The last time I kissed Emily Carlton in her bed was eighteen months ago. We were different people then. I’m reminded how different as her eyes flash up at me. “What the hell?” Emily demands. She’s naked and beautiful and, apparently, pissed. I roll off her and onto my back. I can still taste her, and the way she fell apart under my hands and mouth left me nowhere near satisfied, but I force out the words I need to say. “Tonight was about you. Giving you what I wanted to give you then.” “You’re overthinking this.” She shifts over me, and I bite back the groan at the feel...