I've been lying awake watching him sleep for what feels like hours. Watching the slow movement of his chest and listening to the soft sound of his breathing, which is deep and very male.   He looks less dangerous when he's asleep I think, vulnerable almost, like how a sleeping lion looks a little like a housecat when you see them snoozing in the sun.  Every so often his body twitches so that his beautifully inked chest rises up and down in broken staggered movements.  I wonder if he's dreaming.  Though I think maybe not because mainly his face is a picture of calm; his beautiful mouth in an almost pout and his eyelids perfectly still. 

Jake sleeping is quite a sight if I'm honest.   I could quite easily lie here on my stomach forever and watch him.  Which, since sleep seems to have abandoned me entirely, might actually be possible.  But my head is packed full of thoughts and I know the longer I lie here the more jumbled and loud they'll become.  No, I can't lie here anymore.

Getting out of bed quietly, I lift the tartan throw from the bottom of the bed and wrap it around myself, before padding softly across the room and out into the hallway shutting the door behind me as quietly as possible.   I tiptoe along the quirky lopsided hallway to the staircase at the end that leads up to the attic, cursing at the creaky floorboards under my breath.

Upstairs is in total darkness when I get there, but the light from the skylight shines across my beloved white Steinway and partially illuminates my way across the room.   My piano looks stunning under the moon.  It's still my most prized possession and I remember vividly the day I came downstairs to find it wrapped with a bottle green bow in the front room on my 18th birthday.   I'd burst into tears.  I couldn't believe mum and dad had bought it for me.  It was secondhand but I knew it had still cost them a fortune.  Finally, when I managed to stop crying I'd say down at the stool and tried my best to convince them they hadn't wasted their money.  Mum stood sobbing behind me as I played. Thankfully it was the fact that I was "all grown up" and not because she'd had the biggest case of buyers remorse she'd ever known.

I move across the bare whitewashed floor to switch on the lamp in the corner first and then cautiously approach my piano, skimming my fingers softly across the keys.  I adore the soft tinkling sound it makes, as though I'm waking it up.   I need to start playing everyday again.  It always calms me and I've needed calmed since the day he walked into my life.

I slide onto the stool and press my bare foot against the pedal and raise my hands.  The blanket slips down my arms but I barely feel it.  It's a warm balmy night and my body is still feeling the after effects of Jake.  My run in with Ben had some positives; namely the way Jake had been with me and my body.  He was rough and commanding at first as though claiming ownership of me and then he was slow and tender as though to make up for it.  He worshipped my body slowly with his mouth and his hands and those familiar intoxicating words in my ear.

Moonlight Sonata is always my go to.   It was the first piece I ever truly mastered - I say mastered but I still sound amateurish to my own ears, and after twenty years I still haven't managed to perfect the whole thing; just the Op. 27 No.2 and the first, second and part of the third movements.  My fingers pick out the notes from memory and a moment later I'm lost in the familiar melancholic sound which I'd always found very dark and very sad.  I'm not sure it fits my mood right now really.  I picked it only as it was easy to play and lose myself in.  Though I never really lose myself completely when I play - I guess I never quite mastered that either. The man sleeping downstairs is the flickering image going through my head in time to the music.   He's possessed me in every conceivable way. I feel him in my bones and under my skin and I don't know what to do about it. I don't know if I want to do anything about it. Im terrified and excited and nervous about everything. Maybe I just need to get under his skin too; get him to trust me with his secrets and trust me not to walk away.

Why does he think I'll leave him if he told me everything?  Why would he say that? What secrets could undo what I feel for him?  Does he even know how I feel about him? Do I even really know how I feel about him?    Perhaps I should have been less concerned about my sexual gratification earlier and insisted we talk instead. You can't have both.  He knew I'd chose his body over his secrets because that's what he wanted me to choose. He knows I'm powerless to resist him and that I always have been.   He plays my desire for him better than I play my Steinway. 

As my thoughts drift and meander so does the piece, and I skip over some sections and repeat others, but mainly it flows in an almost hypnotic continuum, and soon my mind quiets and settles - although he never leaves it entirely. He never really leaves it entirely anymore. Finally my fingers slow and come to a natural stop, and I breathe deeply and sit back on the stool.  

When I sense movement behind me I whip round. He's standing at the top of the stairs completely naked, hands down by his sides, his narrow gaze soft and intense and filled with awe.

