I'm awoken by soft lips sauntering across my skin. For a moment, I think it's Gage. I think my husband is waking me from a strange dream when I take a deep breath and am engulfed by Fallon's clean scent.

"I got you breakfast." Fallon kisses my cheek as I open my eyes to see he is fully dressed in a button-down shirt and casual pants.

"What time is it?" I sit up, rubbing my eyes.

"Eleven."

Fallon sits beside me, presenting a brown bag and large cup of coffee. "Did you remember my order?" I smile.

"Not a hard thing to recall. Shiksa likes bacon. Add some cheese and pretend it's a sandwich." Fallon kisses me again, and I smile because if I could, I would kiss him all day. "What?" he smiles back.

"Nothing," I say, unwrapping my sandwich. "How long have you been up?"

"Seven, I slept in."

"Since when do you call seven sleeping in?"

"Since, I'm a big boy now." Fallon beams. "Anyway, I didn't want to wake you, so I worked out in my office. By the time I got back, you were still sleeping."

"Like a normal peeeeerson," I say, taking a big bite.

"I'm pretty average," Fallon counters, untruthfully.

There's nothing average about Fallon Lynch. His body, his mind, those eyes. They're not features you find just standing in the middle of a busy street. Next to Gage, he's the closest to perfection.

"You're not, but continue." I take another carnivorous bite.

"God, you're hot," Fallon sarcastically declares as he rises from the bed.

I'm not trying to be hot. Even if I wasn't married, Fallon and I have seen each other at our worst and still like fucking. Kinda doesn't matter after that.

Fallon reaches down to gather several bags from the floor at the edge of the bed. I recognize the Pink label and a few high-end brands, but there's some I have never seen. Tilting my head, I wonder if Fallon planned for me to spend the night. "Bold of you to assume we would end up here, friend." I sip my coffee.

"I had my assistant pick some of these up this morning." He smiles.

"It's Sunday?" I giggle.

"She's a personal assistant. She assists my person no matter what day it is. Within reason of course," he says, placing them beside me. "Which is why, some of these, I got myself." Fallon reaches into a bag and presents a nipple revealing half-cup bra that looks about my size.

"Sorry, but I only take cash and oral is extra," I reply, placing my food to the side to take a peek. It's cute, it's my size, but... "I can't accept this."

"And why's that?" He watches as I place it back in the bag.

"They look expensive and probably aren't even my size."

"Pants and dresses, seven-eight. Shoes and sneakers, eleven-nine," Fallon passively declares. "You have some big fucking feet and in case you forgot, I worked at my grandfather's tailor shop for years. Hips this wide, breasts this big." He feels me up.

"Shut the fuck up," I giggle, pushing away his hands. "I like my feet. They're pretty." I over-articulate, to emphasize my point.

"Every part of you is pretty." Fallon smiles, reaching into a bag for a silky red dress. "But I think you would look stunning in this."

I'm not surprised to see Fallon Lynch is still obsessive. I know he won't be satisfied until I accept his gifts, but there aren't many cocktail events in Athens. "Where would I even wear that?" I ask, a grin spreading across Fallon's face.

"There's this restaurant off the coast of Spain with a view you won't believe. I'm thinking dinner, dancing, ending the night peeling off this dress with my teeth," he says, making my body clench.

"Heh..." I chuckle away my unease. "As fun as that sounds, there's one problem."

"And what's that?" Fallon grants me an idle expression.

"Spain is that way." I point to my left. "You live here." I point to my lap. "And I live, up. Do you see the problem?"

"Yes, your navigation is atrocious." Fallon falls into my lap. "I don't mind living here, though," he says, granting me that boyish grin.

"Fallon, I'm serious," I laugh.

"So am I." His grin extends. "Run away with me, Kid."

"I can't."

"You can. The question is, do you want to." Fallon reaches up to play in my curls.

It's not about what I want. We both have jobs. I have a lot of saved up vacation time, but Fallon's position is still fresh. We can't just say fuck the world and escape into our little bubble.

"It's not that I don't want to. Fallon, we can't. What about your job?"

"I can work anywhere in the world." He shrugs.

"Okay, what would I tell people?"

