I crossed the distance slowly, giving her time to change her mind, to step away. But she didn't move. Just watched me with those eyes that saw too much.
I cupped her face in my hands, thumbs brushing away her tears. "I'm falling for you, Candi. Hard. And it terrifies me."
"Me too," she whispered. "I'm falling for you too."
The moment stretched—all that honesty, all that fear, all that wanting.
Then I kissed her.
Not for show this time. Not for anyone but us.
She made a soft sound and melted against me, her hands fisting in my shirt. The kiss was hungry, desperate, all the tension from the past week breaking open between us.
I backed her toward the stairs, lips never leaving hers. "Tell me you want this."
"I want this. I want you."
We made it to my bedroom, barely. Moonlight streamed through the windows, giving the room an otherworldly glow.
I laid her on the bed, taking my time, drinking in the sight of her golden hair spread across my pillows, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths, eyes dark with desire.
"We can stop anytime," I said. "Just say the word."
"Don't you dare stop." She tugged me down for another kiss.
I took my time undressing her—peeling off her sweater, unhooking her bra, sliding off her jeans and underwear in one smooth motion. She was gorgeous, all soft curves and smooth skin laid bare before me.
"You're perfect. Every inch of you."
"You're overdressed," she said, tugging at my henley.
I stripped it off, watching her eyes widen as she took in my chest, my shoulders, the tight curls of gray hair that dusted down my stomach.
"God, you're sexy," she breathed, reaching for me.
"That's my line." I kissed down her neck, her collarbone, between her breasts. "Tell me what you like."
"I—I don't know. I’ve only been with Drew, and he never really asked."
That stopped me. "Your ex-fiancé never asked what you liked in bed?"
She shook her head, color rising in her cheeks.
"Then we're going to figure it out together." I kissed her slowly, thoroughly. "And you're going to tell me what feels good. I want you to own this. Own what you want."
I worked my way down her body, kissing and touching, paying attention to what made her gasp, what made her arch against me. Her skin was impossibly soft, and she responded to every touch like she'd been waiting for this.
When I kissed the inside of her thigh, she trembled.
"Relax," I murmured. "I've got you."
I kissed my way up slowly, building anticipation, until I settled between her thighs. She was already wet, her body responding even as her hands clutched nervously at the sheets.
The first touch of my tongue made her cry out, hips jerking. I gripped her thighs, holding her steady, and explored slowly. She tasted sweet and clean, and the sounds she made—little gasps and whimpers—went straight to my cock.
"Oh god," she whimpered, one hand flying to my hair.
I found her clit with my tongue, circling it slowly before sucking gently. She moaned with pleasure, and I felt the tremble run through her whole body.
