Okay. That was hot. Gabe always knows just what to say. “Let’s take your shirt off then,” I whisper.

He takes a step back and reaches behind his neck, pulling his shirt off in that easy, wholly masculine way guys do. I watch, breathless when he reveals all that hard, bare skin, my gaze roving over him like a starving woman who just caught sight of her first meal in years.

I’ve seen his chest before. Many times. He roams around here in only his swim trunks approximately eighty-five percent of the time, I swear. He’s on vacation after all. Mama told me a lot of the houses in the neighborhood are rented out during the summer. That I lucked out with the Walkers renting the house while I’m next door is a wondrous little fact I haven’t failed to notice.

As in, I’m feeling pretty damn lucky this summer. Even luckier that he’s so interested me. Boring, poor little me. I’m a nobody. I’ve always been a nobody but Gabe makes me feel…special. Like I’m sexy. Like I’m the only girl that matters to him. And I like that. I love it.

But enough about me and how Gabe makes me feel. Right now, I’m interested in examining his chest in an up close and personal way. He’s not outrageously built. Not too intimidating like some overly muscular guy with bulging, rippling muscles and six pack abs. Gabe’s got a sexy body but it’s not over the top. Firm, not an inch of fat on him anywhere, with normal abs, with just a hint of definition.

I better touch his stomach to make sure.

I skim my fingers over his stomach, the muscles flinching beneath my touch. I’m fascinated with his reaction and touch him again, tracing a circle around his navel, running that same finger down the thin path of hair that leads from his belly button straight down, past the waistband of his shorts. His skin is so hot and the dark hair is so soft…

Gabe snatches my wrist, his fingers locking around it, stopping me. I look up at him, see the firm lock of his jaw, his mouth thin. “You want me to stop?” I ask.

“Only if you’re teasing me.” He closes his eyes briefly, his fingers flexing around my wrist, though he doesn’t let me go. “You’re making me crazy, Lucy.”

Oh, he’s extra pretty like this, so tortured, with those sexy, hooded eyes and grim determination written all over him. He blows out a harsh breath. I feel sort of bad for putting him through this but then again, I like it. That I’m the one who’s responsible for his torture, for making him feel this way.

I can’t say a word in response but I hope he can sense my eagerness, my need. For him.

My surrender.

His gaze never leaves mine as he lets go of my wrist and rests his hands on my waist, walking me backward. The back of my legs hit the edge of the bed and then I’m falling down, landing on the mattress with Gabe braced above me.

Air seizes in my lungs when he flexes his hips and I feel the hard length of him against me. I’m amazed that I have this sort of effect on him. That he wants me.

“Will you let me take this off?” He toys with the hem of my shirt and my already racing heart picks up speed. Should I let him? “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

Oh. Well. Yes, I should definitely let him.

Without a word I nod, sinking my teeth into my lower lip. He lifts away from me and edges my shirt upward, slowly exposing my rounded stomach, the fabric catching on my breasts. Slightly mortified at my too big chest, I close my eyes and lift my arms, allowing Gabe to pull the shirt completely off of me.

Which he does because he’s a guy and he wants to check me out. I don’t mind. I want to do this. I want him to see me. I swear I feel his gaze roaming all over me, lingering on my breasts. They’re spilling out of the top of my pale blue lace bra and I hope he doesn’t think I look too fat. I can’t help that my boobs are so big...

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his reverent tone causing my eyes to flash open. I see the appreciative glow in his gaze and my skin warms.

Before I can say anything he claims my mouth, kissing me, his hands on my chest. I arch into his touch, the whimper that escapes me he swallows whole. He ends the kiss almost as fast as he started it and runs his nose along my neck, inhaling deeply. “Damn, you smell good.”

I drape my arms across his shoulders, lightly scratching his back with my fingernails. He shifts closer to me, a soft groan falling from his perfect lips just before he captures mine once more, his tongue busy, his hands busier. Those very busy hands are cupping my breasts, holding them, lightly massaging them and oh God, it feels so good. So unbelievably, amazingly good that I want more. I writhe beneath him, trying to get closer, desperate to absorb him and when he lightly brushes my hard nipples with his thumbs I feel like I’m about to leap out of my skin.

“Sensitive,” he murmurs against my lips, sounding pleased. “Fuck, you are perfect, Luce.”

He told me that once more and I didn’t believe him. If he keeps saying it though, I’m going to start thinking he might be speaking the truth. Maybe I am perfect.

Perfect just for him.

Damn, she feels good beneath me. All warm, soft skin and delicious curves I want to sink into. Her tits are spectacular and I want to tear that lacy bra she’s wearing to shreds so I can expose her completely.

I’m dying to see her naked. Fucking dying for it.

It surprises me how eager she is, how much she seems to want it. Want me. I need to be careful. She’s a virgin. She won’t let me in, not tonight, no matter how persuasive I might be.

And I can be pretty damn persuasive.

I won’t be with Lucy, though. I don’t want to push too hard and force her to do something she’ll later regret. Pushing and forcing a girl to do anything definitely isn’t my style and I’m not about to start with Lucy. I want to be patient for her. Worthy of her giving me her virginity…

Pausing, I lift my head and stare at the wall. Wait a minute. I want Lucy to give me her virginity? Me, the guy who thought he was doing the right thing by walking away from her? By telling her I’m the wrong guy for her?

I might still be the wrong guy for her but I’m starting to think that doesn’t matter anymore. Hell, I don’t think it matters to her either. The attraction between us is so strong it’s ridiculous. Every time we get near each other it’s like we’re filled with the overwhelming need to get our mouths together and tear each other’s clothes off.

Which is fucking hot. There might be no fucking happening tonight but we can do other stuff. And that other stuff can be just as hot as the actual deed is.

“Hey.” Lucy touches my cheek and I glance down at her, noting her flushed cheeks, her plump mouth. What I would give to see those lips stretched around the head of my dick… “You okay?”

Nodding, I take a deep breath. I can’t tell her what I was thinking. She’ll think I’m an asshole. I can’t ask for a blowjob. But a hand job would be good. Damn good. I’d return the favor too. I’m a generous guy. It’s better to give than to receive and all that shit.

“I’m good,” I say, pausing when I think I hear a car pull into the front driveway of the house. Shit.

Lucy goes still beneath me, the only movement being her chest as she breathes. Meaning I’m immediately enthralled with the rise and fall of her breasts. “Did you hear that?” she whispers.