Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

S lade stayed the night. After making love, neither of us had the energy to move. I slept tangled in his arms, too exhausted to protest. When morning light filtered through the curtains, I woke to his hands already on me, gentle but insistent. He made love to me again before sliding out of bed to get dressed. I watched him, sprawled out on my stomach, my cheek pressed into the pillow, savoring the lazy contentment in my limbs.

Slade caught me staring, a smirk playing on his lips as he pulled on his red basketball shorts. "Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t be going anywhere."

I raised an eyebrow, my voice teasing. "Like what? I’m just lying here."

"You look beautiful," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand glided over the exposed skin of my back, sending a ripple of chills down my spine. "Your skin is perfect."

His touch was tender, almost reverent, but I knew we needed to get moving. I smiled lazily into the pillow. "You better get going then. The Abbott house is legendary."

He raised a skeptical brow. "Says who?"

I snorted. The stories floated around the company about how beautiful the house by the ocean was. "Says all the executives who get to attend the annual Abbott retreat."

Slade chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that why you wanted to be a manager?"

I reached out, playfully swatting his arm. "Idiot. You know that’s not true."

He leaned down, trailing his lips along the curve of my spine, his breath hot against my skin. When he gently bit the top of my ass, I let out a soft hum, feeling the familiar spark of desire stir inside me.

"Get out of here, Abbott," I murmured, fighting back a grin. "Before you get yourself into trouble."

He nipped me again, this time with a playful growl. "I like trouble—especially the kind that involves you."

"Go," I urged, pushing at his shoulder. "I need to finish packing."

He stood and stretched, his toned muscles rippling as he moved. "I’ve got to pick up the car I rented. Should be back in about an hour. That enough time for you to do everything?"

I gave him a wicked grin. "Doesn’t take long to pack bikinis and lingerie."

Slade groaned, running a hand over his face. "You’re going to be the death of me."

"Go before I change my mind," I said huskily.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Change your mind to what?"

"Potato sacks and flannel pajamas."

He grinned, leaning down to plant a kiss on my cheek. "Doesn’t matter. Anything you wear is sexy."

As soon as I heard the front door close behind him, I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in my muscles from the night before. Slade had a knack for putting me through my paces, and while it wasn’t always easy keeping up with his appetite for certain... positions, I wasn’t exactly complaining.

I took a quick shower, letting the hot water soothe my body, then slipped back into the black silk robe I had left discarded by the bed. It only took me about thirty minutes to pack, throw on a pair of pink shorts and a pale blue tank top, and pull my hair up into a ponytail. Slade texted me just as I was lugging my suitcase to the door. When I didn’t respond immediately, he called.

“You’re impatient,” I answered, rolling my eyes but smiling as I spoke.

"I wanted to make sure you didn’t change your mind," he said, his voice warm but teasing.

"That’s silly. I want to go," I said, pausing at the door. "And since you dragged me off that hike, I really have no choice."

"Face it, you’re better off coming to Montauk where we can sun and swim. We’ll make love with the waves crashing around us and the breeze off the Atlantic," he purred, clearly trying to entice me.

I laughed softly. "You’re quite the poet, aren’t you?"

"Call me selfish, but I just want you to myself."

“You don’t need to convince me you’re boyfriend material; I already know.”

“Know enough to call me your boyfriend?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “Don’t push it. I’ll be down in a minute.”

I hung up, grabbed my purse, and sighed. If only things were as easy as Slade made them sound. I wasn’t ready to make a commitment as much as he wanted one. I didn’t want to be pushed into the decision no matter how well he treated me. I spent the past few years living my life independently and I wasn’t sure I wanted to give that up yet.

When I stepped outside, Slade was waiting beside a sleek silver Jaguar convertible parked in front of the building. I stopped short, raising an eyebrow. "A Jag?"

He shrugged, flashing that effortless grin of his. "I don’t drive it much, but it’s so nice out."

"I’ve never been in a convertible before," I admitted, glancing at the car with a touch of awe.

“Then this will be a treat for you,” he said, his eyes flicking to my ponytail. “Glad you have your hair up already.”

