TESSA

I cried. Okay, I’ll admit it; I bawled as Charlie drove away with his grandparents to go to Legoland.

The look on his face melted my heart, and when he grabbed my leg, hugging me so tightly, thanking me for letting him go, I thought I’d be okay. But I wasn’t.

I stood on the sidewalk and watched the car drive down the road. I didn’t go inside until I couldn’t see them anymore.

When there’s a knock at the door an hour later, everything snaps back into place.

Tahoe.

Bryce.

Oh my goodness, I probably look like an absolute mess.

“You look like an absolute mess,” Abby says as I open my door, swinging a shopping bag in her hand as she waltzes into my apartment.

“Hello to you, too.” I close the door and walk over to the kitchen table where she places the bag. I motion toward that. “Whatcha got there?”

“Tahoe supplies!” she says with a devilish grin.

I raise a brow. “What kind of supplies?”

With waggling eyebrows, Abby opens the white paper shopping bag and pulls out a lump of tissue paper.

Hesitantly, I take the bundle from her and open it.

Oh, dear heavens, what has she done?

I unwrap the tissue paper to pull on the string of a silk lavender nightie with lace trim and a slit on the side. It’s sexy yet elegant and way more than I was prepared to bring with me on my weekend away with Bryce.

“What is this?” I ask.

“It’s a burka,” she answers sarcastically.

With a sideways glance, I ask, “I mean, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“I believe what you mean to say is, Thank you, Abby, for this beautiful piece of lingerie that I can bring on my romantic weekend away with the man of my dreams!” Her hands are now curled under her chin as she bats her eyelashes.

I take a piece of tissue paper, crumple it up, and throw it at her. “What makes you assume I don’t have something sexy packed in my bag already?”

She catches the paper in the air. “Do you?” she challenges, throwing it back at me.

The paper hits me in the forehead. “Well, not like that, but I did pack my Victoria’s Secret pajamas.”

“They’re long-sleeved and knit, and they look like Hugh Hefner’s pajamas.”

“I like my Hugh Hefner jammies,” I defend.

“They’re adorable. But this”—she points toward the nightie—“is what you wear when a gorgeous millionaire takes you away to his house in the hills.”

My stomach rumbles, and it’s not because I’m hungry. “I’m a nervous wreck. I haven’t dated anyone in years, let alone gone away on a romantic trip. Bryce and I have only kissed. He’s going to expect to … you know …”

“I know,” she says and walks over to my refrigerator where she grabs a bottle of water. She’s twisting the top off as she asks, “What are you so worried about?”

“Everything,” I reply. Putting the nightie on the table, I take a seat and curl my leg up into me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. I’ve had a baby since then. What if things aren’t … the same down there?”

She makes a face. “I can’t help you with that, but I can tell you that nothing has changed since you were eighteen. Men still want sex, and they pretty much don’t care what position or who goes down on who first.”

“That’s comforting.” I roll my eyes.

I lay my hand on the nightie again. It’s so smooth; I imagine what it will feel like on my skin. What Bryce’s hands running up against it will feel like, that warm flesh pushing into the silky material.

And, now, I’m warm.

Abby takes a seat across the table and lays an arm on it, outstretched toward me. “This is a big step for you. We’ve only been friends for a few months, and I know you don’t open your heart up easily.”

“I’m still having a hard time not picturing him with Christine.”

“Do you believe him when he tells his version of what happened?”

Bryce has explained it on more than one occasion that, while Christine came on to him and he was very tempted, he stopped the act before anything really happened. Just the notion of it makes my head spin. But I can’t change the past. Lord knows there are other women he’s been with that I don’t know about. What I do know is that he has gone above and beyond to prove himself to me. The time we’ve spent together has been special.

“I do.” I nod my head.

Abby smiles. Her head of brown curls bobbing as she gets up and walks to the bag. “My only advice is to just have fun.”

She holds the bag out to me, and I rise, too, to look inside. There are more things in there. I start pulling them out—a new razor, shaving cream, a body exfoliator, oil, lotion, paraffin for my feet, and a bath bomb.

“I’m gonna have the softest skin on the West Coast.” I beam.

“Again, I believe the words you meant to say are, Thank you, Abby, for getting me everything I need to be primed and ready should I decide to go to bed with a man for the first time in six years.”

I can’t contain my grin as I say, “Thank you, Abby.”