"I had no fucking idea you could do that." He says quietly.

I suppress a shy smile and shrug slightly. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know you have very talented hands - but then I knew that already..." he says. He begins to walk towards me, the moonlight illuminating the full naked sight of him as he moves across the attic room. I almost gasp out loud at the sight as it gets closer.  He's breathtaking. Fierce, muscular and powerful. As always there's unceasing danger to his beauty. 

"I'm sorry.  Did it wake you up? I closed all the doors,"  I ask as my eyes roam his body, my heart beat quickening. I turn back round on the stool to face the piano and close my eyes, waiting for his touch.

"No.  You not being beside me woke me up." When he stops behind me I lean back against him and he slides his hands over my shoulders and down my arms to my breasts, rolling my hardening nipples between his fingers. A second later I feel his mouth at my neck. 

"What was that?  It sounded familiar," He asks, his voice a whisper close to my ear.

"Beethoven," I say as he continues to kiss and lick my neck, grazing his tongue delicately below my ear.

"So you play Beethoven on your piano, naked.  Are you fucking kidding me?" He chuckles.

"I never joke about Beethoven," I smile. "Although there was this one joke I heard once which made me laugh...." The words dry up on my tongue as he slides his hand lower and cups me between my legs. His touch is possessive but gentle. It causes a soft whispering moan to escape my mouth.

"It was beautiful.   You're fucking incredible," he says, his voice so sincere.   "I wish I had a single ounce of the talent you have."   He doesn't sound bitter or sad about it, just awed.  His hardness begins to grow against my back and immediately I want him again.  I think I could make love to him all day every day and stop only when my body stopped working.  I'm truly insatiable where he's concerned.

I twist myself around on the stool again and gaze up into his eyes, which in the moonlight have taken on an ethereal beauty; deep and dark and full of desire.  My gaze dips down to his erection and my mouth waters.  When I glance back up to his face he lets out a breath and lifts the side of his mouth ever so slightly.

"I want to be in your mouth, and in those hands."   he says. I feel the saliva collect and pool under my tongue at the very thought.  I want that too. 

I shift forward on my stool and bring my hands up to place my palms flat on his thighs then slide one hand around to grab his perfectly smooth, muscular bum.  His skin is warm and hard under my fingers and as I scrape my nails along it his erection jerks toward me.   The skin is silky smooth and lightly tanned, the end plump and pink.  It's so edible looking.  With my left hand I grip the base then lean forward to flick my tongue tentatively over the moist tip. Jake groans loud and digs his fingers into my hair.   I shift closer and lick him again, greedier this time, tilting my head so I can suck lengthwise.  God he tastes incredible; like salt and heat and man.   When I move my mouth and tongue lower, to taste at the tender parts that hang below his whole body tenses tightly.

"Fuck Alex," he growls, gripping my hair harder as I take them into my mouth, sucking and kissing each one tenderly. So there is literally no part of him that I don't want to taste on my tongue then.  There's a surprise.  When I look up I see him bite down hard on his lip and I smile around him.  I love seeing him lose control.  I love seeing that I can affect him in anyway never mind in this way. He's so powerful, like a force of nature almost, and for me to affect a force of nature feels like a miracle really.

As I squeeze his hardness tight in my fist,  and move my mouth back to draw his length inside I marvel at how perfect it is.  When I begin to lick the length again in long strokes with my tongue I feel his grip shift and he gathers the length of my hair in one hand and wraps it around, piling it above my head.  Then he starts to moves his hips so that he's fucking my mouth slowly.  "Fuck your mouth is so good," He groans quietly.   I close my eyes lost in the moment and then I feel his fingers on my face.  "Look at me," He says gently.  When I open my eyes to look up at him he grazes the pad of his thumb under my eye across the small light brown mole I have there. "I always want to see your eyes when you suck my cock Alex.  I want you looking at me. "

My thighs vibrate hotly and my stomach clenches tightly, his words stroking me deep between my legs.  As I'm told, I open my eyes wide and lock them on his as I draw him deep into my mouth.  As I feel him hit the back of my throat he makes a desperate noise curses again and his hips jerk forward pushing him in further.  I have to try very hard not to choke.  "Fucking hell I love seeing my cock in your mouth," he says pulling his hips back before moving them forward further.  I hear a tinkle of the keys as he braces himself on the Steinway for stability.  I normally hate anyone touching my piano but Jake touching it in the midst of giving him oral sex is something else.  If he asked me I'd probably let him fuck me on it to be honest. 