Slade took my small suitcase and stowed it in the trunk, then opened the passenger door for me with a flourish. Once we were settled inside, the engine roared to life, and we pulled out into traffic.

"Music?" he asked, his hand hovering over the stereo.

"If you like."

He glanced at me, his gaze searching. "I’m asking if you want it. You can say no."

I smiled at his consideration. "Then no. Let’s wait until we get out of the city."

The streets were packed with Friday crowds—people rushing to work, shopping, or simply trying to get through their day. I loved the energy, even if others complained about the noise and grime. This was my city, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

At a stoplight, I caught a group of men staring at me from the sidewalk. One of them leered, licking his lips in a way that made my skin crawl. Slade didn’t notice, but I was glad when the light changed, and we sped away.

As we left the city behind, I felt a mix of excitement and unease settle in my chest. Montauk sounded perfect, but could I really let myself fall for someone like Slade? Or was I just enjoying the ride?

“So, what is there to do at your place?” I asked, trying to keep things light as the wind whipped through my hair.

Slade glanced over at me, his lips curving into a playful grin. “What would you like to do?”

I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes for a moment. “I could spend all week on the beach. If I remember correctly, there’s a pool too?”

He nodded. “Yeah, a big one with a hot tub. We’ve got a sauna in the basement and an outdoor kitchen too.”

I peeked at him through half-closed eyes. “Will you cook for me?”

Slade chuckled, his gaze flicking from the road to me and back again. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “I’m bound to you now. You’re feeding my addiction.”

The words sent a shiver through me, both thrilling and unsettling. I bit my lip, the reality of our situation starting to weigh on me. “Slade, what happens when I go back to work? You’ll have to go back too.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his hand tightening around the steering wheel. “I hope this isn’t just a fling for you.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and full of unspoken expectations. I let out a slow breath, unsure how to respond. “I don’t take sex lightly,” I finally said, my voice quieter than before. “I’ve only slept with only a few men, and there’s a reason for that. I could’ve had more if I wanted, but... I don’t give my body to just anyone.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” he replied, his eyes briefly searching my face before looking back at the road. “But I hope I’m your last.”

His words, so earnest, made my chest tighten. I turned my head, staring out the window. “I can’t make promises, Slade.”

There was a beat of silence, then I saw him wince, the hurt flickering across his face like a shadow. Guilt twisted in my stomach. My heart clenched as I wrestled with what I was doing—what we were doing. Was I using him? And if this ended badly, who would be the one to blame?

Probably me.

He cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence. “I just want you to know my intentions are real.”

“I know,” I whispered, hating how uncertain I felt. “But I’m not sure I can give you a full commitment yet.”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded, accepting my words with more grace than I deserved. The truth was, I didn’t know what I was doing. And the thought that I could end up hurting him, that this could fall apart, scared me more than I wanted to admit.

The traffic on the highway out to Long Island was relentless, but as we ventured further, it thinned out, leaving the open road ahead. The salty tang of the ocean hung in the air, growing stronger the closer we got to Montauk. Finally, Slade turned onto a short driveway lined with neat Belgian block, flanked by a black iron fence that welcomed us into another world. The house, larger than life, rose before us—a hulking structure of cedar and glass, just as grand as the stories I’d heard.

Slade parked the Jag, its engine purring to a stop as he raised the top. I couldn’t help but marvel at the scene before me. Bluestone stairs led up to double wooden doors framed with frosted glass. Hydrangea bushes bloomed in bursts of pink, purple, and blue, their fragrance swirling around me as the ocean breeze stirred them.

“Let’s grab our bags. I’ll give you a tour after,” Slade said, sliding out of the car.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, still caught in awe.

Slade smiled, pulling our suitcases from the trunk. I followed him up the stairs to an wrap around porch, my eyes drinking in the details of the house. He set the bags down to fish out his keys, but before he could open the door, he pulled me toward him, pressing a hard kiss to my lips. I melted into him, letting my hand wander down to the bulge in his pants. I gave him a playful squeeze, feeling his sharp intake of breath.