When she leaves, I take all of my new products and head into my bathroom to prepare for four days away with Bryce.

I start by painting my toenails while the callus treatment is on my feet. I didn’t ask why this was important. Maybe Abby has a foot fetish I didn’t know about. Maybe Bryce does.

Oh dear …

I wash my face with my favorite cream-based cleanser and apply a cold gel facial mask to reduce the puffiness from my earlier tears. When my bath is filled, I drop in the bomb and climb in. The tub is pretty shallow, so my knees stick up, but the water is extra hot to calm my nerves. I exfoliate, shave, and hop out of the tub to oil down my body, making sure not to slip on the tiles while I exit.

My makeup is natural-looking. It’s funny how much makeup I apply to make it look like I’m not wearing any at all. I brush on lip gloss and spray a subtle perfume. After I blow out my hair, I slide on a matching bra and panty set under my skinny jeans and a floral top.

I’m brushing out my hair when there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll be right there,” I call out as I walk out of the bathroom, quickly giving myself a once-over in the hallway closet mirror before opening the front door.

All those nerves that simmered away during the hot bath boil back up.

In front of me stands the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, holding one single rose.

Almost every time I’ve seen Bryce, he’s been in his suit or some variation with his dress shirt, but it’s when he’s casual is when I find him the most attractive.

He’s wearing dark designer jeans with a slim-fitting polo shirt that hugs his chest and arms in all the right places, and dark sunglasses hang from the top button of his shirt making him look his age. If I didn’t know him better, I would say before me stands a thirty-year-old man who is still finding his way in life, not the media mogul he is.

Bryce the business man, or Bryce the laid-back guy? I’m torn by what I find sexier.

I drop my hands to my sides, speechless for the first time ever.

“How many times have you cried today?” he asks.

“You mean before or after he left?”

“I bet you cry every time he leaves with his grandparents.” He takes a step forward and places a soft kiss on my cheek. “Because you’re a great mom, and Charlie is your life.”

The way he says it melts my heart. Charlie is my life, and knowing that he not only knows that, but also understands it means the world to me.

“You’re good,” I say with a pointed finger, reminiscent of the first time we met. “I bet you know how to swoon all the girls with your magic words.”

His hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me in and whispers into my ear, “There’s only one woman I want, and she’s all mine for the next four days.”

He kisses my neck and then my clavicle, making me shiver from my breasts down to my core.

I take the rose from him. “Come in. I’m almost ready.”

When I see his eyes roam my kitchen table and land right on the silky lavender nightie, I lean over, quickly grab it, and scuttle down the hallway.

After I’m behind the open door of my closet and out of eyeshot of Bryce, I gently fold it and place it inside my bag.

This just might come in handy.

As we drive alongside the lake, we pass the gorgeous homes that sit on the water, each one more magnificent than the other with their peaked roofs and luxury log-cabin designs. Having never been to Bryce’s home or office—heck, the only place we’ve ever been out together is Starbucks and a Boy Scouts meeting—we’re never alone. I have no idea what to expect. What I can tell you is, I was not expecting the place we’ve just parked in front of.

Tucked up a long road with houses on either side sits a small home with horizontal wood paneling and an oversize stone ledge along the base. There’s no fancy gate or exquisite entryway. The front windows are narrow in size, similar to that of older homes. The two-car garage door lifts open, and Bryce pulls his Tesla in alongside a snow blower. The right side of the garage is lined with sleds that are hanging from hooks in the Sheetrock.

Bryce turns off the car and glances at me. “We can put our things away and maybe go grab a bite to eat.”

The way he’s being so nonchalant about me being here, or the fact that I don’t know what our sleeping arrangements will be, does nothing to calm my nerves.

“Okay,” I say with a shy smile. I step out of the car and meet Bryce at the trunk. I lean in to grab my bag.

“Here, let me,” Bryce says, reaching for it and then his before shutting the trunk. “Ladies first.” He motions for me to walk ahead of him.

We get to the door leading into the house, and he leans in front of me, opening it and pushing it forward for me to enter.

While the home is old, it has clearly been remodeled. The floor is a shiny oak, and the kitchen features are modern with oak cabinetry and black granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. The low ceilings are lined with beams, making it feel even smaller, but the recessed lighting provides so much light that it feels big at the same time. While many of the finishes are new, I can still feel the old soul of the home echoing from the foundation.

