Connor knew that being there was quite possibly the worst decision he could make. Especially since he was blowing off some client meeting back at the office to do it. But how was he supposed to focus? He'd never had sex like that. In his entire life. Usually he was the one setting up one night flings and avoiding any and all contact after. But no one had quite been like Hartley.

"I know, I know," he said, sticking close to Hartley. The fact that he wasn't being threatened or kicked out was promising. "Look, usually that's what I do. One and done, and it's over. It's easier that way, right? But I figured...why not give it another go?" Words were failing. How could words be failing him? He was a writer. A pretty damn good writer, and he could chat people up like nobody's business. But how did he express that he wanted to be reduced to a quivering mess all over again?