My skin feels like it’s on fire. Everywhere Garrett has touched me—and that’s just about everywhere—is ready to burst into flames. I’m just as hot as if he hadn’t just made me come a minute ago, harder than I ever have.

I’ve been moping about my ex, but I can’t even remember his name right now. Garrett fills all my senses. Hearing how he moans, the way he moves, the obvious struggle for control as I take him in my mouth over and over—it’s such a turn-on.

“Beck,” he says, his voice guttural. “If you don’t stop—”

“Okay,” I say, and sit up. “I’ll stop.”

His mouth falls open a little.

I grin and shrug a little. “Well, you said.”

He makes a strangled noise that might be a laugh. I can’t be sure.

This is so right. I can’t believe how completely and totally right this is. I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust, but at the same time, this is Garrett, and we can laugh. This—this being with someone who knows every side of me—this is worth getting undressed for.

“Beck—”

“Kiss me,” I say, before he can say anything else. If he says anything, I might chicken out, and I don’t want to. This feels so good right now. I need this.

He sits up and kisses me, pulling me up so I wind up straddling his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist and press myself against him. His cock slides against the hot center of me and I shudder. I want him inside me. I have to have him inside me.

After a moment, Garrett reaches up and brushes my hair back from my face with both hands. “You are so beautiful,” he says quietly. I’m not even sure he realizes he said it.

He takes my face in his hands and kisses me so tenderly, it’s almost like he forgot he was ready to explode twelve seconds ago.

Then he reaches over and grabs the condom. I hear a tear as he opens it, but we keep looking into each other’s eyes in the moonlight. I take the condom and, never taking my eyes off his, reach down to roll it on him.

It slips, and I drop it.

“Oh, shit,” I say. I can feel my face flame up, like someone threw gasoline on me and lit a match.

Real smooth, Beck. You’re so sexy.

There’s a long, breathless moment, and then Garrett bursts out laughing.

“This is funny?” I ask. I can’t decide whether to cry or slap him.

“It’s not,” he gasps, “but it is. It’s fine. Hang on.” He reaches between us—his wrist brushes against me, where I’m throbbing like a heartbeat, and my breath hitches out of me—and comes up with the condom, still tightly rolled.

“Can we still use this?” I ask.

“Nothing happened,” he says. “It just fell on the blanket. We’ll be fine.” He offers it to me.

“Are you serious right now?” I ask. “That is officially no longer my job.”

He laughs again.

“Oh, sure,” I say. “Laugh. I love it when people laugh at me while I’m naked.”

“I’m not laughing at you. I’m….” He pauses. “I’m naked, too. I can’t imagine naked laughing with anyone but you, Beck.”

The look on his face when he says this makes me melt. “I always laugh with you,” I say.

Before I can say anything else, he pulls me to him. Kissing me, fiercely now, he rolls over so that I’m lying back on the bed, and he’s on top of me again.

I like this. He feels good. Sexy, and hot, and safe, all at once.

Garrett’s always made me feel safe. Maybe—yeah, maybe a few times, recently, I’ve wanted him to make me feel … something else. But I’ve always pushed that aside. He’s Garrett. He takes care of me.

He’s certainly taking care of you tonight, a little voice says. I resist the urge to giggle. I can’t, not after I gave him shit for laughing. Besides, I don’t think it’s good form to laugh while someone is kissing the breath out of you.

He cups my breasts in his hands, and my nipples rise and harden. The feeling streaks like a lightning bolt, straight down between my legs, and even though he just made me come—like, what, two minutes ago, plus or minus a minute for the condom caper?—I’m ready to go again.

I want him so badly my body is aching. He runs a hand down between my legs, and I arch up to meet it.

“Beck” —his voice is hoarse— “I can’t wait anymore.”

“Yes,” I say. “Yes, please.”

He rolls the condom on with one hand while the other continues to stroke me, then he settles between my thighs and spreads them open wide.

Slowly, still stroking my clit, Garrett slides himself into me.

It feels … amazing. Amazing, and completely right.

He leans down to kiss me. The feeling of his tongue and his cock inside me, moving the same way, is almost too much. I can feel the desire pooling within me, coiling tighter and tighter at the center.

Jesus! Did he really just move his hips like that? I push against him because Yes. Please. More.

I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. I can feel his muscles moving under my forearms, and against my thighs. His whole body is striving for one goal, and his breathing gets heavier.

“Oh, holy shit,” he pants, increasing his speed.

His thrusts are faster but shallower, and I press up, wanting him to go deep again. That coiling feeling in me gets tighter, bigger. I feel like my head’s going to pop off, like something’s going to explode.

He moves even faster, and I wrap myself around him as much as I can. It’s like I can’t get close enough.

“Baby,” he says, in a tone I’ve never heard from Garrett, ever. “Beck. I’m gonna…. I want you with me.”

“I am with you,” I whisper against his neck.

He doesn’t answer, but turns his head and takes my mouth again. His arms are around me, his weight full on me, his lips devouring mine. The whole world is just the two of us, just him and me, above and under each other, inside and surrounding each other.

Garrett and me.

“Oh, my God,” I say, my voice muffled against his mouth. I’m close, so close.

Then he buries his face against my neck. He makes a noise and thrusts so deep I cry out; as that coiling feeling breaks, as I clamp down around him, I feel him pulsing. This guy and his hips should be registered as a dangerous weapon or something—because I can hear someone wailing wordlessly in ecstasy, and it’s me.

It’s me, and I’m with Garrett, and he’s coming inside me. He’s coming and I’m coming, and we’re together. Like we’ve always been, like we’re meant to be. Together.

He stops and lets his forehead rest against mine again. When our breathing has slowed, he brings up a hand and cradles my face, kissing me as he does so.

“That was…” he says.

“Amazing,” I finish for him.

Slowly, he moves away from me. I like that it feels reluctant. I’m reluctant to let him go. He heads for the bathroom, and then in a few moments, he’s back in the bed.

“Hold me,” I say.

“Yes,” he says, and he draws me into his arms.

I close my eyes, loving the warmth of him, the smell of him, and the beat of his heart close to my ear.