I glance up to see him looking at me through heavy lidded eyes. As he bends forward the tight muscles across his stomach clench and his thighs which he has spread wide and which he moves sensually lull me hypnotically.  I suck harder, hungrily and he squeezes his eyes shut tight looking almost as though he's in pain. "So good baby, please don't stop... yes like that..." I pull him deeper into my mouth and cup between his legs, massaging gently as the keys behind me continue to make a sweet disjointed tune.  As I moan in pleasure he groans loud, a deep growling groan from the back of his throat. "I'm going to come Alex... Fuck.."

The taste of him is of warm and delicious as it explodes on my tongue.    I suck, grip and move my mouth in a continuous series of motions and drink in the sight of him along with of the taste of his orgasm.   I love watching him come.  I love making him come.   His climax tastes thick and hot and feels comforting as it glides down my throat from his body into mine by the movement of his hips.   When his body calms and his movements slow he loosens his grip on my hair and opens his eyes to look down at me.  He looks sleepy and dazed and as I slowly draw him out of my mouth he licks his lips and shakes his head.   Keeping my eyes on him I lean forward and place a soft kiss on his stomach just below his belly button and tattoo.  Then I sit up on the stool and flick my hair back over my shoulder and lick him from my lips.  I just gave Jake oral sex at my Steinway.  How was that for Prude?  Fuck you Ben.

"You do that just as well as you play Beethoven you know." he says, smiling sexily.

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow flirtatiously.  "You should hear me play Bach then." I grin.  He chuckles and pulls me up off the stool and into his body.

He draws a hand down my face and presses his other to the small of my back as he stares deep into my eyes. "What the fuck did I do to deserve this, with you?" He asks after a moment, an odd look on his face.  I try and think of a lighthearted response but before I get a chance to speak he lowers his head to kiss me deeply.  I wrap my arms around him at kiss him back and wonder if he can taste himself in my mouth.  "Now come on, we should be asleep.  Tomorrow's a big day for you." He takes my hand and pulls me toward the stairs. 

"Is it?"  I trail after him, puzzled.

He stops and turns, clearly pretending to look shocked.  "Yeah.   Tomorrow's the day you introduce your hot sexual deviant to all your friends remember? It's fucking massive.  You nervous? Scared they'll hate me?" He grins, eyes wide. 

Oh. I'd forgotten about that.  Am I nervous? Totally.  Scared? Absolutely bloody terrified.

***

Friday at work is hectic.   I manage to completely forget to eat lunch because I have to arrange for an emergency admission for Mr. Caithness who arrived for his 11:30am appointment showing signs of myocardial infarction that he thought was bad indigestion.   Since he lives alone, his only living family miles away in the Scottish highlands, all I could think about was that if he hadn't had his appointment this morning then he would have died at home, alone.  What an awful thought - to have no one by your side when you die.  Suddenly I understand why my mother has her heart set on a massive brood of Marlowe grandchildren.

The frenzied day I've had does have an upside though - I've had no time to worry and panic and overthink dinner and about introducing Jake to my real life.  I honestly have no idea what they'll think of him or what he'll think of them and I want them to like each other.    I'm not exactly sure how much it matters now whether they each other though.  Now that I'm falling I can't un-fall.   

Robyn has always had strong opinions about things concerning me and my life; whether it's Ben, Nick, or just what I'm wearing.  She's also never been afraid to voice those opinions; she will tell me what she thinks of Jake without a fraction of diplomacy or hesitation.   It's one of the reasons I love her – and the main reason I'm terrified.

Tonight will without a doubt burst a hole right through my surreal sexual adventure bubble.  Tonight Jake and I become a real thing, an 'us' outside of my bed or his shower thing.  Oh god now I feel sick.  About time. 

