement makes meugh. I move closer and gently straighten the cor of his shirt, then smooth my hands down his chest. He rests his hands on my hips, pulls me against him, touches his forehead to mine, and sighs.


    “Well, now you’ve done it.”


    “Done what?”


    “Ruined me, Sophia. You’ve ruined me for other women.”


    Smiling, I chide, “That isn’t thepliment you think it is. But…”


    His eyelids pop open. “But what?”


    Toying with a button on his shirt, I say lightly, “Maybe we could have another non-date sometime.”


    He tries to hide his excitement, but the tremor that runs through his chest gives him away. There’s a tremor in his voice too, when he teases, “You just want another free meal, you moocher.”


    “Guilty as charged. I’m a freeloader from way back.”


    We’re smiling at each other. It feels good to lean against him like this and look up into his eyes. It feels natural.


    He demands suddenly, “What are you thinking?”


    “Carter, really. Must you know my every thought?”


    “Yes. I absolutely must. If you could do a stream-of-consciousness narration of what you’re thinking and feeling when we’re together, it would be perfect.”


    “You’re not big on mystery, hmm?”


    He shudders. “God, no. I hate it. Promise me you won’t be aloof either. I’ll die from the anxiety. I’d rather have you tell me t-out to my face that I bore you and you never want to see me again than if you act nonchnt and string me along. Anything’s better than ambiguity. I need to know where I stand.”


    He stares straight into my eyes, serious and intense, all the teasing from moments before vanished. I senseyers of meaning beneath those words,yers that go far too deep to delve into this evening.


    He’s been hurt before, that much is obvious.


    There goes that stupid bog witch, melting again. At this pace, there will be nothing left of her by next week but fond memories.


    I take his face in my hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Okay, handsome,” I murmur. “Here’s what I’m thinking.”


    “So you do think I’m handsome. I knew it.”


    “Quiet.”


    In a yful whisper, he says, “Yes, ma’am.”


    “You’re a terrible flirt.”


    “I know.” His grin dies. “Wait, do you mean terrible good or terrible bad? Like I have no idea what I’m doing? Am I making a fool of myself?”


    “If you don’t shut up, we’ll be here all night.”


    He pauses for a beat. “And the problem with that is…?”


    I drop my forehead to his chest and dissolve into helplessughter. “What am I going to do with you?”


    Into my ear, he whispers, “I already told you. All the things.”


    “It was a rhetorical question.”


    “My answer still stands. And it’s genius, if I do say so myself.”


    How is he this disarming? Every time I think I’ve got my footing, he pulls the rug out from under me.


    Smiling, I look up at him. “If you’re doneplimenting yourself, I’ll continue.”


    “I’m done.”


    “Good. As I was saying, I really enjoyed myself tonight. Thank you for dinner.”


    “You’re wee. What time should I pick you up tomorrow night?”


    “I never said anything about tomorrow night.”


    “How’s six?”


    “Are you even listening to me?”


    “Yes. And I’m not hearing a no. I’ll pick you up at six.”


    He kisses me firmly on the mouth, then opens the front door and walks through it, swaggering off toward his car.


    I close the door and lock it before I sumb to the urge to call him back. Standing in the darkness, I listen to the growl of the Lamborghini’s engine as it starts up.


    I’m still standing there long after it has faded into silence and the only remaining sound is the fast, unsteady beat of my heart.