Max was going straight to hell for lusting after another man's fiancée. He was absolutely sure of it.

As he followed Hailey out of the three story building she was about to purchase, he berated himself for allowing his attraction to this engaged woman to obliterate any self-control he'd had over his physical response to her. Just because he'd had her soft, curvy body pressed intimately against his a few minutes ago—okay, plastered against him would be a more apt description—it was no excuse for his unruly dick to leap to immediate attention.

Yeah, bad choice of words, but leap it did, without his goddamn permission and before he could fully process what was happening—beyond the instantaneous knowledge that Hailey Ellison fit against his body as if she'd been created specifically for him to fuck. In a matter of seconds, the surge of heat and awareness brought on by having her full, lush breasts crushing against his chest, and her hips aligned so perfectly to his, had his cock perking up and responding to all that physical stimulation.

God, he was such an asshole. It wasn't enough that he'd gotten a boner, but in that brief moment he'd imagined what it would be like to take the embrace one or two steps further. To back her up against the nearest wall and slide one hand beneath the hem of her very prim and proper black skirt that hugged her hips and flared out around her knees. To wrap that thick, silky looking hair of hers around his other fist to pull her head back so his mouth would have unobstructed access to the creamy expanse of her throat, while his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her panties and touched her intimately, deeply.

See? He was totally going to hell.

Regretfully, and out of respect, he'd pushed her away. Because it was the right thing to do and the last thing he wanted was for her to realize his dick was hard. But mostly, he'd ended the embrace—no matter how innocent she'd believed the gesture was—because he had absolutely no business coveting another man's fiancée.

Yet, as she walked a few steps ahead of him, his disobedient gaze strayed from all that luxurious hair tumbling down her back and traced along the indentation of her waist. He shamelessly watched the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the perfect curve of her ass that made his palms itch to grab, caress, and smack just hard enough to make her gasp, then moan . . .

Jesus, Christ, he thought with a firm shake of his head. What was he? A goddamn hormonal teenager who had no discipline when it came to a girl he was attracted to? It certainly felt that way, and he needed to get his shit together, like now.