Page 37 of Penn

Fucking great because that orgasm was intense and I don’t know that it’s ever felt that good.

I nod, a grim thought permeating through the haze of bliss. “We, um… didn’t use protection.”

Mila blinks at me, no comprehension in her expression.

“No condoms,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“Neither did I,” she muses, and she doesn’t sound regretful or scared about it. “I was just too caught up in everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mila’s hand comes out to rest on my chest. “Why are you sorry? That was on both of us. But if it helps, I’m on birth control. I’ve always practiced safe sex.”

I force my grimace to remain on the inside as I don’t like to think of her having sex with other men. “Same. Always safe sex.”

“Then we’re good,” she says simply. “Next time, we have nothing to worry about.”

Next time?

Yes, next time.

And that time is right now. I push up off Mila, hauling her up with me and sweep her into my arms. Next time will be on a bed.

CHAPTER 13

Mila

Istir, disorientedat first, eyelids fluttering open to unfamiliar surroundings. Soft morning light slips under the bottom of the heavy roman blinds, just enough to bring me out of my deep slumber.

My heart jolts as confusion washes over me, but then awareness trickles in.

I’m not in my bed.

I’m in Penn’s.

I let my eyes roam the room. The décor is muted, dominated by deep grays and hints of charcoal, softened by crisp white linens and plush bedding. Framed black-and-white photography lines the walls, stark and minimalist, echoing his personality. A leather chair sits quietly in the corner, and a sleek, modern dresser spans the opposite wall, orderly except for a few scattered items—a watch, keys, and his wallet. It’s a room that reveals very little about the man who occupies it yet feels intimate simply because he chose to share it with me.

Carefully, so as not to disturb the man sleeping beside me, I turn my head slightly. Penn lies on his stomach, sheets barely covering his hips, one arm flung across the mattress toward me, the other folded under the pillow beneath his head. His breathing is deep and even, relaxed in a way that he deserves. His face is softened by sleep and I have to resist the urge to stroke my fingers over a cheek.

Yesterday’s memories rush back in a vivid wave, making my stomach twist and flutter in equal measure. The fierce argument,words sharp enough to draw blood, followed by that kiss—explosive, volatile, completely reckless.

And everything after.

Warmth rises to my cheeks as I recall the wild, frantic moment on the kitchen floor. Penn’s hands on my skin, rough but reverent, his body moving with mine, a perfect storm of anger and lust, regret and desire.

But what came after shook me to my core.

I’d expected the anger, or perhaps a retreat behind that icy wall he usually erects around himself. Instead, he was worried about us not using protection, apologizing for it as if it were only his responsibility. But with that out of the way, he stunned me by lifting me from the floor, carrying me silently into his bedroom and making love to me again. Slow, tender, deliberate.

I shiver, remembering the contrast. Penn had been quiet, almost solemn, as he touched me, as if each caress was a new discovery he’d been waiting to make. He took his time, watching my every reaction, gently coaxing pleasure out of me until I’d felt vulnerable, raw and undeniably seen.

And he never said a word.

Later, we’d drifted off into a peaceful sleep, tangled together, my cheek pressed against his chest, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear. We apparently parted sometime in the night and it looks like he’s a stomach sleeper while I prefer my side.

Now, lying here in his bed, the fragile reality presses heavily on me. I have no idea what to expect when he wakes. Will the brightness of a new day shine a light on things he’d rather not see or acknowledge? Will the walls slam back into place? Will he regret everything?

Anxiety prickles under my skin, urging me out of bed. Maybe if I can slip away quietly, I’ll have time to gather my thoughts. Ican shower, make coffee, pretend to be composed and in control before facing whatever comes next.

---