My eyes wander to the walls where family photos line the hallways, shelves and mantel. There are many in black-and-white, old prints of family long gone. Others have that muted coloring that was standard from Kodak disposable cameras of the eighties and nineties. One in particular catches my eye, and when I get closer, a smile graces my face.

The photo is of three little boys wrapped in their mother’s arms at a beach. The oldest has thick, dark hair and matching eyes. He’s sitting up straight and looking back at the camera with a closed-mouth grin and crossed arms. The middle boy is making a silly face. His hair is flopping in front of his face, covering one of his blue eyes. The youngest is a fair-haired toddler tucked into his mother’s side. The woman has blonde hair and a joyous smile, probably having one of the best days of her life.

His mom looks so proud of her boys. I can’t help the slight giggle that escapes my lips at the three boys who obviously want the picture taken quickly, so they can get back to building their half-finished sand castle.

I’ve had those exact moments with Charlie where he’s so intent on finishing his project, but all I want is to take a photo to capture the moment.

Bryce walks up behind me, sending tingles through my body at his close proximity. I can see his reflection in the glass of the picture frame. He’s obviously the older boy in the picture, minus the tiny freckles that were once on his nose.

He reaches for the photo and holds it up to examine it closer. I turn to see the smile on his face and have to pause. He looks so at peace, more so than I’ve ever seen him.

“This was taken on our first trip after we bought this place. Mom was so happy to finally have a place in Tahoe. She said it was always her dream. I guess I didn’t understand just how cool it was at the time. We just wanted to play in the sand.” He laughs. “That was before things expanded, and she only had the magazine.”

“This same place?” I ask.

He looks around and nods. “It’s been in the family since I was ten. Dad wanted to sell it after she passed, so I bought it from him. I’ve only been here once though. The neighbors have been taking care of it. It’s kind of silly, letting it just sit here, but I couldn’t handle the thought of getting rid of it. It was Mom’s favorite place.”

My eyes meet his, and something in me shifts as I look at the tired expression around his eyes. There’s no phone in his hand right now, and his shoulders are visibly relaxed. His breathing is deep, and his lips are slightly parted.

We’ve only been here a few minutes, and I can already see the change in him. It’s a look I’ve seen when he’s sitting on my couch, watching television with Charlie, or at my sink, washing dishes. If I blink, it will pass, and the straight facade that he keeps will be put back in its place. But, if I pay close attention, I will see the side of Bryce that is only visible if I’m truly looking.

Contentment.

Bryce is beautifully content in this moment.

The fact that he is staring at me while being in this complete state of Zen is something that both excites and terrifies me at the same time.

I look to the back of the room and notice the sliding glass door leading to an outdoor area that’s set up with a firepit and chairs. The idea of sitting around, doing nothing and having no worries of dinner or bedtime, sounds like the perfect night.

“Are you hungry now, or would you like to put your stuff away first?” he asks.

“Is there any way we can order in? I see a lounge chair outside that’s calling my name,” I say, nodding my head to backyard.

He lets out a breath; his grin is so sincere, so perfect. “Yeah, we can do that.” He leans in and kisses my forehead, holding me closely with his arms before walking away and reaching for his phone. “What sounds good?”

“What can be delivered?”

He laughs. “No clue. Pizza?” He shrugs. “Isn’t that something that can always be delivered?”

I chuckle. “Then, pizza it is.”

He types away on his phone, looking for the right place to order from.

I spent so much time pushing this man away, yet I’ve never felt more comfortable being alone with someone. We are so different yet so alike. We both know what it’s like to lose our dreams but know that what we’re doing now is even more important, and we both lead these crazy, hectic lives, just in different ways.

Where my life is insane with little-boy tantrums, cooking dinner, and making sure I have enough money to pay rent, his life is full of business meetings, stressful deals, and making deadlines.

One thing is the same though; we’re both exhausted. Exhausted from life. Exhausted from having to be an adult. Maybe Abby is right. Tonight, I want to just be. Be the girl who’s falling for a really sexy guy and enjoy the picturesque scenery surrounding us with no thoughts, no stresses, just us.

“I’m going to go change,” I whisper as he places the call.

I grab my bag and open a door off the living room. When I see it’s a coat closet, I spin around and look at Bryce, who is nodding toward the kitchen.

The smile he gives me as he tells the man on the phone what he wants while simultaneously finding comedy in my near miss sends chills up my spine. He’s so handsome. When he smiles like that, it’s so damn sexy, and he doesn’t even try. Just a simple nod makes my heart pitter-patter.

