It felt like it took an eternity to unpack that box. Every time I thought I was on the last layer of books, another appeared underneath it. I was starting to worry that it was some kind of bottomless, magic box or something when I finally hit cardboard. I let out a huge sigh of relief as I did.

"Everything okay over there?" Mason asked.

"Why do you have so many books?" I groaned, piling the last few into my arms.

"To read. I thought that would be obvious," he laughed.

I rolled my eyes as I shoved the last of them onto the shelf. I grunted faintly, stretching my arms a bit as I did. I wasn't sure how long we'd been at this exactly, but it had to be long enough for anyone watching to be convinced that we were just unpacking, right?

Mason seemed to have the same idea. I watched as he pulled a chair next to the window and opened up another box.

"Want to help me with the curtains?" he asked, pulling out a thick, heavy-looking drape. "I suck at putting these up, so it might go faster if you do it."

"Sure."

As I walked over, he held out his hand, offering it for balance to help me onto the chair. I tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest as his hand held mine.

Thankfully, it didn't last long. As soon as I was safely on the chair, he let go. Probably smart considering we still couldn't be sure if anyone was watching or not.

I pulled down the rod and held out my hand for the curtain. He handed it to me without a word. I tried to calm myself by focusing all my attention on the task at hand.

As I was weaving the rod through the holes in the curtain, I was surprised to feel Mason's hand on the back of my legs. As always, his touch instantly sent a shiver of pleasure running through my entire body. I tried to ignore the residual tingling as I refocused my attention back on the curtain.

It was fine. Him touching me like this was fine. It didn't mean anything. After all, it was just the back of my leg. He was probably just making sure I kept my balance or whatever.

However, as his hand slowly slid up the back of my thigh, that idea became less and less convincing. I could feel my legs getting weaker beneath me at his touch. A slight problem considering where I was standing right now.

"Hey, I'm on a chair," I reminded him.

"Sorry," he murmured. His voice sounded like he was a million miles away right now. "Got distracted by the view. I don't think I've ever seen you in jeans before."

I snickered a bit, standing on my tiptoes to put the curtain rod back. "They're just jeans. You're wearing a pair too, you know."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure my ass doesn't fill them out half as nicely as yours does."

His hand slid up and cupped my ass, squeezing it gently. I yipped involuntarily, shocked by his sudden boldness.

"H-hey! I don't have the curtains up yet!" I reminded him, quickly lifting it to block my reddening face from outside.

"Don't worry. The way you're holding the curtain right now should block anyone from seeing," he explained, a mischievous smile on his face. "But if you're really that concerned, then I suggest finishing up with those curtains so we can close them already."

"Well, maybe I'd be done with them already if somebody wasn't throwing me off balance by trying to play grab-ass right now," I shot back.

He laughed and stepped away from me, holding his hands in the air like he was at gunpoint. "Fine, fine. Fair enough. I'll be good. I promise."

I gave him a small huff of annoyance before turning back to the window.

Despite the little show I put on, I wasn't actually upset with him. I mean, why would I be?

Knowing that he couldn't keep his hands off of me? That even in these bland, modest clothes all he could think about was what I was hiding underneath them? It sent shivers down my spine in the best possible way. I couldn't wait to get the damn curtains up so I could finally show him exactly what I had in store for him.

Thankfully, a curtain rod isn't exactly rocket science. In a matter of seconds, I had it in place. Lucky, considering that seemed to be all the patience that Mason had anyway.

No sooner were the curtains up than he was already walking over to close them.

He didn't run at all, there was no urgency or desperation in his walk or the way in which he closed the curtains. But the hunger in his eyes as he did so told me exactly how much he was holding back.

Slowly, progressively, the room dimmed more and more around us. The soft hissing of the curtains brought goosebumps to my skin as they slid along the rod.

We were alone now. Really, truly alone. No Phil, no nosy neighbors, even the sun couldn't reach us here. It was just the two of us now.

