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clear thoughts impossible. Letting go of the last thread she had on her inhibitions, she let her head fall back and to the side as his hot breath fanned over the shell of her ear.
    His hands began to clench, his fingers digging into the softness of her body. She spoke his name on a moan…
    And everything stopped.
    With a muttered curse Reid took hold of her arms to steady her as he stepped away. Once assured she wasn’t about to face-plant into the mirror, he scrubbed his palms down his face, then winced and held his bad shoulder. “I’m really sorry, Lucie. I— Shit, I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
    Bam! Oh, goodie. Reality was back. She waved a hand in the air and gave him a carefree pshh that sounded more like a horse blowing air through loose lips since she couldn’t feel hers worth a damn. “Don’t even give it a second thought. I’m more than tipsy so my judgment is shot, and you had your eyes closed, so you can’t be faulted for your libido imagining I was someone else.” Willing herself not to fall and make a further ass of herself, she walked over to retrieve her pajamas from where she’d left them on the floor.
    “Lu…”
    Plastering on a smile, she finally turned. There was a brief moment where she may or may not have threatened her eyeballs with a painful gouging from their sockets if they so much as strayed from his face to take in the hard-body scenery below. She may be drunk and seriously lacking in shame, but there was only so much her pride could take. “Honestly, Reid, it’s no big deal. I’m just really tired. It’s been a long week.”
    Again with the forward palm-brushing thing before he placed both hands on his hips and studied her for what felt like an eternity. “Okay, yeah, I guess we should both hit the sack. I mean go to bed. Sleep! Shit.”
    Yep. He sucked at this word-choice game thing. She’d have to remember never to be partners with him when playing Taboo! or Catch Phrase . “Good night, Reid.”
    “Night, Luce.”
    As soon as her door was shut, she beat the land-speed record for changing clothes while intoxicated and slid under the covers. Thankfully she’d brushed her teeth after her shower earlier because leaving her room to use the only bathroom in the apartment and taking the chance of continuing their Awkward Tango was so out of the question.
    …
     
    Reid focused on the sound of his feet hitting the belt of the treadmill, the rhythmic pounding a therapeutic soundtrack to the punishment he gave his body.
    Though he’d told Lucie he planned on going to sleep, there was no way he could actually do that until he expelled the pent up energy he’d gained from Lucie’s first-lesson-gone-bad. He’d lost count of how many times the scene replayed itself in his head like a DVD stuck on repeat with no damn off button.
    His eyes had been closed the whole time, but he hadn’t been lying when he said that his hands would create their image in his mind. It’d been over a decade since his hands had touched any sort of sculpting medium, but they hadn’t forgotten how to memorize every detail of a subject. Not by a fucking long shot.
    As sweat poured down his body in a cathartic release, he tried to determine the exact moment it ceased to be a lesson and turned into something that was more about passion than anything else. Hell, if he was being honest with himself, it was probably from the moment he stepped in the room to see her in that sexy one-piece, eyes closed, and waiting on him.
    She’d never been one to accentuate her body like other girls. She’d been more of a bookworm and seemed content to stand in the shadows of those who preferred the spotlight, like her brother. Growing up, she’d been like Reid’s younger sister, too, considering how much time he spent at the Maris residence.
    So why the hell did brotherly love suddenly feel a lot more like a lover’s lust? Shit! He had to figure out what to do about these