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Maybe I got off on it too.

I locked up and turned on the security. I didn’t even remember the ride home. What the hell was that man doing to me? 

I pulled into my spot in the garage and sat in my car for a full five minutes. Was I truly so contrary as to enjoy fighting with him enough to get me wound up?

Pretty sure the answer was yes.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and slammed my door. The lobby was busy with the after-work crowd, so I sneaked up the stairs. I was still hiding from Deb, anyway. I was well aware that Gizmo had been due to be rehomed a week ago, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it tonight.

Speak of the devil, Gizmo wound his way around my ankles the moment I opened the door to my bedroom. “Hey, buddy.” 

He shot out of my room and into the living room. I sighed. If he wasn’t such a jerk, he could run free in the apartment. Stripping out of my clothes, I tossed them in the washer on my way to the bathroom and turned the taps on the hottest setting.

I needed the pummeling blast of water to wash him off me and put me back to rights. 

As usual, my body was equally loose and tight at the same time. No man had every touched me like Nolan did, both commanding and demanding at the same time.

He’d also talked a hell of a lot more than our first time. 

I tipped my head under the spray. If only it was so easy to wash him off me. His cinnamon scent was fully a part of me at this point. Which didn’t make sense in the least. We’d known each other for two weeks, and most of that time, we’d been avoiding each other. I shouldn’t be this messed up about him.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t enjoyed sex before. Sure, it had been a minute and a half, but I wasn’t a stranger to a quick fling. Sometimes people were only for a season, no matter how much pressure my mother was putting on me to settle down. It would happen when it was supposed to—period.

Which reminded me that I needed to call my mother back, as well. I wasn’t going there right now. Besides, I wasn’t sure where the heck they were. Since retiring, my parents loved to jet off on random holidays.

Which was probably a good thing. My mother was way too good at figuring out when I was interested in a guy. It didn’t matter if I didn’t want to be. I really didn’t need her taking a deep dive into my romantic life.

Nolan Devereaux wasn’t the settling down type. He as much as said it right to my face. I could either enjoy him for what it was—ultra hot, mind-bending sex—or I would have to find a way to keep my damn pants on around him.

I cupped my breast. The memory of his hand tucking inside to steal the condoms was annoying. There were flashes of a playful guy hiding under all the gruff annoyance.

What exactly made him want to push me away? Trying to figure that out was the road to madness.

Ugh! Just stop thinking about him!”

Instead of rushing through the shower, I made a point of doing the most. If my brain was a hot mess, at least the rest of me would look amazing. I used a mask on my hair, shaved every-damn-thing, and exfoliated within an inch of my life. 

Buffed and scrubbed, I made sure to use a few extra serums on my face to stop looking so freaking tired. I left my curls natural and added some activator to make my hair seem a little wild instead of focusing on the usual smoothing I painstakingly did. I played up my eyes with a bit of cat eye wings with my black eyeliner and finished with a dark lip.

“Not bad,” I said to my image in the mirror.

Since it was still hot as hell, I dug out a cute pair of black shorts from the back of my closet and found a beachy shirt in muted teal and burgundy V-stripes that emphasized my boobs and shoulders at the same time. I added a few stacked gold chains that dipped between my breasts with a delicate linked chain at my throat.

Instead of my usual fruity perfume, I went with a darker scent over the usual honey from my bodywash and lotion. I did a little turn in front of my full-length mirror. Pilates was a miracle because there was no way I was giving up my food.

I checked my phone to see TJ was already at the bar. The nice thing about my apartment was being so close meant yay, no fighting for parking.

I started to step into comfy sandals, then I went digging in my closet one more time. If I’d taken the time to make sure my legs looked amazing, I should emphasize it with my strappy heels.

Armor complete, I collected my cat and lured him back inside my bedroom with his favorite treats.

The guilt ate at me when he yowled as I closed the door.

“I’m sorry, dude. I promise I’m going to figure out a better solution.”

I wasn’t really sure how, but it had to happen soon. Davis and Deb were too busy with the plumbing situation—old building problems, I knew them well in my line of work—to be paying attention to my cat right now, but I was on borrowed time.

And so was my sweet cat.

I grabbed my keys, license, credit card, and lip gloss out of my bag and stuck them in my tiny clutch, then I locked up. In deference to my heels, I used the elevator, then I hustled through the lobby to the front doors.

Murray gave me a bright smile. “Got a date, Miss Dahlia?” Then he frowned. “Not that man from the other day.”

“Don’t like Nolan?”

He shook his head.

“Why?” Surprised that I felt the need to defend him, I didn’t say more.

“A man should take the time to hold doors for a lady. And definitely shouldn’t be so gruff with others.”

“Not everyone can be as sweet as you, Murray.” I patted his arm. “But no. I’m just going to meet my friends at Lonegan’s.”

“Oh. Well, enjoy yourself. But you’re sure not dressed for just a night out with the girls.”

“C’mon, Murray. Us women don’t only dress up for a man. We do it for ourselves too.”

“You’re right.” Chagrined, he took my hand between his. “My Katie would have my head for that one.”

Are sens

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