As the last rays of light were snuffed out by the heavy drapes, he turned his eyes back to me. Intense, focused, full of lust and desire. They left me frozen in place. A helpless prey to his hungry stare. And I just couldn't wait to be devoured.

He crossed the room at a calm, even pace. But to me, it felt agonizingly slow. Little by little he closed the distance between us until he was standing right in front of my chair, smiling up at me.

"Are you coming down?" he asked teasingly.

"Ah, right," I said, suddenly remembering that I did, in fact, have the ability to move. "Mind helping me down?"

"Not at all."

I rested my hand against the back of the chair and held out my other for him to grab, kneeling slightly. However, it seems he had a different idea of what "getting me down" meant.

By which I mean literally sweeping me off my feet.

In an instant, he scooped me up into his arms, pressing me against his chest. I was surprised how effortlessly he was able to do so. He didn't even pause as he immediately turned and headed for the stairs.

I don't know what it was, maybe the shock of what he'd just done or the understanding of what was about to happen next, but my mind was numb. I didn't have any thoughts anymore. Only feelings. Sensations.

My head was fuzzy, my entire body was warm and buzzing. It was like I was drunk without having a single drop of alcohol. And in that mentally inebriated state, all I could focus on was him.

His strong arms pressing against me through the fabric of my clothes, the faint scent of boxes and sweat on his skin, the way his heartbeat seemed to race in time with mine. Every second, every movement. Absolutely and wholly intoxicating.

Without a word from either of us, he carried me up the stairs and down the hall to a room I already knew well. A room I had seen from my window many times before. His room.

All at once, I found myself in this place that was both so familiar and so foreign to me. The curtains were already drawn across his window, the bed stood out neat and tidy like a picture in a home catalog. It was clear that he had been preparing for this long before I arrived. Again, he had thought of everything.

Somehow, that knowledge was overwhelming to me. My body didn't seem to know whether it was excited or panicking. And for just a split second, a hint of doubt, once again, crept its way into my mind.

"Mason, I-"

He didn't give me the chance to finish that sentence.

In a second, his lips were on mine. Desperate, greedy, hungry. He kissed me in a way that stole the very breath from my lungs and blew away my every doubt like a raindrop in a hurricane. A kiss that made my heart pound and my head spin until I couldn't see the world around me anymore. A kiss that left me aching for more.

My lips parted, inviting him. And he was more than happy to accept. A small moan of contentment hummed in my throat as his tongue began to play with mine. I reached my hands up, fingers tangling in his hair, desperate to draw him closer to me.

The next thing I knew, I was falling. However, the shock was short-lived as the soft springiness of his bed quickly caught me. I glanced up to see him smiling down at me, he leaned forward, kneeling on the bed as he gently pressed his lip against mine again.

It was sweet. The way that he was trying to be so gentle with me. That he treated me so delicately. As if I were a frightened doe quivering in the corner. That he wanted to ease me into everything and chase away all my fears before he dared to do anything too drastic.

It was sweet. But pointless.

From the very first second that his lips touched mine, I was already his to have. There were no fears now, no doubts, no worries. Only lust. Passion. Desire.

I wanted him, I needed him, I craved him, and I was finally going to have him. Now.

Without a word, I leaned up and shoved him onto the bed. I wasn't very forceful, but I think the unexpectedness of it caught him off guard more than anything. He flopped onto his back with a shocked expression. And that surprise only doubled as I swung my leg over his waist to straddle him.

He stared up at me, dazed. I couldn't help the smile that crept its way to my lips. Good. It was my turn to make him squirm now.

I sat back, grinding against the very noticeable bulge that was growing in his pants. He grunted, arching his back slightly. His hands reached out and grabbed my hips, squeezing them lightly. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"You're going to kill me at this rate," he grumbled.

I had to repress a giggle as I feigned ignorance. "What do you mean? Am I too heavy? Should I get off?"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of getting you off," he murmured, sliding his hands under my shirt.

My heart raced with anticipation as he did. Sure enough, I saw the shocked and confused expression appear on his face as his hands made contact with an unexpected fabric. He lifted my shirt a bit, eyes widening as intricate, black lace appeared to greet him.

