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The anger I’d felt only moments ago—the raw, simmering fury toward Bill—faded into the background. In its place was something else, something that warmed me from the inside out, that settled deep in my chest and cracked me open.

“I’ve been locked in my room, hopped up on four cups of coffee, trying to piece this together, narrowing down the long list,” she said, grinning.

I swallowed hard, my voice so tense the words barely came out clearly as I whispered, “You hate coffee.”

It was all I could manage, and Eleanor laughed—a beautiful, breathless sound that sent another ripple of warmth through me.

Very few people had ever gone to bat for me like this. No one ever stayed up, sacrificed sleep, pushed themselves to the limit just to make sure I was taken care of.

No one ever took care of me.

I’d been looking out for myself since the moment I could walk. The idea of letting someone else in, of letting her in…it was terrifying. It was unfamiliar.

It was a rush, unlike anything I’d ever known.

Leaning into that feeling, I grabbed her face and crashed my lips against hers.

I kissed her like she was the last woman on earth.

Because to me, she was.

Eleanor was it for me. The only woman I’d ever give myself to again.

She kissed me back just as fiercely, our mouths moving together in a slow, consuming rhythm, our tongues tangling in a way that felt less like lust and more like something deeper, something inevitable.

This wasn’t just hunger.

It was need.

A desperate, aching need to have her in every way possible.

To make her mine.

My hands slid from Eleanor’s face down to her hips, gripping them firmly as I lifted her onto my desk. The impact sent a tremor through the surface, rattling everything in its wake, but neither of us cared. She moaned against my lips, her hands grasping at my throat, pulling me in like she couldn’t get close enough.

And God help me, I didn’t think we could get any closer either.

I tore my mouth from hers, my breath heavy as I stared into her dark, hooded eyes. Her lips were swollen, slick from our kiss, and her cheeks were tinged with the faintest flush. The color ran deeper, tracing down her neck, a tell of her arousal.

The urge to strip her bare, to see if that same soft pink hue dusted her chest, her stomach, the curves of her body, coiled hot inside me.

She panted in the silence, her chest rising and falling in sync with mine. Outside, the night was still. No voices, no sounds from the hallway. Just the vast, endless sky stretching beyond the windows, a blanket of stars casting a faint glow into the room.

It was just us.

No distractions. No interruptions.

Only her. Only me.

And the undeniable pull that neither of us could ever seem to fight.

There was no doubt in my mind I was going to take Eleanor right on my desk, devour her sweet pussy until she screamed my name without a care in the world if anyone else heard. Hell, I almost wished they would, so they’d know this woman had me wrapped around her fucking finger.

In a swift motion, I swiped everything from my desk, needing all the space to lay her down and worship her. The objects fell to the ground with a loud crack, pens flying and papers drifting in the air until they fell quietly against the hardwood.

Then, I pulled her legs, laying her back flush against the wood, her ass hanging half off the desk, giving me perfect access.

Eleanor let out a soft whimper, squirming like she, too, needed her clothes off. Hooking my thumbs into her pants—making sure her underwear came with them—I pulled down and removed them completely. Her soft skin was on display, and my mouth watered, knowing that my lips would be pressed against her in the most intimate way.