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Leaning over, she took his mug from him and put it on the table. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His mouth was dry, but the tea was still too hot to aid in that predicament. “Why would anything be wrong?”

She smiled. “You’re nervous.”

Sam bounced his leg. “No, I’m not.”

Glancing down at where his leg was bouncing like a bunny on a trampoline, she placed a hand on it and stilled the movements. “Talk to me.”

Come on, Sam. Talking isn’t so hard. “I just . . . I wondered whether you might want to stay over tonight.” He rubbed his beard. “I mean, we don’t have to do anything, not if you don’t want to. But it’d be nice to sleep together.” His eyes widened as his pulse spiked. “I mean sleep as in go to sleep. Nothing else. Unless you want to, which would be nice.”

Nice? He closed his eyes, willing his stupid mouth to stop moving.

Maya was still smiling, so at least he hadn’t scared her off with that immensely unromantic monologue. Talk about not being smooth, he had less game than a misogynist at a feminist rally. She lifted a hand to run her fingers through his hair, and Sam felt like he’d settle for her doing that all night.

“What do you want?” she asked. “What do you really want? Not what you think I want to hear.”

Swallowing against his sandpaper-dry mouth, he took her hand, playing with her charm bracelet. “I’d love to do . . . stuff.” He glanced into her warm eyes. “But only if you’re definitely ready. I don’t want to rush you.”

He almost startled when she got up and then climbed onto his lap to straddle him. Leaning toward his ear, she let her lips brush his skin, sending a delicious sensation into his core. “Ready? I was ready in that boot room, eight years ago.”

Sam tried to voice his escalating emotions, but she was kissing his neck, and it made his brain short-circuit. He took a breath in an attempt to kick-start his cognitive processes, but then she bit his skin gently, and all that came out of his mouth was a groan.

Maya lifted her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were like dark liquid pools of desire.

She brushed her lips over his. “Is this what you’re nervous about?”

“Kind of,” he breathed against her mouth.

She sank more deeply onto him, drawing him in, and sliding her tongue against his. The fluttering sensation of his nerves was fast being dissolved by an intense heat that gathered low in his belly.

Maya broke off to rest her forehead against his. “Don’t be nervous. As long as this is what you want and it’s not too soon for you, then I’d love to.”

Sam pushed his fingers into her hair, tugging and tipping her head back to expose the long line of her neck. He dipped his head to kiss the skin there, licking and sucking until she let out that little moan, the one he remembered from the boot room all those years ago. It stoked the fire burning within him.

He let her face tip down and meet his gaze. “It’s what I want.” He paused, getting lost in her eyes for a moment. “I feel like I’ve wanted this forever.”

Maya slipped her hand down and over his jeans, onto where he was as hard as a rock. He sucked in his breath.

“Me too,” she whispered. Sinking into their kiss again, she teased his mouth with her tongue until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Here?” he breathed.

“No. I don’t think a little kitchen chair is the right spot for our first time.” She climbed off and took his hand, tugging him to his feet. “Let’s go to your room.”

Leading him along the hallway and up the stairs, Sam felt as if this were too good to be true and any moment now, he was going to waken and have to come to terms with the disappointment that it had just been an amazing dream.

Maya paused on the upstairs landing. “Which room is yours?”

For a moment he wasn’t sure what to say. Would it be weird for her to be in his bedroom after he’d shared it with Cat up until recently? Not that anything had happened in there for as long as he could remember, but still.

He pointed to each door in turn. “My room, or the spare room?”

Maya pulled him toward his bedroom, pushing the door open. “Hey. I’m not going to the general dumping ground.”

She spun around and kissed him as they neared the bed, then pushed his chest to lower him down on it. Stepping toward him, she dipped her head and kissed him again slowly, spiraling his heart out of control, before standing straight and lifting off her woolly jumper.

Sam gripped the edges of the bed, unable to tear his eyes from her movements.