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Damn, this girl can undo me with a single word.

“And?”

Then her hands move to my shoulders.

“I want to stop being afraid of what happens next.”

I close my eyes for a second. Because that's exactly it, that's what I've been trying to say all night.

I can promise her we'll take our time, that I'll listen. That I'll stop the second she asks me to. But I can't promise this won't change things. It already has.

“Me too,” I tell her.

She finishes unbuttoning my shirt and pushes it from my shoulders. I let it fall on the floor with her dress. Her palms settle against my bare chest. The warmth of them makes me draw a slow breath.

She rises onto her toes. “Kiss me already.”

I do. And this time, I don't hold back.

I slide one hand into her hair, the other settling against her waist as I pull her close. Her arms circle my neck. She kisses me with none of the uncertainty she had a moment ago, and I feel the last of my carefully constructed restraint start to give.

Not because I've forgotten everything that matters.

Because I've finally stopped treating wanting her like something I should be ashamed of.

I kiss the corner of her mouth.

Her cheek.

The delicate place beneath her ear.

She tips her head, giving me room, and I press another kiss against her neck.

“Still okay?” I murmur.

Her fingers tighten against my shoulders.

“Very.”

I smile against her skin.

“Good.”

She pulls back just enough to look at me.

There's color in her cheeks and a few loose strands of hair caught against her lips.

I brush them away.

“Can I tell you something?” she asks.

“Anything.”

“I used to wish for this.”

I go still. “What?”

She glances toward the windows. “When I was in high school and college. Heck, the first night I stayed here.”