In an instant, any calm, cool demeanor he had vanished from existence. He sat up, eyes wild with excitement. He yanked my shirt up above my breasts marveling at what lay underneath.

"God, you really must have killed me. Because I swear I'm in heaven right now."

He spoke in a low voice, almost as if he were talking to himself. His hands caressed the lace-covered curves of my body slowly, purposefully. His fingers trailed down to the waist of my jeans. I saw the small flicker of excitement behind them as he noticed the lace continued past it.

"Can I... see the rest?" he asked dreamily, eyes finally meeting mine.

If I lived a thousand years, I still don't think I would find the words to properly describe how I was feeling at that moment. I felt sexy, powerful. I felt a control over myself and my body that I hadn't felt in ages. If ever at all.

Knowing that he wanted me so much, how desperate he was for my body, sent a thrill through me that made my head spin. More than anything in this world, I wanted to scream "yes" and beg him to take me right then and there.

But where would be the fun in that?

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't," I sighed, feigning hesitation.

I saw panic and fear light up his eyes. For some reason, that knowledge was just as exciting to me as the actual teasing. I put a soft smile on my face to reassure him. I reached down and slid my hand just under the bottom of his shirt.

"After all, it wouldn't be fair if I were the only one undressed," I hinted.

It took a second, but it finally clicked for him exactly what I was doing. A playful and relieved smile filled his face. His body relaxed a bit as he reached over and grabbed my bunched-up shirt from where it was resting on my breasts. He pulled it over my head gently, keeping his eyes on my body as he did so.

"You're right, you're right. Fair is fair," he said playfully. "So, in the interest of fairness, how about you help me out of mine too?"

God, was foreplay always this sexy and fun? I couldn't even remember. Nor did I really care. I was having fun now. And eager to keep that fun going too.

A thrill ran through my body as I slid my hands under his shirt. I savored every second and every sensation. The firmness of his abs, the smoothness of his skin, the way his eyes clouded over as I lifted that shirt higher and higher. By the time I had it over his head, that playfulness from before had disappeared and only lust was left in its place.

His restraint was weakening by the second, I could already see that, and all I wanted to do was wear it down to nothing. To tempt him and tease him until there was nothing left but raw, animalistic desire. To watch him lose himself completely.

I reached down and unbuttoned my jeans. With a sultry smile, I unzipped them and pulled down the edge, showing him the lace hiding underneath. Excitement ran through me as I felt that bulge in his pants throb and shift beneath me.

His hands twitched by his sides as if eager to get ahold of what I had waiting there for him. But to my surprise, he resisted. Instead, he shook his head slightly, as if he were arguing with himself. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Last chance, Maggie," he warned me, his voice dead serious. "I won't hold back after this, so think very carefully about what I'm about to ask you because I'm only going to ask once:

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

And there it was. Right there before me. A way out. An escape.

Nothing serious had happened yet, and nobody else but us knew what had happened here today. I could leave. I could walk out right now and never even look in his direction again. I could do it right now and I knew he would let me go without a word. I could leave if I wanted to.

But I didn't want to.

Instead, I reached down and grabbed that throbbing bulge that was pressing between my legs. He gave a small grunt of pleasure, his whole body tensing slightly. I leaned in close, my lips hovering just inches from his.

"I want you," I murmured softly.

Once again, his eyes flashed with lust and hunger. He let out a small, dry laugh, shaking his head slightly.

"Oh, well. I tried."

His hand tangled in my hair and pulled me in, roughly pressing his lips against mine. He grabbed my waist and rolled me over onto the bed, pinning me with his body.

There was no going back now. I had made my decision. And not just now. Every step of the way.

From the moment we first met, from the very first time I saw him and felt those exhilarating sparks he somehow always kindled inside of me, I knew that I wanted to be with him this way. To taste him and touch him and be consumed by him entirely. I knew it all right from the very beginning.

I was done trying to fight it. I was done trying to resist it. I was done with lying to myself. I was done pretending.

There was no more going back now. I was done.