"Why do you have to?" Fallon arches his brow.

"Fine, what would I tell my husband? Hey, I know we're going through a thing, but my friend with benefits invited me to vacation with him in Spain?"

"It doesn't have to be Spain." Fallon pulls me onto his lap.

Fallon Lynch's eyes are the only place in the world where autumn meets spring. Gazing deep into mine, he paints a pretty picture. We spend days exploring, nights fucking each other to sleep. "Me, you, wearing nothing on a private beach." He says, massaging my ass from over the fabric of his borrowed night shirt.

"Why am I the only one naked in this scenario?" I smirk.

"I am, too. You're just on top," Fallon says, thrusting up, so I can feel his building erection.

"How do you do that so fast?" I smile.

"Are you saying other people can't?" He muses.

"I'm not answering that, and I'm not getting on a plane with you." I giggle as Fallon wraps his arms around me and kisses my neck.

I close my eyes and lean into his touch. I know I have to go home soon. I know when I walk out that door we will probably have to pretend none of this happened, but right now I want this man inside me. I want his hands on my body, his skillful mouth at my breast. I want to arch my back and moan his name, which is a little strange because Fallon is as French vanilla as they come. Fallon is as French vanilla as they come. He's smooth with a little more flavor than the classic, but he's still plain. He knows exactly what to say, where to touch, but my pallet has matured in our years apart.

I like it rough. I like to be grabbed by the neck. I like to feel the delicious sting of something hitting my skin. I want to be pounded until I cry, until I can't breathe, and that's not Fallon.

Fallon lifts himself up and lays me on my back. "How will I ever convince you?" he muses, pulling off my top and tossing it to the side.

"You can't." I smile as Fallon knocks the bags to the floor.

His brow arches as he stands at the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. "I can't?" he questions, an excited glimmer in his eyes as he kicks off his shoes.

"No." I smile as he slips off his belt.

"Uh-huh..." Fallon seems unconvinced while he grabs a golden wrapper from the drawer. "You trust me, right?" Fallon tilts his head, folding his belt in half in his hands.

"Of course, I trust you. This isn't about trust, it's—"

I'm silenced by a violent snap of the belt. My body stands at attention as Fallon passively smiles and requests to use it to bind my hands. I don't even think about it. My arms jolt out, enlivened by his smirk.

Fallon kisses me and presses the condom into my hands. "Let's make a deal." He looks at the faceless clock hanging on the wall between the bathroom and bedroom door. "Give me fifteen minutes to convince you, then we'll fuck," Fallon says, looping the belt around my wrist. "Whether this is the last time or the beginning of a very fun vacation is totally up to you." He tightens the strap.

"And I have to be tied up for this?" I ask as he pulls me up by the lead.

"Yes," he replies, bringing his mouth to mine.

Fallon slips the belt under the headboard. My arms are pulled over my head as he asks me to attempt freeing myself. I try and find I can't. When I'm asked to roll over, I do so with a smile at my lips, my back arched as I rest on my knees and elbows.

Resting my chin on my fist, I hear Fallon chuckle slightly as he rubs my bare backside. He seems nervous, but I don't see why. We didn't indulge in a lot when I returned to New York, but Fallon allowed for some light bondage. He even participated in wax play once or twice. I guess it's been a while for him.

"Okay, turn on your back again," he directs, and I do.

Fallon stands at the edge of the bed, his hungry eyes taking me in. "We could just talk after." I spread my legs, smiling as Fallon sits beside me and rubs my breasts. "The answer will be the same but we'll be less distracted," I say as he stares at the clock.

"Eleven twenty."

"Fallon," I sigh. "Seriously, I'm not going to change my mind. I love spending time with you but I—"

Fallon kisses me. His tongue flicks against mine as he lifts up and removes his pants. Our kiss deepens as he glides my body to the center of the bed. "What happened to talking?" I sigh as Fallon kisses my neck. His hand caressing my breast while the other rests on my belly.

"N'est-ce pas votre langue préférée, Rue?" Is this not your preferred language, Rue? Fallon asks in perfect French, the roll of his tongue making my entire body buzz as his hand glides down to my sex.

