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steel. I bet you never do anything by halves. When you have a job, you throw yourself into it and don’t let go until it’s done. I want to be the center of that attention, if only for a little while, because it’s fucking hot.”
    He steps even closer, and my brain tells me to turn and go back to my room. If I allow this to continue, I know things will turn out badly.
    Before I can decide what I want to do—and dithering is so not like me—Robin puts his arms around my neck and pulls me down to him. Like a fool, I actually think about pulling away, but then his lips touch mine with an electric spark that damn near stops my heart.
    His lips taste like strawberries, and I wonder if he’s wearing lip gloss. I deepen the kiss and realize it’s Chapstick. Not that I care in the least, because even beneath that he tastes sweet and hot, like chocolate mixed with chilies. And as soon as I encircle him in my arms, he presses close, vibrating against me. No one in my life has ever felt so alive to me. He’s right there, shaking with energy and desire… for me. I was the quintessential kid no one wanted, and Robin’s doing just that. He more than wants me, and I suddenly need him more than I need air.
    Robin melts in my arms for a few seconds, letting me have my way. Then, with a sudden rigidity, he pulls back, glaring at me in the fucking best way possible. Without a word, he tugs at the base of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
    I gasp at the beauty of his lithe, willowy body and at the angry-looking scar across his left side. I want to ask what happened, to know what the story is, but that single blemish on otherwise perfection changes my perception of him yet again. Why is it that every time I turn a corner with Robin, I discover something new that only brings into relief just how much we have in common?
    I swallow hard and go to pull him close again. Robin is quick; I have to give him that. He takes hold of the loose tail of my T-shirt with grabby hands and pulls it upward. I raise my arms without thinking, and when my shirt goes too high for his reach, I pull it off the rest of the way myself.
    Robin reaches out and touches me, caressing his hands over my chest and stomach with almost tickling gentleness. “Man, I knew you were….” He swallows and rests his hands over the center of my chest. “Are they sensitive?” he asks, gliding his fingers over my nipples. I shake my head, and he grins. “Mine really are.”
    Hell, I have to see what that means, so I take my turn, stroking over smooth, silky skin. When I roll my thumb around one of his small nipples, he lolls his head back and shivers. He’s gorgeous, and I have to taste, so I slide my hands around his back and tug him closer, leaning forward. I flick my tongue over and around his nipple. It hardens under my tongue, and he shakes once again, moaning from deep in his throat.
    “I’m gonna….”
    I stop. “Just from that? Do you always react so forcefully?”
    “No.” Robin gasps. “I think it’s you.”
    Somehow I doubt it, but I suck his nipple once again, and Robin comes apart in my arms. Hell, it’s the most amazing thing I can ever remember. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or not; his reaction has my head rushing the same way it did the first time I jumped out of an airplane. This time the earth doesn’t get closer and the weightless soaring and rush of air don’t stop.
    “Brick.”
    I pull my lips away, lift him off his feet, and damn if those long legs don’t just slide around my hips, gripping me tight. I cradle his ass with one arm, carry him through the apartment to my bedroom, and set him on the bed. “Two seconds and those damn pants are history,” I growl.
    He bounces on the bed, and as I reach for the fabric to tear it away, the pants come down and fall in a heap on the floor. Not that I really notice, because, well, fucking hell. Robin isn’t a big guy, but parts of him sure as hell are. He’s amazingly perfect. I part his