She moaned when his thumb flicked across her nipple and she kissed the side of his head, his cheek, his lips.

Her gaze locked with his and in one quick motion, he stood and lifted her.

When he placed her on her bed moments later and they silently removed their clothing, her heart ached for him more than her body did. His fighters were like family to him. They were the only thing he cared about. Not being able to help one of them must be tearing him apart.

She lifted the bedsheet and he slid in next to her, moving close, his gaze locked with hers as he wrapped his arms tight around her. He kissed her gently, and the look in his eyes was one she didn’t recognize.

She kissed him again with more fervor than ever before, wanting him to know she was there for him, wanting him to take comfort in her.

He rolled them until his body hovered above hers. His forearms resting on either side of her head on the pillow. She ran her hands slowly down over his shoulders, along his strong, tattoo-covered arms and around the muscles in his back, holding his gorgeous body to hers. Clinging to it with a new desperation. He was so close, but she knew his heart was still out of reach and she struggled to find a way to convince him it would be safe with her. That he could trust her, let go of his insecurity about them together, and be with her—fully, unconditionally.

Moving away from her, his hands slid over her stomach, her ribs and over her breasts. She watched him as his gaze followed the path of his hands . . . and when it met her eyes once more, her breath caught.

This time was different.

This time he needed her more than he wanted her. The intensity of the look made her tremble and she reached for him again, drawing him closer, spreading her legs wider as he settled between them, his thick thighs pushing against hers.

He touched her face—the rough, callused, fighter hands a stark contrast to the soft, gentle caress. Then he trailed them the length of her body and gripped her hips as he thrust forward, his own hips pushing into her inner thighs as she raised her legs to wrap them around him.

He buried his head into her neck, kissing her, and shivers chased over her body. The need in his touch, in his kiss, in his gaze made her want to give him everything he couldn’t ask for. “Make love to me, Tyson,” she whispered.

His body froze for an instant and she thought maybe her words had broken the spell, but when he lifted his head to look at her, his gaze remained locked with hers. There was no more hiding his affection, his passion, or his love. She saw it all there in his expression as his body merged with hers and he entered her over and over, until she was clinging to him, as desperate for release as he was.

His body shook and her legs trembled around his waist, as they climaxed together in a wave of passion and ecstasy that only tormented thoughts and emotions could evoke.

Their labored breathing fell into a rhythm as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Is it okay if I stay here with you?” he asked, rolling off of her and drawing her into him, the pain in his voice tearing a hole through her, yet his words filling her heart.

“Of course,” she whispered as she softly kissed his lips.

And he did. Even when the sun’s first rays came through the window, he stayed.

*   *   *

Opening his eyes the next morning, Tyson experienced a moment of panic. Where the hell was he? Glancing around Parker’s bedroom, the familiar surroundings brought his heart rate back to normal and he turned to look at the woman lying next to him.

He’d never seen a woman first thing in the morning. She was still as perfect as the night before. Her blonde hair spilled across her pillow, and her exposed bare back beneath the edge of the sheet was soft and warm to the touch.

He couldn’t believe he’d stayed. What had he been thinking? He hadn’t been thinking. He’d been feeling hopeless and depressed over Dane’s issues. He weighed his options. Stay and deal with what would without a doubt be an awkward situation. Or slip away, like an asshole who’d just used her, before she woke up.

He had to go, but not that way. Touching her shoulder, he said her name.

She moaned in her sleep as she rolled onto her back. Her eyes opened slowly and she looked just as surprised to see him there. Surprised. Happy and relieved.

Shit. That just made things a whole hell of a lot worse.

“You’re still here.” She smiled and snuggled closer.

Oh God, she was killing him. He kissed her forehead before gently easing her away from him and getting up. “Yeah, I should really get going though.” He reached for his jeans on the chair next to her bed.

“I can make breakfast . . . all eighteen hundred calories of it,” she said, her voice teasing.

He forced a smile. “I need to go kill my brother and then go see if Dane needs anything.” He expected a crazy day ahead of him—one he wasn’t going to enjoy. Dealing with Connor, trying to help Dane figure out a way out of the mess he was in, reaching out to the family of the victim, which was customary among the fighting community as a show of respect . . . Nothing on that day’s list was anything he wanted to do. As he reached for his shirt, he fought the urge to climb back in bed with Parker and stay there.

“Tyson, about last night . . .” she was saying behind him and his mouth felt dry.

He had no idea how to explain last night. Not in a way she wouldn’t feel used anyway. He’d needed her. He’d needed the comfort she could offer. And he hated his own weakness. She deserved better than the way he’d treated her right from the day they’d met. “Parker, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . .”

Her cell phone rang on her bedside table and he’d never been so grateful for a ringing phone. He wasn’t sure he could handle an “about last night” conversation right now. Or ever. He had no idea what to say.

Looking frustrated by the interruption, she picked it up and glanced at the caller ID before setting it aside. “It’s just my agent.”

“Answer it.” He put on his T-shirt.

“I’ll call him back.”

He could sense she wanted to answer and he really wanted her to. “No, really go ahead.”

She did a second later.

He tried to look as though he wasn’t listening but he heard every word.

“Yes, of course I’m interested. Send them over,” she said, unconcealed excitement in her voice. “We start filming next week in LA . . .”

That’s right. She would be gone soon.

“Definitely we need to have drinks. I’ll call you the minute I land . . . Okay, I have to go, though . . .”

A second later, she hung up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem. Good news?” he asked, even though he knew he didn’t want to hear it.

“Not really. Just a few scripts he wants me to read. It’s been forever since that has happened.”

“That’s great. So you’ll be back in the spotlight in no time,” he said, hating the bitterness he detected in his own voice. He had no right to be angry with her. Yet, the idea of her moving on with her life and her career killed him, even though he’d just been ready to once again walk away from her.

Never in his life had he felt like such an asshole.

Parker stood, and crossing the room, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I have a few hours until I need to be at the hotel for the read-through, why don’t we go out to eat . . . and talk.”

Talk. As if that could solve anything. “I have to get to the gym.” He moved away from her and grabbed his shoes.

“Okay, well, I’m not sure when I’ll get there. The read-through will probably take most of the day . . .”

He pushed his feet into his running shoes without untying them. “Don’t sweat it. You’re just supposed to look good on screen anyway, right?”

Her face fell and he wished he could punch himself in the nuts. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I just meant you’re done training now anyway, right?” She’d gotten what she needed, and now she was moving on. And he needed to do the same. Even if it meant hurting her to push her away. The way he’d needed her the night before had rocked him like no punch inside the octagon ever had. The emotions spiraling through him as he’d made love to her had terrified him, but the way she’d clung to him, gave everything to him had only made him crave her even more. And he couldn’t have more . . . not if he hoped to be okay once she realized he wasn’t the right one for her and moved on.