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said, gesturing around to what Ivy could only interpret as meaning “galleries” or “dates.” “I really just want to fuck you,” he said, completely serious.
    After he said it he looked away, as if he had surprised himself.
    Ivy blinked. Well. Lucas was full of surprises.
    Usually she would see this kind of talk as a major red flag, but… it seemed less like he was trying to lure her into bed and more like he was just used to being honest about what he wanted.
    And… she wanted him so bad.
    She stood still as he removed his hand from hers and took her wrists in his hands, roughly pulling her close to him. He leaned down and brushed his lips over her forehead, nose, cheeks, before pressing his lips against hers.
    Unlike their first kiss, this one was slow and soft –yet somehow all the more sensual. He tasted like spices and good wine. Ivy’s lips tingled.
    A cough brought them apart. Ivy glanced over to the front of the building and saw the elderly curator staring at them.
    Lucas grabbed her hand and led her to the exit. They fell against the door of his car, now kissing with intention.
    Ivy’s heart was beating so fast she wondered if Lucas could feel it. She had never been kissed like this. Even Lucas’s very words were more erotic, straightforward, and arousing than any lovemaking she had ever experienced.
    He opened the car door behind them with one hand and they fell into the front seat. She could feel him against her thigh, hard, not hiding it.
    “I… Shouldn’t we go to your place?”
    He answered without lifting his head, his breath against her ear. “But I want you right now.”
    Ivy heard a group of people walk by. The combination of the unusual car and their physical actions must have been attracting a lot of attention. No one was just going to walk by a scene like that.
    She sat up, flustered and flushed. “I do too.” But when he leaned forward to kiss her, she moved to the passenger seat and sat up. “I’d rather be in private, though.”
    Lucas looked at her for a moment, then nodded and started the car.

Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    The drive seemed to take forever.
    Ivy couldn’t take her eyes off the way Lucas’s clothes clung to his body; the subtle bulge in his dark jeans, his determined gaze as he drove up to his building and pressed on the brakes.
    As soon as he put the car in park, he turned to Ivy and kissed her again, a hand in her hair. Too soon, he pulled away and led her to the door of the tiny yellow house he had parked in front of. “It’s a little messy,” he said.
    “I don’t care,” Ivy said.
    He unlocked the door. When they went inside he didn’t take the time to turn on lights or show her around. He walked a short way, hand on her waist, guiding her, before they entered his bedroom. He turned on a lamp in the corner.
    His room consisted of a mattress on a low metal bed frame, some generic furniture, and clothes hanging out of drawers. Yeah, this was messy. Not quite what she had expected from his put-together teacher presence.
    Though the room was messy, it was very clean. The bed was made, the sheets a pure light blue. The hardwood floor was swept and shining. It looked like a room that was well-maintained, but like the owner didn’t want to put in much effort to personalize it or make it home.
    Lucas pulled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor.
    Ivy’s breath caught in her throat. Though his lithe torso was definitely shocking, she had expected him to be fit. It wasn’t that that surprised her.
    Across the hard, defined muscles of his stomach was a tattoo of a dark jungle cat, its jaw open wide, snarling, sharp teeth glinting. The jungle cat’s paws reached up his torso toward his opposite shoulder, as if it were attacking something floating in the air by his chin.
    The lines of the creature were inked as if they had been painted with a brush thick with black paint. The huge tattoo looked like it belonged in a museum of medieval East Asian