But I don’t stop. I release the pillow, reaching my hands between our bodies to stroke him up and down through his boxer briefs. He’s long and ready and throbbing. “Why are we still wearing fucking clothes? Take these off.”

The wait is unbearable.

Agonizing.

I’m begging now. “Please, Collin, take them off.”

“You don’t have to fucking tell me twice.” He rolls off me to swiftly strip himself bare, and I do the same, fumbling to unclasp my bra and peel off my underwear, dropping them to the floor.

“I don’t know if I can wait.” Collin licks my ear lobe as he settles himself between my thighs, stiff in all the right places. I moan my appreciation—loudly—into the hollow of his neck when he rotates his pelvis, grinding into me, and press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna make you come so hard.””

I want more.

He gives it to me.

Yes… Yes, Collin. More.

A distraction: that’s what she’s been for the past several weeks. I wanted her blonde, beautiful, and beneath me.

And now she’s here.

Her neck thrown back as my mouth eagerly imprints the smooth, bare skin of her shoulder, Tabitha’s golden hair spills across my pillow. I brush the hair out of her face, cupping her jawline with my palm.

My thumb strokes her bottom lip and I lower my chin until our lips meld together. Brush back and forth. Once. Twice.

I savor the feel of our naked bodies pressed together, impatient to feel her around my hardened cock, the pulsing between my legs almost un-fucking-bearable, wanting to dig in deep.

I don’t want to rush her, but—

“Condom, now. Collin, Collin,” she chants my name. “Enough playing around. I need it now.”

I give it to her then, sliding in and nailing her slow and fast and… motherfucker… Soft and hard and… fuck, Tabitha, right fucking there… Slick with sweat, the air thick with urgency, we move in sync, whispering. Demanding. Coaxing.

Gasping.

The fucking moaning never ends.

“Yes… oh, mmm, God, Collin… Collin… Uh! Oh god…”

“...Hold on tight to the headboard, baby... Fuck me, Tabitha, just like that…”

“…Right there… p-please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t… stop…”

We’re raw. We’re tender.

We’re a walking, talking cliché.

Fuck. Yeah.

We settle into a pattern after our night together—meeting at Blooming Grounds during the work week; he works and I write. Laughing, talking. Dinners. Hiking.

Movies at his place.

Our feelings for each other grow; we ache.

We burn.

We hold hands, talk, kiss constantly. Cuddle.

Touch.

And have sex. Lots and lots of hot, incredible sex.

We make love, too.

Collin Keller is everything I’ve ever wanted—everything I’ve only fantasized about in writing.

B lare watched Adam from across the bedroom as he pulled off his shirt, stalked over, and pulled back the covers on his side of her bed. Sliding in, he reached over, trailing a hand down her bare stomach. “Tired?” he asked, kissing her shoulder.

“Yes and no,” she said, stretching like a feline alley cat, satisfied and content. “It was a long day.” Blare might have worked for her parents during the day, but she had a side project she worked on at night. Moonlighting as an artist was taking its toll.

Adam went further down her body, disappearing under the covers. “Sweetie, don’t you think it’s time to tell someone besides me?” His voice was tentative and unsure. He’d suggested it before, but… “I’m not ready. Give me time.”

“When will it be time, Blare? It’s been over a year.”

Blare stiffened under his inquisition, but softened immediately when his fingers… did that thing... right… there…in that spot… “Yes. I know. I will, but I have to be the one to tell, okay? Promise you won’t say anything.”

He kissed her neck. Nipped at her breasts. Licked in that spot that drove her absolutely wild.

“Baby, I promise.” Adam kissed her abs. Her belly button. “You can trust me. I won’t tell a soul….”

Blare lost herself in him then as he worshiped her body. Loving him.

Trusting him...

“Greyson tells me you’ve been spending shit tons of time with my sister. That’s a big change from her avoiding you at your party.” That’s something I’ve always respected about Cal since he started dating Greyson; he doesn’t fuck around. When he wants to know something, he asks—he doesn’t beat around the bush, and he’s not passive aggressive.

But that doesn’t mean I have to give him a full shakedown of my personal business.

I glance over my shoulder in the direction of the restrooms, where the girls have disappeared to. We’re at a bar in Calumet, the city where Cal attends an Ivy League university, and coordinated the trip for a weekend Greyson happened to be staying with him.

Win-win for all of us.

For Tabitha and me, it was like killing two birds with one stone, getting to visit them both at once. It’s also the first time our siblings will see us acting like an actual couple.

“Dude. Are you listening to me?” Cal prods me in the ribs.

“We’re having fun.”

Lot of sex. Lots of fun.

“We’re having fun?” He snorts, resting his elbows on the counter in the bar we’re sitting in. “Humor me and define fun, would you, because you say fun and all I hear is I’m banging your sister.”

Cal uses air quotes when he sarcastically intones the word fun.

He’s perceptive. Calculating. And clearly not amused.

I look him in the eye, tapping the bottom of the beer bottle in my hand against the counter. “Without getting into detail, Tabitha and I are friends—”

“It better not be friends with fucking benefits.”

“Would you let me finish?” Okay, initially I assumed he was going to be cool with me dating his sister, but now I’m not so sure. I tread lightly, choosing my next words carefully. Don’t get me wrong—Cal is cool guy and he’s perfect for Greyson, but he’s also built like a tank, has about thirty pounds on me, and I’ve literally watched him suckerpunch a guy between the eyes during a rugby match. So yeah. Pissing him off is not on the itinerary.

“Tabitha and I are friends. I’m not just physically attracted to her; I respect the shit out of her. Do you even know how amazing she is?” I take a swig of beer. “The minute I saw her, I just kn—why the fuck are you staring at me like that? Am I starting to sound like a goddamn pansy?”

Cal rolls his eyes. “The minute you saw her at your housewarming party?”

“No, man, the minute I saw her hiding behind a rack of chairs at Target, working herself up into a tizzy, wearing that cute pink hat. So fucking adorable.” I chuckle when Cal looks back at me, his brows scrunched into a confused scowl.

“My sister is not adorable. She overreacts to everything and is a giant pain in the…” He stops short when I cock an eyebrow.