On the other side of the kitchen is a small hallway that leads to a bedroom. The room has a queen-size bed with a massive wood headboard. I lift my small suitcase onto the bed, which is the highest bed I’ve ever seen, and unzip it, flipping open the top, searching for my pajamas—yes, the Hugh Hefner kind. As I take off my top, I toy with the idea of removing my bra but decide against it. I don’t want to come off too strong—at least, not yet.

When I slide my feet into my slippers, I head back to where Bryce is standing in the kitchen, opening a bottle of wine. As he pops open the top, his eyes roam me up and down, and a small smile grows on his face.

“I hope this is okay,” I say, looking down at my outfit, not sure if I made the right choice. “I just …” I pause to look outside. “Doing nothing in my comfys sounds like the perfect night.”

“Your comfys?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. “My jammies.”

“Jammies,” he says with a smile as he pulls out the cork.

I ignore his humor at my words. “You can put yours on, too. Get cozy.”

He grabs a glass and pours. “What if I told you I slept in the nude?”

My cheeks heat up, and I haven’t even started on the wine yet.

Bryce lets out a deep chuckle as he hands me my glass. “Go ahead and step outside. I’ll change and join you in just a second.” He walks into the living room to grab his bag and into a bedroom on the other side of the house.

I don’t know if I should be relieved or concerned that he’s given us separate bedrooms. My mother says a man shouldn’t expect sex just because he’s bought a woman a meal. The thought that there are no presumptions is kinda sexy.

I take my glass and head out the back door. As I step outside, I stop and inhale a deep breath. The air is cleaner than I’ve ever experienced. Nothing but pine trees, forest, and earth meet my senses. The air in San Francisco is anything but this. This is pure, clean oxygen.

The tall trees that surround his property seem to be endless behind us as the landscape climbs up a steep hill. The late summer sunset casts a red-and-orange hue in the sky. I don’t hear cars, sirens, or even people. Everything is still, except this whistling up high. I look up and see nothing that sound could be coming from.

Bryce slides the door open, and when I turn around, the vision of a gorgeous man dressed in a plain white tee with plaid pajama pants makes me happier than I ever imagined seeing him would.

This is Bryce. Not the media mogul. Not the man who feels like he has the world on his shoulders.

That look of content is still on his face. I bet it matches my own.

He sets his glass down on the table and takes mine, also setting it down on the table. He sidles up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, tightly holding me. I drop my head to his chest, letting him caress me in his arms as we stand in silence.

I can feel his breath rise up through his chest as he slowly releases more than just the air from his lungs. As every second passes, his grip on me gets more relaxed and his body less rigid.

“I forgot how much I loved it back here,” he says barely above a whisper so as not to ruin the quietness surrounding us.

“It’s breathtaking. Definitely not something I’ve ever seen in the city or Berkeley. What’s that slight whistling sound?”

He points up at the sky. “It’s the wind running through the tops of the trees.”

I look up in awe. “Wow. That’s beautiful. So peaceful.”

“My mom used to call it nature’s music.”

I lean my head back against his chest again, gripping his arms around me tighter. “I love that.”

The sun falls behind the mountains, painting the most amazing hues of blue, pink, and purple across the sky. “I could get used to this,” I sigh, nestling into him more.

“The scenery or me?” he asks, softly kissing my cheek.

“Both,” I say, turning my head to see him.

His lips lightly brush against mine, holding them there for a breath as I melt into him.

“Here, let’s sit and relax a bit,” he says, motioning toward the lounge chairs.

I reach for my glass and sit on the corner. To my dismay, Bryce sits on the opposite edge, but before I can say anything, he reaches for my legs, propping them on his knees, and starts to rub my feet.

“Now, you’re just spoiling me,” I tease.

“Maybe you deserve to be taken care of for once. This time here is for you. I have no idea how you do it. I was exhausted after a few hours of Boy Scouts, yet you do that every day.”

I shrug, trying to blow off how hard parenting really is. “You just get used to it, I guess. I should check on him.”

“You called him twice on the ride here. Give the Mason’s a chance. You said they’re good with him. Try to relax and enjoy the time with me.”

Not worrying about Charlie is a foreign concept to me. “That’s a bit hypocritical considering how much I know you’re dying to call the office right now.”