He groaned against my lips, his eyes darkening. “If you keep that up, we won’t make it to the beach. I’ll take you right here, on the foyer floor.”

“Promises, promises,” I teased, biting back a grin.

With a smirk, he slipped the key into the lock, pushing the door open to reveal an expansive foyer lined with black granite floors. The high ceilings made the space feel even grander, light bouncing off pale walls. A large mirror hung over a glass table that held a vibrant vase, next to which sat a small ceramic bowl where Slade deposited his keys.

As I adjusted my windblown ponytail in the mirror, Slade’s hands came up behind me, cupping my breasts. His fingers teased my nipples, and I caught his gaze in the reflection. His face was a mix of hunger and amusement as he closed his eyes, lost in the sensation.

“Now who’s creating problems?” I chided, though my voice was a little breathless. “Didn’t you get enough last night and this morning?”

He opened his eyes, meeting mine in the mirror. “I can never get enough of you. I might have to quit work and chain you to the bed.”

I turned to face him, laughing softly. “But I have to work.”

He kissed me deeply, the intensity of his desire undeniable. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I welcomed it, tasting the remnants of mint from the gum he’d been chewing earlier. I dragged my nails down his back, pulling a low moan from him.

“Fuck the tour,” he growled. “I need you. Now.”

In seconds, we were half-naked, our clothes strewn across the cold granite. My shorts and panties tangled around my knees, but it didn’t matter—Slade easily slipped inside me. The heat between us was frantic, urgent. His movements were rough, primal, and I clung to him as he pushed me over the edge. We both came hard, collapsing together in a breathless heap.

“You’re a major problem for me, Morgan Kincaid,” Slade panted, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

I ran my fingers through his hair, still catching my breath. “Why is that?”

“Because I want you all the time,” he said, brushing a kiss against my temple.

I smiled, my head still spinning from the intensity of what had just happened. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t work for you anymore. I’d never get anything done. Why is it a problem now? We worked together just fine before.”

He chuckled, his lips hovering over mine. “Because I hadn’t been inside your sweet pussy then. Now that I’ve had you—tasted you, kissed you—you’re impossible to ignore. Why has no man claimed you before this?”

“Men have tried,” I replied, a smirk tugging at my lips. “It just didn’t work out. Besides, I don’t want to be claimed. I want an equal partnership.”

“With me, you’d be nothing less,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to my damp forehead.

I stared up at the crystal chandelier above us, its prisms catching the light. “You make it hard to say no.”

“Then don’t,” he said softly, pulling out of me, his cock still slick with the remnants of our passion. Without bothering to fix his shorts, he helped me up and led me down the hallway to a bathroom decked out in shades of beige and mocha. He retrieved two washcloths from a closet, wetting them under the faucet. “Here,” he said, handing one to me.

“I need to pee,” I said, glancing at the toilet.

He laughed, leaning against the counter. “Go ahead.”

I hesitated, biting my lip. “I need some privacy.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “You’re afraid to let me see you pee?”

“We’re not married,” I said with a teasing grin. “It’s too...familiar.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be in the kitchen.” He threw his washcloth in the hamper, tucked himself back into his pants, and winked as he left. “Down the hall and make a right.”

Once he was gone, I finished cleaning up and fixed my hair, my footsteps echoing on the wooden floors as I made my way to the kitchen. It was a chef’s dream—commercial-grade stainless steel appliances, pristine white counters, and sleek gray cabinets. A wall of glass framed the view of the deep blue pool and the ocean just beyond.

Slade stood by the counter, sipping from a bottle of Perrier. When he saw me, a wide smile spread across his face. “You’re glowing.”

I smirked. “It must be the aftereffects of sex.”

“Whatever it is, it suits you.” He held up the bottle. “Want something to drink?”

“Do you have more Perrier? I like it with a twist of lime.”

“Coming right up.” He retrieved an etched crystal tumbler from the cabinet and set to work cutting up a lime. Moments later, he slid the drink toward me with a flourish. “As you requested, madam.”

