And because he’s taken so many steps to me, I make this one toward him. “Why are you in my home? Why are you having dinner with my dad? Why do you want to meet my friends?” They aren’t questions though. They’re statements about where we’ve found ourselves. His eyes never stray from mine as I run my thumb along his jaw, ready to be completely honest. “Maybe it’s because there’s much more here than chemistry. More than the hashtag Best-Sex-Ever effect.”

Fitz lets out a breath like I’ve freed him, like I’ve given him everything he needs. “So much more,” he echoes, his shoulders relaxing, his arms looping around my neck, and his lips zeroing in on mine as he repeats “You are so much more” against my mouth, kissing me.

I close my eyes as those words reverberate in my head. You are so much more.

They’re the chorus of a song, and they don’t stop playing, and we don’t stop kissing for a long time.

When he breaks the kiss, he says, “You know, sometimes talking to you is like leading a horse to water.”

“Are you going to make me drink?”

“I’d like to make you take my cock.”

“What do you know? I’d like to have it.” I put a hand over the front of his jeans, where he’s hard and ready for me. “Because I like you and your cock so very much.”

“The feeling is mutual,” he says, tossing my pet phrase back at me.

As we slide back into the games we play, the teasing, the never-ending flirting, the dirty words all feel bigger too.

More necessary.

They cover up what’s simmering, all the next steps and possibilities we can’t have.

The only thing we can have is the now.

And in the now, I want contact. I want it desperately, and I need the sex to drown out the refrain in my head.

You are so much more.

Except the volume knob is broken, and those words can’t be turned down, even as I take his hand, lead him to my bedroom, and strip him naked.

But I try hard.

I try so damn hard to just zoom in on the sex.

I pin him to the bed, my hands on his shoulders, our bodies aligned. “Do you realize I haven’t had you in my mouth nearly enough times?”

“Are you worried you’ll forget what I taste like?”

“So damn worried.”

His eyes glint with dirty deeds. “That’d be such a shame.”

I grind against him. I’m still in my clothes, and for some reason, I like this inequity. It gives me a chance to be fully in charge of his pleasure.

His eyes squeeze shut, and his lips part on a heavy breath. “You should fix that now.”

“I should. And I will. But I’m giving you fair warning about something.”

“What’s that?”

I lean in even closer, bringing my mouth to his ear. “I’m going to tease the fuck out of you.”

Fitz groans. “I’d expect nothing less.”

I slide down his body slowly, taking my time and kissing him as I go. A brush of my lips on his shoulder. A kiss on his throat that makes him groan. A flick of my tongue across his pecs. A bite of his right nipple, then the left, then a lick across the words No Regrets.

“I think I’ll trace this letter by letter,” I say.

“Please do.”

My tongue coasts across the ink, then down to his abs, where I savor the landscape of his body, the grooves between all those hard muscles, licking and kissing and wanting never to stop.

“You’re killing me, babe. What are you doing to me?” he rasps.

It’s a valid question. And I answer it in my head. Imprinting you on my mind so I don’t forget.

As my lips glide across his flesh, I say, “Just making sure you don’t forget me.”

“As if I could.”

I reach the V of his abs, and he’s already rocking his hips, seeking me out, begging for my attention.

My head goes hazy with his longing, and my own too, as I move closer and closer to where I want to be.

When my mouth reaches his shaft, he’s pulsing, and there’s a bead of liquid at the tip, just waiting for me.

I lick it off.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands shooting to my head, curling around me like a vise.

I can tell he wants me to take care of him straightaway, to get him there fast, but I know, too, how much better it’ll be if I drive him crazy, so I reach up to loosen his hands.

“Just let me,” I say quietly. “Let me do this slow. Let me enjoy every second of having you in my mouth.”

He huffs, but then relinquishes his grip, hands going slack but still holding my head. “Okay. Do your thing to me, babe.”

I look up at him. His eyes are hooded, desperate. “I will.”

And I return to kissing his shaft. No. I’m adoring it. I lick him like he’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, because he is.

Tags: Lauren Blakely Romance