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Ava’s house, so I was driving a route I knew well. Clouds had gathered in front of the moon and the road was dark. The trees closed in on both sides, leaving a narrow path that blended with its surroundings except for the tunnel of light beamed ahead of us by my truck. We barreled through the black corridor.
    I curled my fingers around Nick’s, which were still curled around my thigh. He flipped his hand and took mine, then started stroking my fingers with his. Twenty agonizingly long minutes later, we reached Nick’s hotel and parked next to the building. I jumped barefooted out of the truck.
    “This way,” he said, and I followed.

Chapter Eight
    Nick opened the door to his hotel room and flipped on the light switch. My mouth went dry and I froze, feeling exposed in the garish light. I had waited so long for this, imagined it so many times. Hell, I’d already had more orgasms than I could count with this man, none of which had required his actual presence. What was wrong with me?
    He turned to look back at me. “Are you OK?”
    I nodded.
    I would be so much better with a rum punch. Or a Bloody Mary. Anything with alcohol in it would work, would take the edge off, would make me less me and more sexy.
    Nick smiled at me and my hot face burst into flames.
    “Come on in,” he said. He reached out for my hand and pulled me to him, kicked the door shut with one foot, and slid the other hand around my waist, drawing me in and saying those last words with our lips touching, which ended up as much nibbling as speaking, and resulted in a free-falling kiss.
    Oh. My. God.
    Kissing had never seemed like a big deal to me. With Bart, I’d gotten to the point where I would rather we did the deed and skipped the kissing part. I thought it was invasive and animalistic. But I was so wrong—I just hadn’t been kissing the right guy.
    With Nick, my insides swirled and my hands moved of their own accord. Oh, the lean, hard shape of him under my palms, the too-good-to-be-true sensation of his skin under my fingertips as my hands found their way under his shirt. His fingers floated up my arms and across my shoulders, down my chest and up my sides, sliding in and out of the edges of my dress to tease my breasts. Somehow, without me even realizing it, Nick found his way under my skirt and his fingers walked up my thighs and across the front of my panties. I gasped and he shoved his hands under the bodice and sent the dress over my head and onto the floor.
    “You are so beautiful,” he said.
    He held me away from him and his eyes burned as they roamed over me. He skimmed his palms down my arms and caught my hands in his. I closed my eyes.
    “Katie?”
    It was so much easier to feel sexy in a blue Michael Kors dress than standing naked under a hotel light. I prayed that he wouldn’t notice the dimpled parts of me. I prayed that I could keep my mouth shut about the lights.
    “The lights,” I said, failing.
    “I’ll close my eyes.”
    “But Nick,” I said.
    He kissed my nose. “No problem.”
    I exhaled and opened my eyes. Nick had his back to me as he pulled his shirt off. Muscles rippled under his brown skin. He flicked off the light switch and as soon as the room darkened, I felt a wave of released tension. I heard the rustle of his shorts as he unbuttoned them and kicked them off. Then his body met mine, full contact from knee to shoulders, and his skin warmed the places where mine had cooled as soon as he moved away.
    “Thank you,” I whispered.
    “Of course,” he said.
    He started moving me slowly backwards by my shoulders. When the backs of my knees met the edge of the bed, he pressed one hand into the small of my back, then slid his other hand around to cradle my neck. He lowered me onto the bed and moved above me so smoothly that our lips never broke contact. He reached down and removed my last article of clothing, and I did the same for him.
    But even as the front of me enjoyed Nick, the back of me realized I was