I took a sip, the cool liquid refreshing against my lips. “This place is gorgeous.”

Slade leaned against the counter, watching me closely. “Are we sharing a bedroom?”

"Why would you ask that?" I shot him a wary glance, unsure where this conversation was heading.

Slade's voice softened, yet there was a persistent edge. "I just want to make sure. You can have your own room if you like. This place has six bedrooms and eight baths, so...plenty of space."

I sighed, frustration creeping in. "Slade, I like you. Stop pushing the issue."

He leaned forward, his eyes intent. "I want you to love me."

I stiffened. "I'm not that kind of girl. I don’t fall so quickly. I’m sorry."

A flicker of determination crossed his face as he stepped closer. "You can’t help how you feel. I just want to know that I have a chance."

My heart pounded, caught between the pressure and the truth. "You do," I admitted, meeting his gaze, "more than a chance."

His tension eased, and he smiled, his hand reaching for mine. "Good. Would you like a tour now?"

"Yes, please."

Slade came around the counter, his hand warm as he took mine and helped me up. He led me out of the kitchen and up a grand curved wooden staircase, our footsteps echoing softly. The hallway stretched long and elegant, a colorful runner lining the polished hardwood floors. Every door we passed, he opened with a casual flick of the wrist—bedrooms, bathrooms, each one as beautifully decorated as the last.

At the end of the hall, he stopped in front of a door, turning to me with a knowing smile. "This is my bedroom. I hope you'll like it."

He turned the brass handle and pushed the door open, revealing a room twice the size of the others. A large four- poster bed, dark wood with a padded headboard, dominated the space, flanked by matching chunky nightstands with ceramic lamps. The furniture was tasteful, but the size of the room made everything else seem small.

I stepped inside, taking it all in. Slade watched me carefully as he led me deeper into the room. A dresser, armoire, and a sleek TV sat against the far wall, but my attention was drawn to the double-curved chaise near the windows. A plush cream-colored rug stretched out from beneath the bed, inviting. I kicked off my sandals, letting my toes sink into its softness.

"Nice," I murmured, rubbing my feet against the luxurious fabric. "Very soft."

Slade's breath was suddenly at my ear, his voice low. "I'd like to fuck you on it one of these nights."

I froze, caught off guard, then turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Why? When you have a perfectly comfortable bed?"

He grinned, unrepentant. "Because it’s more fun to do it in different places."

His words hung in the air as I glanced around, feeling the weight of his desire in the spacious room. The back wall was a stunning combination of cedar and glass, leading out to a large terrace. Below, the patio and pool glistened, the water sparkling in the afternoon sun. I pointed outside, eager for a distraction.

"I want to swim."

He blinked, momentarily surprised. "I thought you'd want to go to the beach."

"The pool’s fine," I replied, already moving toward the windows. "I’m not in the mood for sand."

His smile was easy, but I sensed his disappointment. "But you will go one of these days, right?"

"Sure. What's the point of being here otherwise?"

"Of course." He squeezed my hand briefly before stepping away. "Let me grab the bags."

As he disappeared downstairs, I took the moment to explore. I peeked into the oversized walk-in closet, barely filled. An island in the center matched the granite in the bathroom. I moved on, admiring the luxurious glass shower with its three-head setup. The vanity was pristine, with two glass sinks set in white granite and a freestanding tub large enough for a small gathering.

"Ready to change?" Slade’s voice broke my thoughts as he leaned in from the doorway.

"This place is magnificent," I said, still in awe.

"Wait until you see the outside at night."

I glanced at him, curious. "Why?"

"I have lights that illuminate the plants, and the pool changes colors," he explained, a boyish excitement lighting up his face.

"That sounds nice. I do like swimming at night."

"There’s a full moon tonight. Would you like to walk on the beach after?"

I hesitated, unsure of how I’d feel later. "Let’s see."

His gaze softened as he studied me. "We’ll probably have it to ourselves. Most people come just for the weekend."

"It’s Friday, though."

"And it’ll take them hours to get here with traffic."

