Page 220 of If Our Hearts Collide

It takes one smack to my ass to make me yelp.

“Don’t you know that running away just makes it all the more fun when I catch you?”

“Maybe that was my plan,” I say cheekily, getting the perfect upside down view of his ass cheeks. I can’t resist and smack my hand against one, feeling the burning pain hit my palm.

Okay, I won’t do that again.

Why is he so fit? I thought men get in worse physical shape as they age, and it seems like Collins is only improving himself with time.

“You’ll hurt your hand, Pen,” he warns, shifting me so I’m cradled to his front.

He hits the call button for the elevator with ease and it opens within seconds. Once I am safely inside and he presses the button for his floor, Collins places me on my feet and backs away.

“You’re going to be the death of me, my dirty little princess.”

I lean my butt against the cool metal handrail, as I catch my breath.

Hearing Collins call me his dirty little anything makes me feel a gush of wetness between my thighs. There’s no place for it to go other than to collect in my panties, because my shorts are so tight they need to be peeled off.

This man may not say too much, but when he does talk, it’s like an erotic arrow straight to my pussy.

Just watching Collins’s chest rise and fall, and the way his jaw tics, makes me want to jump him. Masculine energy radiates off him, and I know that whatever he plans to do with me in the bedroom will be spectacular. I won’t need to have experience or know everything there is to know. I can just let him lead the way and hope not to completely botch up trying to be sexy.

That’s assuming we ever get to the bedroom. It’s definitely not a requirement. I’m not picky either. I’ll settle for this elevator floor, his kitchen countertop, or even the wall outside his bedroom.

I clear my throat, maintaining eye contact. “Can you add elevator sex to your mental list ofmy wants?”

“You are insatiable, and we haven’t even started exploring each other. I am going to have so much fun with you. I mean, I might as well, since I’m going to hell anyway.”

I shrug. “You sound dramatic. No one is going to find out about ourarrangement. Anyway, I can’t wait until we sign the papers, so if I give you blow jobs with my teeth only, you just have to deal with it.”

Collins shakes his head at me, as if I’m somehow lying. I mean, I have a lot to learn. I just hope he has the patience to teach me. There’s only so much being an observer at a kink club can do for me, especially when I only have frequented it twice. Relying on porn as an instructional tool doesn’t seem very practical to hands-on learners.

Despite my original fear coming across in a joking manner, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a genuine concern. When my ex and I met in college, I thought he would be understanding that I was a virgin. He acted so sweet and caring until he managed to get my pants off.

My first time was not even a real experience, unless you count the two minutes he was inside me. Everything hurt like hell, and my body repelled his entry like a foreign object that didn’t belong. It didn’t matter how hard he pushed on my clit—as if it was the magic button to get me to come—I received zero pleasure. He made what could have been a memorable experience just be one I spent years vowing I’d never repeat.

I bled afterward and stayed bruised for over a week.

It’s no wonder Mark Tanner’s charm attracted me to another horrible situation soon after.

It was like I was feeding my trauma with more trauma.

Maybe in some demented sense, the identification of the trauma was the comforting component that allowed me to continue the cycle.

I was vulnerable then, but I’m done being the naive girl that falls for the flowery words that are only meant to manipulate me. No, instead, I’m tying myself to a man who blatantly tells me this is a horrible idea every chance he gets. And I believe him,because deep down inside I can’t help but wonder how this will all end.

And there will be an end, because that is the entire point of having it in writing.

Unfortunately, I can’t make myself not attracted to Collins. There’s something undeniable between us, and by the look of wonder in his eyes, I think he feels it too.

I may walk out of this with my head held high, taking with me the added knowledge that comes from being with someone more experienced. Or instead, I might have to crawl my way out of the ashes of another heartbreak and hope the next time I involve myself with another person, it won’t be as damaging.

Can I keep this arrangement strictly professional—as a way to fulfill each of our needs?

When the elevator stops, we exit and make our way down the hallway. I have yet to see anyone on this floor and wonder if anyone even lives here. Maybe he chose this location for the quietness it brings. I would feel peace right now if I wasn’t voluntarily walking into what now seems like the lion’s den.

I’ve been to his apartment numerous times and yet this visit just feels different. It’s like once I cross the threshold, I won’t need some paper promises to tie me to the one man who can knock down the walls I have strategically built around myself for protection.

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