As soon as I get home, which is almost 6:30pm by the time I'd caught up with things at the surgery, I text Rob to tell her that I'm running a bit late.  She deplores latecomers to her dinner parties so I normally try and make sure I'm at least 20 minutes early – which is not going to happen tonight.  Hopefully she'll be too distracted by meeting my hot sexually deviant nightclub owner to be that annoyed.   I'm in and out of the shower in 5 minutes and decide since I'm wearing it up, I can get away with a careless blow-dry of my hair to save time.   I pin it up in a messy up-do leaving a few strands loose around my face, before moisturising my body quickly.   My make-up I keep light, except for a long dramatic curve of liquid liner on my eyelids, and a bold red shade on my lips.  I finish my little black cocktail dress off with a chunky turquoise necklace and earrings and observe the overall look in the mirror.   Then I take off the necklace.  Coco was right.  Always take off the last thing you put on. I squirt some perfume on the way out the bedroom door and carry my black heels downstairs and into the kitchen.  The clock tells me its only 7:05pm meaning we may not be too late after all.

I contemplate having a glass of wine to steady my nerves but then remember I wanted to take a bottle across to Ed and Betty as a thank you for minding Fred this week.  So I decide to be neighbourly instead of borderline alcoholic.  I grab a bottle of my best French red from the rack and shove my slippers on by the door and head down the drive. 

Ed appears a few moments after I ring the bell, smiling in that soft fatherly way as soon as he opens the door.  Ed is in his late 60's and reminds me a lot of my Dad.  Grey haired and soft mannered, he's one of those distinctly non-threatening older men who I can't imagine being any age other than what he is now.   Like he was just born a fully-grown, mature, older man.  

"Alex, hello.  Don't you look nice?" He says.

"Thanks Ed, dinner at a friends tonight.  I just wanted to say thank you to you and Betty for the other day, feeding Fred.  It was a great help."  I hand him the wine, which he takes reluctantly. 

"Oh no need Alex, you know we're always available.  It's no problem at all.  And he's mainly well behaved." He smiles.

"Oh I know but I don't know what I would have done otherwise."  I know what I wouldn't have done - had amazing shower sex with Jake for a start.  For that I should probably have brought them my entre wine rack.   Ed nods and glances at the bottle.   

"Oh and I've moved the key from the plant pot so if you guys wouldn't mind holding onto the spare for me?  I think I'm just getting a little more paranoid in my old age." I smile.  Paranoid about arrogant ex fiancés coming into my house at bath time is what I actually mean. 

"Oh sure, of course, no problem."  He nods, taking the key from me.   He opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again and offers me an awkward smile. "You know I thought I saw Ben coming out the other night?  Are you two patching things up then?" he smiles.  Ed isn't nosy or a gossip; I think he just cares.  As far as I know, most people round here liked Ben and as far as I also know they also have no idea that he was a lying cheating snake which is why they still offer me a sad smile when they say his name.  

Just as I'm about to speak I hear a car turn up the road and then stop and turn into my drive.  I turn to see Jake's Audi moving carefully up the gravel.  I glance at my watch and smile – he's early.

"No, we're not.  He had forgotten something that's all."  I say.  Ed nods and then looks over the hedge – okay maybe Ed is a little bit nosy.  "And that's my date, I have to go." I smile. 

"Oh I see," he says sounding interested, craning his neck across the hedge to try and get a better look.

"Thanks again Ed, I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem Alex, anytime.  We're happy to do it.  Thanks for the wine." Ed says holding up the bottle. 

Jake isn't waiting at the door when I get there and I like that.  I like that he feels he can just come inside.  Oh hilarious - come, inside.    As I'm taking off my slippers by the door I hear him coming down the stairs and I turn to look up.  My mouth drops open at the sight of him.  Oh my god.

How is it that he still takes my breath away every time I set eyes on him?   He looks gorgeous.  Smart, handsome and ridiculously sexy.   He's wearing an perfectly tailored dark blue 3-piece suit, white shirt, and black tie.  The tie is done but loose, the top button of his shirt undone to show me a glimpse of his throat which is covered with perfect looking stubble. His hair is slickly styled and parted to the side on top but mussed slightly at his temples giving a more casual look. He oozes elegance but with a touch of edginess. He always does style so well I think, always knowing exactly what to wear that will show his body off at it's best.  I don't even know if he's style conscious at all, or if he just throws things on and they just happen to look this good on him.   As he catches my eye on the descent I see his slightly panicked expression evaporate, to be replaced by a slow smile filled with desire.

"There you are,"  He says, stopping a few feet away - too far away - and looking me up and then down. He runs his hand across his mouth as he drinks me in.  "You look beautiful," He says and steps into me, lowering his mouth to mine. We moan quietly together and I fold myself into his arms welcoming his taste into my mouth.  It's a taste I could never properly describe to anyone who asked.  He tastes like maleness, like Jake. He tastes of warmth, and danger and deep sexual fulfillment.  A taste I'll never forget as long as I live.   When I pull back slowly I feel drugged and dazed.