I shrugged, feeling the tension rise between us. "I guess."

Slade’s eyes darkened, his tone gentle but firm. "Morgan, you can say no."

My temper flared, the pressure building too quickly. "I know that!" I snapped, tearing at my suitcase zipper with more force than necessary.

Slade said nothing, giving me space as he opened his own bag and pulled out a pair of yellow swim trunks. I avoided his gaze, rummaging for the silver bikini I’d packed. As I ducked into the bathroom to change, a wave of modesty hit me—a ridiculous feeling given how much he’d already seen.

When I emerged, Slade stood, his eyes roaming over me with appreciation. "I’m sorry," he murmured. "I didn’t mean to upset you."

I busied myself with folding clothes, avoiding his gaze. "I know. It’s fine."

He stepped closer, his voice soft. "You look sexy in that suit."

"Thank you," I muttered, though the compliment didn’t sit right. I couldn’t shake the unease building inside me, the uncertainty gnawing at my gut. Had I made a mistake coming here?

As I wrestled with my thoughts, Slade led me out to the downstairs patio. The sun had warmed the light pavers beneath my feet, and I watched as he pulled out two white mesh loungers from a wicker deck box. A sleek outdoor kitchen caught my eye, complete with a grill, fridge, and wine glasses hanging from a rack.

Slade stretched out on one of the loungers, glancing at me. "Still want to swim?"

I hesitated, standing at the edge of the pool.

"Nice place," I said, taking in the sprawling outdoor patio.

"Very," Slade replied with a hint of pride. "We even have an outdoor bathroom with a shower around the corner."

I smirked, adjusting my sunglasses. "I guess the executives weren’t exaggerating about this being a lovely retreat."

"Fucking freeloaders," Slade mumbled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" I shot him a sharp look.

"Nothing," he said quickly, but his jaw clenched.

"Did you just call them freeloaders?" I pressed, not letting it go.

Slade sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "They eat like pigs, drink like fish, and kiss up to my father like he’s some kind of god. It’s obnoxious. I don’t plan on attending this year’s retreat."

I raised an eyebrow. "So, you’re saying I dodged a bullet?"

He gave me a rueful smile. "The more I think about it, the more I believe you made the right move, even though I hate it. I hate that I won’t see you every day."

I reached up and cupped his scruffy face, letting my thumb graze his jawline before pulling back. "Play your cards right, and you might see me every day."

Slade's eyes softened, and he took my hand, kissing my knuckles gently. "I really want this to work between us," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

He pulled out a tube of sunscreen, holding it up. "Your skin’s fair. You need to protect it."

I rolled my eyes but handed him the tube, letting him rub it onto my shoulders and back. His hands moved slowly, deliberately, until he reached my inner thighs. He lingered there, his fingers brushing higher until he pressed teasingly against me.

"You’re ready for more?" His voice was low, and a wicked grin tugged at his lips.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I think I always will be when it comes to you. I love you... and I’m sorry if that makes you feel weird, but it’s the truth."

Slade's playful expression faltered, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. "It only makes me feel weird because I can’t say it back," he admitted, his gaze dropping.

A pang of regret twisted in my chest. I wished I hadn’t said anything. "I hope one day you will," I whispered, but the moment felt heavy, his silence more telling than anything else.

Slade put on his sunglasses and leaned back on his lounger, retreating into himself. I felt his absence the second his touch left me. I watched him for a moment, his chest rising and falling steadily as he closed his eyes, signaling that the conversation was over.

After a long, tense silence, my stomach growled audibly. "What do you have to eat around here?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Slade removed his sunglasses and glanced over at me, his chest gleaming with suntan oil. "Plenty. The fridge is full. Help yourself."

His curt response stung, but I figured my own words had done more damage. Without pushing the issue further, I got up from the lounger and stepped inside the cool interior of the house, the heavy slider shutting behind me with a quiet thud.

I made my way to the fridge and, sure enough, it was fully stocked. Deciding to extend an olive branch, I gathered what I could to put together a small platter: chunks of cheddar, Swiss, and gruyere, slices of aged salami, and a bowl of grapes and strawberries. I even found some crackers and a bottle of white wine.