He groans. “I’m wary about leaving Austin in charge. I planned on working tonight to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Give him space. Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

He grins with a shrug as he concedes. “Deal. We both agree to live in a bubble and let the world exist without us.”

Now it’s my turn to groan. “Let’s just hope it’s still turning when we return.”

He laughs. “Charlie’s going to be fine. He’s having a blast, unless there’s a side to him I haven’t seen. Is he secretly a spoiled, trantrum-throwing little boy?”

“You’ve pretty much seen what there is to know. He’s an active, lively, silly, amazing little boy.” I smile as the image of his face flashes through my mind. “I love him more than anything. Our life isn’t the easiest, but he makes it all worth it.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Tell me about you.”

“Without a Truth or Dare question attached?” I tease, making him laugh out loud.

“No Truth or Dare question. Tell me something no one else knows about you.”

My life isn’t an open book. Not that I’m hiding anything. I just don’t have many people in my life to talk to. Abby has been a great friend, and my mom is my closest confidant. Still, there are some things I don’t talk to her about.

“I found my birth father two years ago.”

“Wow. That must have been a difficult decision to make.”

I sigh, looking down to the ground. It was something I had been thinking about doing most of my life. “He was a sperm donor, so I didn’t have any feelings of neglect, and I wasn’t looking for comfort from abandonment. One day, I was thinking about Charlie and Ashton, and I wondered if it was better to know that I didn’t have a dad at all or to be in Charlie’s shoes and at least know who he was.”

“Was it hard to find him? I thought that was all confidential.”

“It used to be, but I read about people who had found their donor fathers through those DNA tests everyone’s doing now. I did it, and—surprise—it turns out, he had, too. They have services that hook people up through adoption processes, and they do for donors. I put it out there that I’d like to meet him and gave the service my number. Within a few months, he called.”

His eyes open wide. “That must have been wild to have him call like that.”

“It was.” I laugh lightly. “We spoke for about a half hour. He told me he had three kids of his own. The oldest being seven years younger than me. I didn’t really want to know how many other kids he had. I’m not sure how I feel about having siblings. He was really nice and offered to meet.”

“Did you?”

I shake my head. “I decided against it. My mom’s done so much for me. I don’t need to have that other side in my life. It’s not like he’s my real father. He doesn’t know my mom; he’s never even seen her. He didn’t walk out on us or give me up for adoption. He was a student, trying to make it through college, and they paid for him to donate. He did a favor to my mom, and I’m forever grateful. I think it’s best to leave it at that.”

“That’s very mature of you.”

I lift my glass and take a sip of my wine, thinking back to that day when I thought I’d made up my mind. Funny how I haven’t really thought about that moment until now.

“So, what about you? Tell me something no one else knows about you.”

There’s a small pause as he places my feet back on the ground and pulls me tighter to him. The trees begin to whistle again.

“I looked into adopting a child,” he says, surprising the hell out of me.

“You what?” I ask, shocked.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I know. It’s ridiculous. The idea was weighing on me, and I started doing research, but I realized I was in way over my head and tried to forget about it.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Right after I turned thirty. My parents were thirty when I was born, so I started to think about how my life had turned out. There were a lot of what-ifs.”

“What-ifs?”

“What if my mom hadn’t died? What if I hadn’t become the head of a company at twenty-two years old? What if my father hadn’t married Missy? What if Austin wasn’t always running from his responsibilities? Am I where I thought I’d be at thirty?”

“Where’s that?”

“Married. Kids. Traveling. Definitely those three things. You know, I always thought I’d be the kinda guy with an RV, and I’d drive all over the country with my family, showing them places like Mount Rushmore or going fly fishing in Montana or visiting a dude ranch in Wyoming.”

My head tilts to the side as I glance in his direction. He’s staring out in the distance with a crooked smile and a glazed look in his eyes.

“You really want kids?” I ask softly.

His hand reaches down to gently touch my chin. “I do. Spending that day with Charlie, making the vegetable car, was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

“Then, why didn’t you research it more?”

“Mainly because of my life and work schedule, but also because I wouldn’t want to raise a child without a woman by my side. My mom was amazing. She was everything to me. I wouldn’t want to deprive a child from that experience.”

“So, what now?”

His fingers intertwine with mine, pulling me into him. “For now, I live my life as God intended and hope there’s a reason he changed the course of my life … of our lives.”

Our eyes meet, and we stay here, unsure of where this is going or how we’ll make it work, but also neither of us seems scared enough to stop it.

