I don't need to be told twice.
I close the distance and capture her mouth with mine, and this kiss differs from the ones we've shared this week. They were soft. Tentative. Testing boundaries.
This is heat and hunger and five days of pent-up need finally breaking free.
She gasps against my mouth, and I take advantage, deepening the kiss. My hands slide down to her hips, fingers curling into the soft fabric of my T-shirt, pulling her flush against me. Her body fits against mine as if she’s made for it.
Her hands move up my chest, over my shoulders, threading into my hair. She tugs, just a little, and I groan into her mouth.
"Troy," she whispers, voice shaking.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"I need—" She breaks off, breath coming fast. "I need you."
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her eyes are dark, lips swollen from my kiss, cheeks flushed. "You sure?"
"I'm sure." Her fingers tighten in my hair. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
Something snaps inside me.
I lift her onto the counter in one smooth motion, stepping between her thighs. She gasps, legs wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer. I kiss her again, harder this time, pouring everything I've been holding back into it.
My hands roam—over her thighs, her abundant hips, up her sides. She arches into my touch, a soft moan escaping her throat that makes my blood run hot.
"God, Ainsley," I murmur against her mouth. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
"Tell me," she breathes.
"Since the second you opened that door." I trail kisses down her jaw, her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips. "Since you stood there in those leggings, looking at me like I was trouble."
"You are trouble."
"Yeah?" I nip at the sensitive spot just below her ear, and she shivers. "Then why'd you let me move in?"
"Because I'm an idiot." Her laugh is breathless. "A very turned-on, horny idiot."
I pull back to look at her, and the sight of her—hair wild, shirt slipping off her shoulder, eyes heavy with want—undoes me.
"You're perfect," I say, and I mean it. Every word.
Her expression softens. "Troy—"
"I mean it." I cup her face in my hands, thumbs brushing over her cheeks. "You're perfect, Ainsley. And I'm going to spend the rest of the morning proving it to you."
Her breath hitches. "Promise?"
"Promise."
I kiss her again, slow and deep, and she melts into me. My hands slide under the hem of my T-shirt—her shirt now—fingers splaying across bare skin. She's warm and soft, and when I realize she's not wearing anything underneath, I nearly lose my mind.
"Jesus," I breathe against her mouth.
"What?"
"You're not wearing—"
"I know." Her hands drop to the hem of my shirt, tugging upward. "Take this off."