"And you look very handsome," I whisper.  Handsome doesn't quite cut it.  He looks bone meltingly gorgeous.  Is that even a thing?   It feels like a thing.  When he smiles back at me it's almost shy.  Shy also looks good on him.

"Wasn't sure what to wear," He says looking down at himself. "Never been to a dinner party to be introduced to my girlfriends friends before.  Figured you can't go far wrong in a suit, can you?" He shrugs.

Girlfriends friends? Could he be anymore adorable?

"You can't go far wrong in anything," I tell him and he flashes his canine smile at me.  I stand up on my tiptoes to kiss him again, a light peck this time.

"I just need to grab my bag and put on my shoes, give me a sec." I squeeze his arm and go to the kitchen to get my heels. 

"Where were you?" he asks, following behind me.  After I slip into my black heels I turn to face him.

"Next door, to thank my neighbours for cat-sitting the other day." I say.   While you shower fucked me and made me fall for you.  This I don't say. 

"Right," he nods.  I grab my bag and decide to forgo my jacket. It's a warm night and we are going from the car to Robyn's and then car to home.  To bed hopefully.

"Ok – lets go." I say with a smile as I grab his hand.   He returns my smile with a dazzlingly gorgeous one of his own which makes me want to rip his clothes off and have him take me here in the kitchen.  But since I know Robyn will be crazy angry if we're really late for her dinner I decide to bank that thought for later.

Outside when we get to his car, he stares down at our hands.  "You going to hold my hand the whole night?" He asks, amused.  

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Might be if I have to use a fork," he grins.  

I giggle and let him go and he unlocks the car.   Once we're both inside he asks if I know Rob's postcode and looks fairly impressed when I tell him I do.  He punches it into his fancy built in Satnav and turns on the radio, before reversing skillfully out of my driveway.

I try and concentrate on anything but the rumbling thunder in my stomach which seems to have exacerbated since we got into the car.  I've honestly never felt this amount of nerves in my life.  Not ever.  Not even during my finals.  The music in his car is far mellower than last time which relaxes me slightly, but the butterflies in my stomach are loud and obnoxious, clambering for attention.  This really is ridiculous.   What's the worst that could happen? They don't like each other? So what? Jake's still him and I'm still me? But then, if Rob sees us together and thinks it doesn't work then what? It's too late to un-fall. Is that what I'm scared of?

I like watching him drive.  It's another thing his beautiful hands do very well.   His eyes are focused and sharp and he moves the gear stick in a smooth graceful way, checking his mirrors with tiny side-glances that are so miniscule that you almost don't see it.   I do though, because I notice everything he does.  Because everything he does seems like everything to me.   He seems preoccupied I think, maybe a little edgy.  Maybe he's nervous too.  Maybe because I've dragged him along to a couples night and he's only known me 3 weeks.  No, I didn't drags him. He didn't hesitate when I asked him  - wanted to come.   Something else must be going on.  In a normal relationship, without secrets, I could just ask him what was wrong and he would tell me.  Why is it that I can't ask him if something is wrong?  Is that in my own head?  Or has he made it that way? 

"How was your day?" I ask instead.  Instantly I see his body tense and his jaw clench.  It happens so quickly though that I'm not sure it happened at all.  

"Fine," He says in a tone which tells me that the subject is almost certainly closed.  He starts to bite his lip and shifts slightly in his seat.

"Okay." I shift round in my seat and stare straight ahead feeling like I've been told off.  From the side of my eye I see him turn his head to look at me.

"Sorry.  Work stuff got a bit mental." His tone is softer now.  "Things got a bit heated. Difference of opinions."  He smiles.  A smile which doesn't reach his eyes.

I try for a light tone. "Aren't you the boss?  Isn't your opinion the only one that matters?"

"Yeah you'd think..." He says but he doesn't sound like he agrees with the notion.  "Just a lot of stuff going on that's all."  

'Stuff'.  Do I press him even though its pretty clear he doesn't want to talk to me about it?  Because he's not a sharer and because I'm not safe hands.  I wonder if Jake considers anyone to be safe hands; his friend Kevin perhaps.   He reaches over and brushes the back of his hand down my face before cupping my chin gently between his fingers. 

