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“Fuck, baby.”

“Mm,” she says, and moves faster.

I gather her hair in one hand and hold it out of her face. She looks up at me, and I know that look now. She’s checking. She does it when she says something she thinks is funny, too, that little pause where she watches my face to see if I got it. I always get it. I don’t always give her the satisfaction. She gets it now, though. Whatever she sees on my face makes the corner of her mouth turn up before she takes me deeper.

“Fuck, Kylie.”

It hits hard enough that my head goes back into the pillow. She doesn’t stop, and I have to put my hand flat on the mattress, because if I put it back in her hair, I’m going to forget how careful I’m supposed to be with her. I come down her throat, and she swallows it. She pulls back, sucking the tip, which is sensitive as hell, and then she sits back on her heels with the blanket around her.

I stare at her. Her hair’s everywhere. Her cheeks are pink, her lips are red, and her eyes are so fucking blue.

“What are you doing to me?” I breathe.

She tucks her bottom lip into her mouth and doesn’t say anything. Her eyes stay on mine. I put myself away and put both hands behind my head.

“Kylie Vandercook,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I’ve never—”

She crawls over me with the blanket behind her and sits on my hips, blushing. “Don’t leave me hanging, Nash.”

I take her thighs and run my hands up until I’m sitting, face to face with her. I kiss her and let her suck on my lips, and then I pull back and look at her.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” I whisper.

She takes my face in both hands, and her fingers move up and down my cheek, and she smiles at me so sweetly that my heart’s trying to get out through the ceiling.

Then she says, “Nobody’s ever sucked your dick before?”

My heart drops to the floor.

“That’s it,” I mutter.

I grab her, blanket and all, and spin her onto her back. Her legs open and let me all the way against her. I rest my forearms on either side of her face. She’s laughing the whole time with her hands on my shoulders.

“I’m kidding.”

I kiss her. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“I’m right there with you, Nash.”

I shake my head.

She touches my face. “I’m serious. It wasn’t like this with my ex.”

That stops me.

She pulls my face down close to hers and whispers, “This is so much better.”

I slide my hand into her pajama pants and under her underwear, and she’s soaking. “So what does that mean?”

She inhales when I find her and press a finger in. She grips my shoulders and lets the breath out. I add a second finger and watch her face go soft. I work them in and out, curling, with my thumb circling at the top.

Her brows pull together. “What does what mean?”

“You and me,” I say, watching her, and pick up speed.

Her head falls back. Then her eyes come open properly, and she’s looking at me, and her hand closes around my wrist. She isn’t moving it. She’s holding on. I don’t stop. I slow down.

“You said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” I remind her.