"Semble être ainsi," Seems to be so, he remarks, licking down to my breasts.

My eyes flutter as Fallon's fingers caress my walls. His warm mouth sensually kissing and sucking my nipples while he tells me we would stay in the city until Thursday. "I have a work event Tuesday night and dinner plans with Elena. I wouldn't ask you to go, of course. I'll set up a spa session for you while I'm gone. You can relax, be pampered by the best in the city and when I get home..." He kisses down my body.

I bite my lip as we gaze into each other's eyes. It's tempting, but not enough. Looking at the wall, I see we have thirteen and a half minutes until I feel him inside of me. "Fallon," I sigh, closing my eyes as he tenderly kisses my wet surface. "Can't we just fuck?"

"Not yet," he hums, throwing my legs over his shoulders.

The belt tugs at my wrists as Fallon devours me. My nails dig into the back of my hands as I whimper and struggle for breath. "This is the part where you trust me." He pulls away, licking his lips.

Catching my breath, I look at the clock as Fallon climbs off the bed and digs into the bags on the floor. Ten minutes and counting until we're done with this stupid game. Closing my eyes, I listen to Fallon rustle around.

"I wasn't exactly looking for lingerie when I found that bra," Fallon confesses, rolling my head in his direction to see him pulling a violet personal massager from its box. "It's your favorite color." He smiles, turning it on as he returns to the bed.

That thing buzzes like a hornets nest, getting louder and louder as Fallon brings it to its highest setting. My legs instinctively snap closed. I'm sensitive, and we both fucking know it. "Just trust me," he coaxes, spreading my legs and dragging the massager down my inner thigh to my clit.

In seconds, I am rabid. My body jerks and shivers as Fallon squeezes my breast and kisses my mouth, his green eyes trained on mine while I struggle for breath. "Fallon," I whimper, unsure if I can take this for another moment.

"Oh," he says with a sympathetic expression. "Look at that pleading face. You want me to fuck you, don't you, baby?"

"Yes," I moan, my hips lifting against my will as Fallon presses the massager against my clit.

"Fallon please!" I cry.

"Do you want me to stop?" he taunts, squeezing his fingers into me as I cum.

"No, please. Please—Please!"

Fallon grins as I cum hard. "Oh..." he innocently declares, his fingers pushing deep as he leans forward to bring us face to face.

"Oh my god!" I cry out.

"You want me to fuck you," he says again, pulling away the glistening wand and slipping his fingers into my mouth. Fallon's eyes glow as I nod my head. "I could fuck you right now." A smile curls at his lips. "I could push your knees back, and you could watch me fuck you. All you have to do is agree. Two weeks, that's all I want."

"Fallon, I can't." I smile despite my frustration.

"Hmm." He grunts, returning the wand.

Moaning and screaming, I put all pride to the side and beg to have Fallon inside me. Looking at the clock, I'm sure that it must be broken when I see we still have eight minutes left. Fallon tosses the wand to the side and latches on to my cunt as if he's trying to suck me dry.

"Fuck! Fallon, please, please, please!" I beg, pulling at my binds.

Fallon narrows his eyes and looks over his shoulder. "Okay," he grants his permission, climbing up my body and requesting I open my mouth. Fallon fucks my face as he slips the condom from my hands. He sighs as I juggle his balls on my tongue while he slips it on.

"Fuck," he moans, resting in my mouth for a moment before he dismounts.

My head spins as Fallon fucks me like his life depends on it, his hands and mouth all over me until he flips me onto my front to take me from behind. "Oh god, Fallon!" I call as he reaches up and squeezes both breasts.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath before kissing my back. "You like this baby?" he asks, his breathy voice bringing me so close.

"Yes," I sigh.

"You about to cum, baby?"

"Fuck, yes!" I moan as Fallon grabs my hips while I push back against him.

"How bad do you want to cum, Rue?" His voice is sexy and gruff.

"So bad," I cry, Fallon, pulling away and turning me onto my back.

"Then I guess we're going to have to come to some sort of arrangement, aren't we, Kitten?" Fallon smirks as he hovers over me. "Preferably in the next thirty seconds."