COHEN

“Wow!” Annie pauses in the living room entrance. One glance at the image on the television and she winks at me. “A fire? You didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t have real candles,” I say, busy placing forks and spoons next to our feast. “So hopefully this will do the trick for...” I look up at her, losing my place mid-sentence. “Annie. You are stunning.”

She’s beautiful, too beautiful for words. Her brunette hair trails in loose, damp waves over her bare shoulders, her feet moving soundlessly across the carpet as she steps toward me.

She’s once again wrapped in my robe, and the way it’s draped in loose folds allows a generous view of her pale skin. Her cheeks, pink and rosy from the shower, glow under the flickers from the screen.

She laughs, a light, tinkling sound. “But I haven’t put on any makeup. Or fixed my hair. Or anything.”

“You look incredible.” I realize that I’ve stopped mid-table-setting, and a napkin dangles from my finger. I tuck it unceremoniously under the plate. “I can’t even... I don’t know what to say.”

I take quick steps across the room, one of my hands sneaking between the folds of the robe and coming to rest on the lower curve of her back. She smells just as good as she looks, warm and sensual and feminine, and I want more than anything to taste her mouth on mine.

“Wait, Cohen,” she says, as my other hand comes to rest on her cheek. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t really need to shower.”

I blink, not expecting that one. “Okay.”

“It’s just—”

“You can stop right there. I know what’s got you worried.” I let my lips dust a kiss against her forehead. “Us being together doesn’t change anything. Come to me when you’re ready.”

“I need to explain why.”

“No, you don’t owe me any explanation.”

“I stayed with him because it was easy,” she says, her lip quivering as she speaks. “My ex was the first boy, the first man, I’d ever been with, and I thought it meant that we were soul mates. It’s stupid now, in retrospect—”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. You thought you were in love.”

“No, I knew he didn’t love me. I just thought...” She blinks, tears frosting her eyes with a sparkle of sadness. “I thought that having sex with him would make him want me. Love me. I don’t know, I was young and stupid, and maybe I still am, but... I just don’t want that to happen with us. I don’t want to ruin things.”

“Me neither. Give yourself a break, Annie. We’ve only been dating three hours. I can have some patience.”

“You’re not upset that I don’t want to have sex yet?”

“No, but I am hungry.”

“Let’s eat,” she says on a light laugh. “But first things first.”

I’m about to argue because really—I’m frigging starving. Tonight, I’ve played a hockey game, acquired a girlfriend, and had a raging case of lust that’s not going away anytime soon. I need to stress eat some damn Kung Pao Chicken.

Then Annie drops the robe, folds of fabric bunching around her feet. She’s a goddess standing there, perfect in her near-nakedness. Her face beams innocence, the rawness of her nerves fully exposed as she watches me, steps toward me in a lacy thing that hugs her gorgeous curves.

I can’t do a thing except hold my breath.

“Now that we’re dating, I can touch you whenever I want. Isn’t that the deal?”

“Yes, but—”

“Good,” she interrupts. “Because tonight is all about you. And I plan on making good on that promise. Returning the favor a little after last time.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m not keeping score, and even if I were—believe me, I had as much fun the other night as you did, if not more.”

She gives me a patient smile while taking dainty steps across the room. She reaches across the table to grab my hand, and with a gentle touch, pulls me toward the bedroom.

“Annie, you don’t have to—”

“You have been so patient,” she says, giving me a light tap to lay on the bed, “and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

I fall backwards onto my comforter and stare up into the eyes of the most beautiful woman. Her eyes are soft, sweet, yet as her hands reach for my waist and tug down my shorts, a bit of fire dances beneath them.

My fingers lock through her damp hair, slide down her shoulders and caress the impossibly soft skin of her back. The only thing she’s wearing is a thin swatch of lingerie, which means every curve of hers is perfectly defined against my hands.

I get a grip on her waist, my fingers clenching tight as I pull her against me. She grinds her hips hard as her lips crash to mine, and I’m not sure I can last longer than the count of five. If the way she feels against me is any indication, I am completely and utterly lost.

“Thank you for understanding,” she murmurs in a tight voice. “For being patient, for trusting in me, for giving me time.”

I try to gurgle a response, but she’s too quick for me. Her hands press against my chest and she slithers lower, her beautifully soft skin a caress against my body. I grasp for her arms and try to pull her up, but she’s stronger than she looks. She stops, halfway, and meets my gaze.

“Stop,” she says, her voice quiet, yet firm. “Let me.”

“Annie, you don’t have—”

The second her mouth touches my skin, it’s as if I can feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Her lips, her tongue—every stroke is a testament to perfection.

My hands run through her hair, graze her shoulders, but I can’t say manage a word. I can only hold on, my mind a black abyss of pent up desire, infatuation for her. It’s not until the moment she pushes me over the edge that I can finally formulate a word. Annie.

Her name spills from my lips as she catapults me beyond anything I’ve ever known before. I’m convinced my mind has shattered into a million pieces.

Pulling her against me in the aftermath, I savor the moment as our hearts race, her breathing quick as I fight my stunned silence to find words. I can’t, so I squeeze her tighter and hold my lips to her forehead, breathing in the heavenly scent of her.

Thankfully, my senses eventually reset. As my energy returns, I roll her over onto her back in one motion, while simultaneously dusting her collarbone with kisses. If she thinks the night is ending here, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Cohen, tonight is about you,” Annie says, her nails gripping my shoulders with a delicious strength that bites into my skin. “I didn’t expect anything in return. Let me—”

“No,” I say with absolute finality. The smell of her—the shampoo, her lotion, the very essence of Annie—is driving me wild. I brush a hand against her forehead, pushing stray hairs away from her face. “Let me.”