Fuck that. This woman owns me.

I grab my boxer briefs off the floor, using them to catch the mess as I force myself to slide my dick out of her. I could happily stay inside her forever. Get me a phone with a never-ending battery life and I could do my business right here, while I give her the business.

God, I’m a fucking pervert.

I lift Holly off the couch and into my arms. Her head lolls against my chest, and her arms hang limp.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Let’s get you in the bath and clean you up.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I chuckle at her languid response, and love that I’m the reason for it.

Settling her on the side of the tub, I flip on both faucets. Given that it’s the size of a small pool, it’ll take a while for it to fill. Without the insane water pressure I have, it would take an hour.

Crouching in front of her, I lift her chin and meet her still-dilated eyes. “You okay, babe? That was pretty intense.” She nods silently. “Give me the words.”

“I’m okay. I’m really, really . . . okay.”

I smile at her response and rest a hand on her thigh, not far from the pussy that has me by the balls.

“You want me to take the plug out?”

A pretty pink blush covers her face, and her gaze drops away from mine as she shakes her head.

“Is that a no?” Another silent nod. “Words, Holly.”

“No. I don’t want you to take it out yet,” she whispers to the floor.

My cock goes rock hard. Moments ago, I would have bet my jet that couldn’t happen this fast. I would have been wrong—and flying commercial.

“And why’s that?”

Her blush deepens when she replies, “Because I like it. And if I like that this much, I want to know what else I might . . . you know . . . like more. Which I’m assuming requires a little, um, prep? So yeah. That’s why.”

I feel her words in my dick and somewhere deep in my gut.

“Jesus Christ, Holly. You’re fucking amazing.”

I stand, scoop her back up, and settle us both in the partially filled tub. I keep her cradled in my arms, not wanting to let go of her yet. It’s like I’m worried that somehow she’ll slip away and I’ll lose her—and that’s not something I want to contemplate.

She leans her head against my chest, and I brush her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. I don’t know what I’m hoping to see in them, but I know I need this connection as much as I think she does.

This is a novel feeling for me. Even with the few longer-term relationships I’ve had, I’ve never felt like this. I knew she was something special; I wouldn’t have done what I did and married her if I didn’t think so. But it was a crazy-ass stunt I cooked up on the spur of the moment, and I would have never guessed I’d start to feel like . . . this.

Whatever the hell this is.

I refuse to eat naked, and Creighton’s narrowed gaze doesn’t change my mind.

And so instead, I’m wearing his T-shirt and sitting in the middle of his dining room table. It’s a very Sixteen Candles moment. I could swear I’m in the last scene, and I should be sitting on Jake Ryan’s table with Samantha’s birthday cake between us.

Except we don’t have a birthday cake between us—we have enough sushi for a party of five—and I’ve just lost another kind of virginity tonight, because I’ve never eaten raw fish before. I figured, what the hell, I’ve already done something way more off the wall, so why not? And I’m glad I did, because it was a-maz-ing.

I’m a total klutz with chopsticks, so I give up and pick up the piece of something Creighton called a rainbow roll and dip it into soy sauce mixed with a small bump of wasabi. I hold my hand under it to catch the drips as I lift it to my mouth, already anticipating the symphony of flavors I’m about to unleash.

Creighton’s smile is downright amused, but I don’t care. He might as well see how completely unsophisticated I still am in so many ways. At least he won’t expect to take me out to some fancy restaurant until I’ve had time to master chopsticks. It’s not like we used them to eat hot wings at the bowling alley.

I moan in delight as I savor the taste of the sushi I’ve just popped into my mouth. It’s so damn good, and I say so to Creighton as soon as my mouth isn’t stuffed full.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I can’t believe I never wanted to try it before. If I’d only known what I was missing . . .”

“I’m glad you’re open to trying new things, Holly.” His lips twitch into a less amused smile. “I can’t wait to see what we can conquer next.”

I lift my sweet tea, procured by Creighton at my request, to take a sip. “It’ll have to wait until after the tour.” I note Creighton’s frown and add, “You didn’t forget that, right?”

“No, but I forgot to tell the pilot.”

Oh, that’s not a good sign. “Maybe you should do that?”

He shoves a hand through his hair and slides off the table. I’m hoping he’s taking care of the situation, and in the meantime I watch the play of the muscles in his back, all the way down the waistband of his gym shorts, as he crosses the dining room and disappears into the kitchen. His voice carries, and I’m pleased to hear he’s making the call.

I pick up his half of the conversation.

“This is Karas. I’ll need the jet the day after tomorrow. Make sure it’s ready by four.”

“Good. Text me if anything comes up in preflight.”

“Thanks.”

I’m feeling the warm glow of contentment that he’s making sure I’m going to get back to Nashville early when he heads back into the dining room and climbs back onto the table. But not on his side. He settles himself behind me, lifting me so I sit on his lap.

“We’re going to teach you to eat with chopsticks.”

“This is going to get messier than it already is, then.”

“So be it.” He grabs the chopsticks with his left hand and places them in my right hand, positioning my fingers awkwardly around them. “Like this.”

He guides my chopstick-holding hand to the sushi and manipulates my fingers until we’ve picked up a piece and dipped it in soy sauce. Ever so carefully, we lift it toward my mouth. Which is right about when I realize what we’re doing is almost more intimate than when he bent me over the back of the couch.