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way with every exposed inch of her delicate
skin.
    “Fuck.”
    “Drew?” She tugged gently on his hair.
    Pushing the vision firmly down the basement stairs of his
mind, closing and padlocking the door, Drew inhaled and let the sweet, tangy
scent of Eva’s arousal spur him forward. He stood up and kissed her. Hard,
unequivocal. His teeth grazed her lips and he tried to pull himself back, pace
himself. But she groaned and leaned in for more.
    Drew traced his hands down her slender back, taking a moment
to marvel at her silky texture before finding and unhooking the clasp to her
bra. It was blue, it matched the interesting panties, it was on the floor with
the rest of her clothes and his shirt.
    “Two years, really?” He skimmed his hands over her rib cage,
brushing his thumbs along the edges of her small breasts and enjoying the
tickle of her firmly pebbled nipples across his chest.
    When he was standing and Eva was barefoot, he was just tall
enough that she couldn’t kiss him unless he bent down. She tried, much to
Drew’s delight, stretching up on her toes. He bypassed her mouth and went for
her neck instead, and as he worried at the muscle below her ear, he finally
gave into temptation and curled one hand over her breast. Her nipple hardened
against his palm, and Drew reveled in the sigh that followed his fingers over
the sensitive pink and white contours.
    He still had jeans on, and they felt increasingly
restrictive. Drew’s fingers met Eva’s over the zipper and they shared an awkward
laugh. She looked chagrined, like a kid caught reaching for a forbidden cookie.
Drew had to remind himself to keep his hands moving, to get the offending pants
off. Only after he slid them down did he consider he might have kept his boxers
on.
    Too late, though, and they were both completely naked, which
reduced his brain to little more than a placeholder in his skull.
    “We should get under the covers, it’s freezing,” Eva said
before he could reach for her. Drew followed her down the narrow hallway,
delighted by the view.
    Her bedroom was furnished in a cozy, traditional style with
a four-poster bed and a quilt that looked antique. It surprised him. He’d
expected sleek and modern, minimalist, like an art gallery. This, while not
fussy, was decidedly old-fashioned, though the dark taupe paint and the few
knickknacks scattered about made the room look more eclectic and artsy than it
might have.
    She was turning the covers down as neatly as she might for
sleep, and Drew recognized the tension that had returned to her shoulders. Her
narrow back was straight and stiff and turned directly his way.
    “Two years is a long time. You nervous?” He stepped behind
her and slipped his arms around her waist. So tempting to let his hands roam.
He resisted as much as possible and was rewarded by the simple trust evident in
Eva’s touch when she wrapped her hands over his forearms and pressed him
closer.
    “A little. I think I’m making decisions because I’m horny.
Those are not usually the best decisions.”
    Drew laughed and squeezed tighter, feeling every millimeter
of contact between his skin and hers as a delicious, warm promise of things to
come. “I’ll do my best to keep you from regretting it.”
    His approach was more measured now than it had been in the
living room. He wanted her anxiety gone, her senses engaged. He wanted to make
her smile. So he mapped out a course with his hands, tracking every dip and
rise he planned to cover later with his mouth. His fingers circled the spots
his tongue would linger in the longest. When Eva arched into the gentle
exploration, lifting her hands behind her to rest at his neck, Drew felt a
sense of achievement he knew he really hadn’t earned yet.
    But it was still so sweet, such a triumph, having this
particular girl in his arms after all that unprecedented effort. And if he
wanted her in more than his arms, wanted her knotted in place in his home with
a rope she could never hope to