My heart melts for the kid a little more. “When is it?”

“Thursday afternoon. You don’t have to go.”

“Are you kidding?  Of course I’ll go. I have nothing else to do.”

Latson’s arms circle my waist and he pulls me close. “You have me to do.”

My heart skips. “Oliver asked first. I can’t see you next Thursday.”

He leans in and rests his forehead against mine. “Sneaky kid.”

“Are you jealous?”

He looks up. “I have been. The night he fell asleep with you on the couch?  I’ve never been so jealous of a seven-year-old in my entire life.”

I want to grin. Instead, I tip my head and run my finger along his shirt collar. “Is that why you felt the need to carry me to bed?”

Latson’s eyes grow dark. “No. But I feel the need to carry you to bed right now.”

He tightens his hold around my waist and presses my body to his. I can feel the need he’s talking about.

Holy shit. It’s an impressive need.

“I thought you said we didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want.”

He blinks. “I did. I’m sorry.”

He tries to step back, but I hold on to him. “That’s not what I meant.” I stand on my toes and find his ear. “I meant I don’t want you to carry me to bed. I can walk.”

He buries his face against my neck. “You’re killing me.”

Latson starts to walk backward, pulling me along with him. His mouth assaults my skin, kissing and nipping wherever he touches. I close my eyes and run my fingers into his hair, behind his head, to keep him in place. We make it into the hallway, the one where I shot him during the Nerf war, and his hands slide from my waist, to my hips, to my ass. When we stop walking, one of his hands disappears and I hear a door open. He steps back and takes my hand, leading me into his room.

The lights are off, but the moon is high in the sky. Its light shines through sliding glass doors illuminating an impressive master suite. It’s big, bigger than any of the rooms in Pete’s apartment, and I remember Latson renovated the entire floor. In addition to a California king, there’s the typical furniture – a large dresser and two end tables. There’s also a seating area, with an entertainment center and a loveseat. I can also see a set of double doors which I assume lead to a closet. Or maybe it’s a bathroom.

We stop walking next to the bed and Latson wraps me in his arms. He runs his fingers up and down my back and asks, “Are you sure?”

I want to tell him my freaking blood is on fire, of course I’m sure. Rather than do that, I reach between us and pull at the bottom of his shirt. “I want to see you,” I whisper. Without question, he reaches for the back of his collar and pulls the shirt over his head. He crumples it in his hands and tosses it on the floor as I stand there and stare.

Good lord.

I go for his abs first. There’s no other choice when there are so many of them. I set my hands flat on his stomach, then run them over his defined muscles. I feel his breathing catch as I take my time tracing them before moving higher on his chest. His skin is so smooth I start to worry about my own. Pushing the thought aside, I step closer and start to follow my fingers with my tongue. Yep. I literally lick him.

He groans and grabs hold of my waist, pulling at my dress and lifting my skirt. “How does this thing come off?” he murmurs as he tries to figure it out.

I stop treating him like an ice cream cone and move back. I step out of my shoes before reaching behind my neck. “It’s pretty simple.” I smile.

He smiles back, but doesn’t let me continue. He turns me around and then gathers my hair in one hand. I feel the tie on my dress loosen, then watch as the top half falls away. Suddenly, his mouth is on me, devouring the nape of my neck and traveling down across my shoulder. His touch feels warmer than before as he gently grips my hair and pulls, tilting my head in the opposite direction of his lips. His free hand sends a shiver down my spine as it slides around my middle, just grazing the bottom of my breasts. I think he realizes they’re free, because it takes only a second for his hand to find one and consume it.

It’s not long before my dress is gone and I’m lying on the bed. He stands over me, his feet still planted on the floor, and his eyes rake over my body as his hands skim every part. My nerves jump into overdrive when he gets to my pink bikinis and stops. He threads his thumbs under them at my hips, pauses to kiss around my belly, and then slides them slowly down my legs. When they’re off, he stands and spins them around one finger. “I think I’ve seen these before.”

I’m confused. “What?  How?”

He grins and lets my underwear fly off his finger. “I believe you called it Stripper Therapy.”

Oh my God. He’s right. I didn’t even realize I put on the same pair. Wait. “You remember what I was wearing?”

He leans halfway over me and lifts my legs, running his hands down the back of them. “Every detail of that performance is burned into my mind.”

Everything inside me tenses. My eyes fall on his jeans and I set my feet against the front of them, curling my toes over the waistband. “Why are you still dressed?”

He undoes the button, and I help him shove them off with my feet. When he’s standing there in his boxer briefs, I have a flashback to dinner. My glasses fantasy can totally come true. When he rids himself of his Calvin’s, I make a mental note to make that fantasy come true. This man is gorgeous.

I push myself sideways, further into the center of the bed and toward the pillows.

“Where are you going?” He grabs my ankle and pulls me back.

“Not far. I just –” Sweet mother!  His hand slides between my legs causing my back to arch and my hips to jump. As my limbs go limp and my mind clouds over, I’ve never been so happy that he picked up a guitar and mastered it than I am right now. All rational thought leaves my mind as his movements bring sensations that build and build until my body lets go and hums.

When I come down from the high, my eyes flutter open to see him backing away. Now it’s my turn to murmur. “Where are you going?”

He kisses me and smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

When he leaves, I want to complain about being cold without him near, but I can’t. The view I get when he walks away is priceless. Shoulders: strong. Back: toned. Waist: tapered. Ass: perfect. I bite my lip to suppress a grin. I can’t wait to get my hands on every inch of him.

Latson makes it to the doorway and reaches inside to flip the light switch. He enters the bathroom and stands there, butt naked, and starts to rummage through the medicine cabinet. I think I know what he’s looking for, so I slide myself up toward the head of the bed.

When he turns off the light and returns to me, he wastes no time covering my body with his. He plants kisses along my chin and down my neck, and I zero in on his shoulder with my lips. As my hands explore his back, he leans up on his elbows and holds a condom between his fingertips. “Sorry. I don’t keep these handy anymore.”

I tilt my head. “There’s one in your hand right now.”

“I meant in a convenient location. It’s been …”  He looks down and then back at me. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had anyone in my bed.”

“Are you blushing?” I tease.

He shakes his head and gives me his lopsided dimple smile.

“You are blushing!”  I grin. “Give me this thing.” I steal the plastic from him. As I tear it open, he brings his hands to the sides of my face and gently pushes my hair behind my ears.

“Jen.” His eyes focus on mine. “I don’t know what this is.”

“It’s sex,” I laugh.

His eyes grow intense. “Hell, yes.” He flexes his hips against mine, giving me a taste of what’s to come. My laughter fades into a moan.

“God. I love that sound,” he breathes. “What I meant is I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”