"It's really not that interesting baby, honestly," He says.

Those words again: not that interesting.  Why doesn't he understand the fact that he interests me?  That everything about him interests me.  Like the way his bottom lip sticks out fractionally more than the top, like the way he growls low in his throat when he's turned on, like the way that tiny scar on his eyebrow looks like its designer, like what his other "stuff" is.   All of it interests me.   We're only about 10 minutes from Rob's though and I don't want to cause any awkwardness by pressing him for information when he "hates sharing shit".   What happened to us talking?   Wasn't that option on the table last night?  Has it expired?   

Instead of saying anything else I just nod and turn my head to look the window, which causes him to drop his hand from my face. I decide to change the subject from him back to me.  Where I know he's far more comfortable.

"A patient had a heart attack in my office today," I say.

"Shit, really?  Did you have to give CPR?" he asks sounding astonished.  I turn to face him to find his eyes wide and fascinated.  It really makes me want to tell him I had to perform open-heart surgery on the floor just so to impress him.

"No.  It didn't get that far.  I just diagnosed and called an ambulance.  He thought it was nothing though so if he hadn't been in my office it could have been worse I suppose. "

"So you saved his life," He nods, sounding no less impressed by the fact that I picked up a phone rather than massaged a man's heart back to life. 

"Yes.  You could say that."  I smile and he turns his head to smile back at me.   I relax a little. Adorable Jake is back.  Mystery man who has "Stuff" going on is gone.

"You'll stay with me tonight?" I ask, feeling desperate suddenly.

"Was that a question or a demand?" he smirks. 

"I'd like to think I didn't need to demand."

"But I like it when you're demanding.  In control."

My brows furrow.  "And when am I ever in control with you?"  He's been Mr control from day one.  He gives orders and people follow them, including me.

He thinks about it for a few moments. "You're always in control Alex." he says.  Since his eyes are focused entirely on the road I cant tell how serious he is.  I stare at him for the longest time, waiting for him to laugh or tell me he's only joking, or something along similar lines but he doesn't. 

"Well I guess that means you'll be staying the night with me then." I say when it's clear he isn't going to speak.

"Yes doctor, I will most definitely stay the night with you."  He smiles, shifting in the seat, stretching out his legs to spread his thighs a little wider.  As I stare down at the space between his thighs some sex demon takes hold of me and I lean over to place my hand on his upper thigh just past his knee. He feels warm and strong and I squeeze the muscle hard between my fingers.  What it says to him sexually I have no idea but it satisfies something inside me.  When I slide my hand between his legs to graze the front of his trousers he groans and his eyes almost close over.  He begins to get harder instantly, filling out and growing beneath the rich soft fabric of his suit.  Heat blooms across my entire body.  You in the car... you against that window in your office... you upstairs at a party...

A few moments later Jake takes a sharp left and we pull into Robyn's tree-lined street, which is in a newish development in the centre of Epsom.  I pull my hand back from it's spot between his legs so I can point out her and Dan's massive detached house at the end of the cul de sac lined with other massive detached houses.  There are already a few cars outside her double garage confirming we're most definitely the last to arrive – a fact which only makes me more nervous.   I really wish I'd let him fuck me on the stairs at home to calm me down now.  So apparently I say fuck in my head now like its part of my vocabulary.  Interesting. 

Jake pulls in and parks behind a black range rover I don't recognise and says he'll move it if they need out.

"Guess I better do something about this then," He says, glancing down between his thighs. He runs his hand across the bulge straining the front of his trousers and gives me an accusatory look. In response I give him my innocent face and bite my lip.   I'm not sorry about it.   I like that I make him hard by a skim of my hand on the outside of his clothes.  He reaches into his trousers and does some wrangling and shakes his head.

"Now do you see how in control you are?" He asks when he's finished.

"Well maybe we could go upstairs when we get inside and I could help you out with it?" The sex demon says. I smile as Jake's eyes widen and he considers my proposal.

Finally he shakes his head. "No, because what I want to do will take fucking hours. So let's go get this over with so we can get back to yours and get started." He sighs before opening the car door.

As the heat washes over me it fights against the returning chill of nerves. I take a deep breath and pop open the passenger door and step out into the slightly cool evening air. Yes. He's right. 

Let's get this over with.