Balancing the tray, I slid the door open and carried it outside, praying I wouldn’t drop anything. "Baby, are you hungry?" I asked, hoping the playful endearment might soften the tension between us.

"Not particularly," he muttered, not even looking at me.

Determined to change his mood, I set the tray at the foot of my lounger and knelt. "Are you sure? I brought wine." I began fumbling with the corkscrew, the silence between us growing more oppressive by the second.

Slade glanced over, finally showing some interest. "I’ll do it," he said, sitting up and reaching for the bottle.

I handed it to him with a small smile. "So, you are hungry."

"I guess," he grumbled.

I hesitated before speaking again. "Slade, please don’t be angry."

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowly twisted the corkscrew into the bottle, his eyes locking with mine as he turned it with deliberate slowness. The playful glint returned, and I could see he was trying to ease the tension, pretending to struggle with the cork.

The way he worked the corkscrew, the twist of his wrist, the teasing smile—it sent a dull ache between my legs, and I bit my lip, looking away before my thoughts wandered too far.

When I heard the pop of the cork, I muttered under my breath, "Fucking tease."

"What was that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, amused.

"Nothing," I replied, suppressing a smirk.

Slade chuckled, and just like that, the weight in my chest lightened. Maybe we weren’t perfect, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.

Slade smiled lazily as he swam back toward me, his hands gliding over the water's surface before gripping the pool's edge next to mine. He caged me between his strong arms, his body hovering close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him even through the cool water.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve been meaning to tell you how irresistible you look in that bikini.”

I smirked, my fingers tracing along his arm. “You've already told me... several times.”

His eyes darkened with mischief. “Well, I’m not done telling you.”

I laughed, feeling the familiar thrum of desire between my legs. “Oh? And what else do you want to do, Slade?”

He tilted his head, a slow smile curving his lips. “You think you know, don’t you?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” I teased, my lips quirking as I leaned closer. “Let me guess. It probably concerns your?—”

“My mouth,” he cut in, his gaze locked on mine. “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

A shiver ran through me at the heat in his voice. “What... what do you want to do with it?”

He grinned, his eyes dropping to my chest before trailing back up to my face. “I want to kiss every single inch of your body. And I mean every inch.”

The promise in his words made me tremble. Slade's brow furrowed in concern. “Are you cold?” he asked softly, reaching up to brush a wet strand of hair from my cheek.

I shook my head, biting my lip to suppress a smile. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then why are you shivering?” His voice was laced with amusement as he trailed a finger down my spine.

I sucked in a breath, shuddering at his touch. “I think it’s more of a shudder... in response to your suggestion.”

His lips twitched. “Is that a yes?”

I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Maybe. But you rarely ever take your time, Slade. You’re usually... how do I put this?” I leaned in, whispering against his ear, “inside me before we even know what’s happening.”

Slade’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against mine. “I wish I could deny that,” he said, his voice husky, “but you do something to me, something no one else ever has. I usually like taking my time with a woman, making sure her needs come first—but with you…” He shook his head, his lips brushing my temple. “With you, it’s like I lose control.”

“Well, I guess I should be flattered,” I teased, pressing my body against his as I felt his muscles tense beneath my touch.

“You should be,” he murmured, his lips grazing my shoulder. “So... what do you say we head upstairs? Take a long, hot shower?”

I arched a brow. “Hot as in heat, or hot as in... hot?”

His grin widened. “Why not both?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Or... we could get in the hot tub. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Slade's eyes sparked with interest. “Now that sounds tempting. But how about this—we still have wine left. Why don’t we take a walk on the beach, finish off the bottle, and when we come back…” He leaned in, his lips ghosting over my ear, “...we’ll get in the hot tub.”

I melted against him, unable to resist the seductive pull of his words. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

With one last lingering kiss on my forehead, he pushed off the wall and swam toward the stairs. I watched him, heat stirring in my belly, already imagining what the rest of the night had in store.