Instant Gratification

“Uh huh. And you are too. You’re bored here. Take a vacation, come visit me.”

She looked at him as if trying to find the catch. “And then what?”

“And then I’ll come visit you. We’ll take turns.”

“That sounds so…civilized.”

“It won’t be, trust me.”

She didn’t laugh. She stood there, stunned. “It was just one night.”

“Yes. One really great night.”

She softened. “Yeah.”

“We could have a lot more.”

She just looked at him, beautiful and gorgeous.

“Tell you what.” He leaned in for another kiss. His last, he promised himself. “When you’re ready, you open this.” He pressed the envelope in her hands and took one last long look at her. “Good-bye, Serena.”

She lifted her face from the envelope she held between tight fingers. “This isn’t a Dear John letter?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Because I do the dumping.”

He smiled, his heart panging at the look of bewilderment on her face. “Would you like to dump me before I go? Would that make you feel better?”

Her eyes got suspiciously bright at that. “Shut up, Spence.”

He gently tugged on a strand of her hair, and smiled. Though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done, he turned around and walked away.

Emma woke up entangled in Stone’s warm, strong arms. Not a bad way to wake up. They’d gotten back to her place late last night and had somehow ended up in her shower.

Together.

And then in her bed.

Also together.

He was still out cold, sleeping deeply, and she leaned in, pressing her nose to his throat, inhaling deeply before pulling back to stare at his face. He had the longest lashes she’d ever seen on a man, thick and inky black. His jaw was rough with a few days growth of stubble. She remembered wondering how it would feel on her skin, and now she knew.

Amazing.

She’d always tended to sleep alone, and she honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken up with a man. She’d been missing out because there was definitely something about waking up like this, so close she could feel the slow and steady beat of his heart against hers. If she’d been the canoodling kind, she might have been tempted to snuggle in even deeper.

Even as she thought it, his arms tightened on her. In his sleep, he let out a shuddery sigh, burying his face in her hair as he relaxed.

She was leaving. He’d come visit her. She knew this. But she also knew he’d hate it in her world. She had no idea where that thought came from but suddenly it was front and center.

Her world.

She hadn’t thought about it in awhile…yet she was going back to it, tomorrow.

A knock came from the front door. With a last look at the gorgeous man in her bed, she slipped free, threw on sweats and made her way to the door. Serena stood on the top step in her black and white, sunglasses on, nose in the air as usual. “Serena.” Emma ran a hand over what was undoubtedly a very bad hair day. “You get Spencer off?”

Serena blinked, for a minute looking…guilty. “What?”

“You get him to the airport okay?”

“Oh! Right…” She flashed a smile. “Yes. He…appreciated the ride.”

“Good.” She looked and sounded like the same old Serena; gorgeous and sharp, but something was off. Emma pulled the sunglasses off Serena and looked into her eyes, and then nearly staggered a step backwards at the emotion blaring there. “What’s wrong?”

Serena shook her head and turned away.

“If this isn’t a business call, I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay, fine, if you’re going to browbeat me about it.” Serena turned back to Emma, who raised a brow. “He asked me to New York, and of course he’s crazy, but I just wanted you to know I’m…thinking about it.”

“Spence?”

“No, the postman. Yes, Spence! Keep up. Jesus.”

“Spence asked you to New York.”

“Yeah.” Serena thrust a bag into Emma’s hands. “The best croissants on this side of the Divide.”

“Is this a bribe of some kind?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“If I said I was fine with you and Spence, that I’ve always been fine with you and Spence, can I still keep the croissants?”

Serena’s face filled with relief. “So we’re good? I can still be my mean old self, and you’ll still be your stick-up-your-ass self? We’ll co-exist?”

Emma took a bite of a croissant rather than dwell on the stick-up-her-ass comment, and nearly died and went to heaven. “We’re good, Serena. For better or worse.”

As Serena drove off, a set of arms surrounded Emma from behind, pulling her back against a hard, warm chest.

She turned in the circle of Stone’s arms and faced him.

“I’m glad,” he murmured, his voice morning gruff and bringing tingles to her erotic zones, of which she had far more than she remembered.

“About?”

“That you’re okay with her and Spencer knocking boots.”

She just soaked up his warmth and breathed him in. How terrifying was it that she could do this every morning and not get tired of it?

“Our last day,” he whispered, his hands all over her. “Right?”

“Yes.” She was leaving tomorrow, come hell or high water. She waited, expecting him to say something or maybe to try to talk her out of going. Instead, he pulled her back inside, kicked the door closed and pressed her back against it, holding her hands in his, pulling them high above her head as he kissed her blind. God, his mouth. And those hot, demanding kisses—