My eyes roam from his to his lips and back up again. How in the world did I find a man like Bryce? I never thought there would be a man who could light my soul on fire and want to be a part of Charlie’s life as well.

My last bit of resolve snaps, and I’m ready to dive in. Ready for whatever this man brings me. But, most of all, I’m ready for him.

His hand moves up to cup my face, his gaze so soft while looking into my eyes. I know he feels it, too.

This is real.

We are real.

The doorbell rings, and I jump, breaking our trance of each other.

“I’ll be right back,” Bryce whispers before getting up and heading toward the house.

My head drops back as I close my eyes, inhaling deeply.

Bryce.

On the outside, he has this hardened exterior, but on the inside, he’s an explorer, a dreamer, a lover, and someone who just wants to experience the normalcy of life.

And so do I.

I’ve lived such a sheltered life since Charlie was born. I haven’t even thought about a man or what it would be like to feel a man’s touch in years.

Even when I was with Ashton, it was quick, rushed, more about him getting off than me. I know it will be different with Bryce, and I’m more than ready to start this next chapter of my life.

With him.

When he comes back, holding the pizza in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, I stand and walk toward him with determined steps.

I know exactly what I want.

He places the items down and starts to turn back toward the house when I lay my hand on his arm. He turns toward me, and his eyes darken when he sees the look I am giving him.

My skin is flush. There’s a rush of adrenaline and need pouring through my veins. My chest rises with a shaky breath that only comes when you’re out of your mind in lust for the man standing right in front of you. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, and right now, I really don’t care.

I run my hand up his chest and hear the small groan release from his lips. Our eyes lock, and I say all I can as I let my palm travel down his muscular chest, over the peaks of his ribs, and down his taut stomach to rest just about his hip bone. His lips part as my fingers brush the top of his pajama pants.

I want Bryce. I want him to take me, to show me what it’s like to be loved by a man.

A real man.

A man who only knows the truth in a world full of dares.

His knuckle rises to graze my cheek. I fall into his touch, closing my eyes and feeling as it skims down my chin before his thumb traces my lips.

“I really want this,” Bryce whispers. “I want it so fucking bad, it hurts.”

My eyes flutter open. “I do, too.”

Instantly, his lips crash into mine as his arms wrap around my body, lifting me off the ground.

When his mouth opens, my heart melts, and tingles spread all the way to my toes. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer into me as I sweep my tongue against his.

Absolutely lost to the sensation that is Bryce Sexton, I barely notice when he starts to move, carrying me back into the house and toward the bedroom.

My heart races a mile a minute—not out of fear, but anticipation.

He slowly lowers us to the bed, lifting slightly just to look at me. His hand moves my hair out of the way before he leans down, bringing his lips to meet with mine again.

I feel his fingers run down my neck to my shoulder and then down my arm until they meet the bottom of my shirt. Teasing, he flips around the hem until I feel the warmth of his hand against my bare skin.

The way he takes his time, slowly caressing my body, his large hand gripping my waist from front to back, builds so much excitement within me.

When a low growl releases from his mouth, I drop my head back in ecstasy. I’ve never felt so sexy, so much like a woman in my life.

Needing to feel more of him, I reach around and tug on his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. He releases our kiss just long enough to remove his clothing, and—holy shit—I get the first full look of Bryce’s chest.

I’ve seen guys in pictures, men who have hair on their chests or six-pack stomachs, but none of them compare to seeing Bryce standing in front of me in the flesh.

Ashton was a boy, nothing but scrawny arms and white skin. Bryce is all man. His shoulders are wide, and the way he’s holding himself up, naturally flexing his muscles, would bring me to my knees if I wasn’t already lying down.

The small bit of chest hair that lines his pecs is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Until I see the look in his eyes.

While I was ogling his body, he was staring down at me. Waiting for my approval. Waiting for me to get my fill, and my God, I have.

He slowly lifts my shirt, pulling it over my head, revealing the black lace bra I have on underneath.

When his lips meet with my neck and his hand grips my breast, my back arches off the bed, and a moan escapes my lips. Bryce has barely touched me, yet I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

I feel needy. I feel greedy. I already want more of him. I don’t want this to stop.

Ever.

When we’re done and we both get our fill, I want to start all over again. I want to be brought right back to this feeling over and over again.

