Page 24 of The Rebel Billionaire

"This time, we're going slower," he said. "If you keep doing that, I won't last fiveminutes."

"A big guy like you?" I teased. "Are you trying to say you don't have anystamina?"

He pinned my hands overmyhead.

"I've got plenty of stamina. I'll fuck you all night if you think you cantakeit."

"I can take it," I said, lying. I wanted to take it, but if I planned to walk the next day, going all night would leave me too soretomove.

It would beworthit.

We didn't go all night. Only halfofit.

We took a break to finish off the pizza, had sex again, thenpassedout.

Sometime after that, Lucas woke me with his hands on my breasts, his lips tugging on my nipple, then his body moving over mine. I drifted back to sleep after wefinished.

The next time I woke, I wasalone.

I lay flat on my back on the futon, letting my brain slowly come back online, random thoughts filtering through, one by one. I was cold, the chilly air from the portable air conditioner too much without Lucas's body heatbesideme.

It was late. Well past midnight, but too dark to be near dawn. I was sore. Not just between my legs, though I could feel the tenderness there and knew it would be worse once Istoodup.

No, I was sore all over. I wasn't in bad shape, but hauling around lumber was a different kind of workout than sitting at my desk and hitting the gym a few timesaweek.

More importantly, why was I awake? I sat up carefully, mindful of my sore muscles and tender body. Now that I was alone, it felt weird to be sleepingnaked.

I was too exposed, though there was no one here to see. Feeling my way in the dark, I found the nightshirt I'd left at the top of my duffel bag and pulled it overmyhead.

Wood creaked, then a thump. I froze, listening. Was that a shuffle? A foot on the floorboards? Or on the backporch?

My heart thumped faster in my chest, tingles of nerves tightening mystomach.

I was being ridiculous. There was noonehere.

I just wasn't used to living by myself, that was all. I sat on the floor, torn between trying to go back to sleep and admitting I was too on edge forslumber.

The house was silent around me, dark and empty. I stood up, deciding to go to the bathroom and drink a glass of water, maybe take a walk through the house to reassure myself that allwaswell.

I'd only taken three steps across the room when I heard it. Another thump and the creakofwood.

I knew thatcreak.

It was the exact sound the middle step made on the back porch when someone set their foot on it. My heart pounded harder, stealing my breath. I bit my lip, using the pain to pushbackfear.

I was overreacting. I hadtobe.

My trip to the bathroom forgotten, I pulled on a pair of underwear and silently searched the floor for my phone. There was no one out there, but on the off chance there was, I didn't want to be caught withoutunderwear.

The stupid things that shoot through my brain in acrisis.

Except that this was not acrisis.

You're overreacting, I told myself firmly.Go check it out, and you'll see that there's nothing to worryabout.

I straightened my spine, raised my chin, and crossed the room to the door, thinking quickly. If—and it was a big if—there was someone out there, was it smarter to hide or turn on thelights?

Turn on the lights, I decided. If I were Lucas, one of my brothers, or the Sinclairs, I might've left the lights off and tried to sneak up on whoever might be outthere.