I never knew intimacy could feel like this. So helpless yet totally in control. So absolutely enthralled in another human being, like you can’t get enough of them yet they are right there with you, every part of their body touching you, yet you need more.

So much more.

When he pulls my bra down, making my breasts pop out, before running his tongue over one nipple, I swear, a zing runs through my body, and I gasp at the feeling. The feeling of him and knowing this is only the beginning. I’m not sure if I can handle what he can do to me. What my body is yearning for so much.

I run my hands through his hair, pulling tightly as my back arches again. “Bryce,” I whisper through my teeth.

“Fuck. That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I need you, Tessa. More than you’ll ever know.”

His hips roll into mine, and my greediness turns into pure torture.

When I reach my hand down to grip him through his pajama pants, a low moan escapes my lips, and tingles surround my clit.

I’ve never needed anything in my life as badly as I need him inside me, showing me what it’s like to truly be with the man you’re meant to be with.

His fingers dip below my waistband, and I swear, the tingling I was feeling before is nothing compared to the throbbing my clit is doing now. He roams his way over my body, on top of my panties, making the sensation even worse.

I need pressure.

I need girth.

I need him.

When he finally makes his way inside my panties, I swear, the earth stands still with just one flick of his finger against me. Jolts of pleasure rip through me as a scream escapes my lips.

His mouth crashes against mine, capturing every moan, every scream, every breath, while his fingers work me up in a frenzy. When he slips one finger inside me, I explode around him.

My legs tighten, my breath hitches, and my entire body goes rigid as waves ignite up my body, through my chest, and out to my fingertips.

I never knew what it felt like to have someone else give you an orgasm, and my mind goes blank as the waves of serenity roll through me.

“God, Tessa. Your pussy just squeezed my finger so tight; I thought it would cut off the circulation. Please tell me you can handle more. I’m not sure I can live without being inside you right now.”

When my brain comes to, my eyes open, staring at the man in front of me in absolute awe. I run my hands up his arms to his shoulders and cup his face. “I want this, Bryce. Please. Please don’t stop now.”

“Thank God.”

His lips crash into mine again, working their way down my neck and to my chest where he fully removes my bra, kissing each nipple as they appear before moving down my stomach and sliding off the remainder of my clothes, leaving me completely naked and absolutely soaked.

He lifts himself from the bed for a brief moment, reaching into his suitcase for a condom and then removing his pajama pants and boxers.

My heart races at the sight of his enormous cock on full display. My body’s still a tingly mess from my first orgasm, but seeing him in all his glory lights that fire within me again.

I’m dying to know what he feels like. What being stretched to the nines by his cock will do to my body.

A low ache builds once more, and the greediness comes back in. I want him inside me, and I want it now.

His eyes meet mine as he slides on the condom. I lick my lips, and the smirk he gives me in return is all I need to drive me wild.

As he lowers himself on top of me, my heart pounds, and my eyes close. Every sensation is so overwhelming, but when he slides inside me for the first time, I’m done for.

A moan works its way out, the deepest I’ve ever heard be released from my body, as I spread my legs more, needing him to fill me as much as possible.

His hands find mine, intertwining my fingers, and he pulls on them when he pushes further.

“Fuck me, Tessa. My God. Your body feels … I …”

His manly growl tickles my ear. I tightly wrap my legs around him, bringing him in the rest of the way and relishing in the full feeling running through my body, deep inside.

“Bryce,” I barely get out as he moves out and then back in.

My head drops, and my eyes roll back in my head. Sensations I’ve never felt race through me. Every inch, every centimeter of my body is lit on fire by this man, as if I were fireworks burning their way down the wick before they exploded.

All by his doing.

“Yes,” I scream as he starts to thrust his way inside me.

My fingers run down his back, grabbing his ass and squeezing tightly, needing something to help relieve the build of pressure igniting inside me again.

I never want this to stop. It can’t. I want him to fuck me again and again if this is the feeling I’ll get every time.

The way his body slides in and out of mine drives me wild. Just those mere inches leave me dying for more as he pulls out, but when he slides back in, I feel like I’m going to die from ecstasy with every thrust.

More and more, my temperature rises. My body tingles, and my limbs start to shake when I hold on to him for what feels like dear life.

“Oh God, Tessa. Yes, give it to me,” he whispers into my ear.

And I do.

I explode yet again, clenching on his cock in waves I didn’t even know were possible. The groan that releases from his mouth as he grips my entire body, squeezing me just as hard, does me in.