LEXI

“This is ten times better than I imagined.”

I’m alone in the office, or thought I was until the sound of Brad’s voice right next to my ear sends my spine shooting ramrod straight.

“What are you doing in here?” I screech, clutching my hands over my chest. It’s not only a futile action, but it’s silly. I mean, the man has touched my boobs. Modesty is overrated at this point.

“You left the door open!”

“I didn’t know you’d be wandering around!”

“Well, I happened to wander by and liked what I saw.”

Bradley’s eyes darken as he moves close to me, stepping through the door of my office. It’s a tiny space the size of a large walk-in closet, but I don’t spend all that much time in it. There’s an over-sized chair, a couch that I’ve napped on during long shifts, and a wooden desk and computer setup.

It’s cozy, and I have it decorated with pictures of people who’ve stopped into the restaurant while passing through the city. Famous people, infamous people, and regular folks. Barb has her face on the wall, and so does the Italian family that smuggles booze in here with their chess boards.

But Bradley’s not looking at my cozy setup, he’s looking at the lingerie I may have bought specifically for our date. I’ve been holding onto it for weeks now, and by the look in his eyes, the wait has been worth it.

He stares at me through pools of soft chocolate, a shade I’ve never seen on him before. He’s not the goofy kid who grew up next to me, nor is he the man who turned an elevator ride into a sauna with a single steamy kiss. Neither is he the determined businessman who started a gym from the ground up, nor the shy part of Brad who finally asked me on a date.

This Bradley Hamilton is a mix of them all—the old and the new, the timid and the bold. When he steps into the room, his arms reach for me, and I sink into them like I belong.

His fingers trail over my skin and send sensitive tremors rattling through me. He finds the thin patches of fabric on my bra, and the itty bits of lace on the panties that match.

We don’t kiss, don’t speak, just explore. It’s unfair, really, because I’m next to naked, and he’s fully clothed. But the sensations he’s launched are too intense for me to resist, and I let him carry me away.

“Come on,” he says, finally. “I want that dance with you, and if you don’t put some clothes on, it’ll never happen.”

I whimper in dismay, but he’s right. We’ve technically started the date, but we haven’t actually done anything with it. “Brad,” I say, trying for innocent. “Do you remember my rule?”

“Rule?”

“I said we should hold off sleeping together until we were sure this was going to work. And, of course, until we had a date.”

“Right.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“Think?” He blinks. “About which part?”

“Do you think you want to be with me?”

His lips part, and he stares at me with blatant shock. “Are you kidding? I’ve barely slept in weeks trying to get tonight perfect so I wouldn’t blow my chance with you. I will do anything to be with you, Lexi. Anything.”

“Right, so...”

“Do you feel the same?” The shy side of him appears now, a hint of doubt shimmering below the surface. “We don’t have to have sex tonight, Lexi, that was never my intention to rush you into something you’re not ready for.”

“Actually...” I grab his hand and play with the ends of his fingers as I try to find an eloquent way to voice my thoughts. “I was wondering how long into this evening qualifies as us having our date, and then subsequently being done with it.”

“You want to end our date now?”

“No! Well, yes,” I say, and grin, a sudden realization dawning on me. “I want to end this date, Brad because it’s not for us. It’s too formal, and I’ve been nervous all day.”

“Me too.”

“Can we just be us? You and me?”

“We are! It always has been, just you and me.”

“And no more rules about sleeping together,” I offer, though it’s probably too late for that, now. “When the time’s right, the time’s right.”

Bradley’s face turns a little more red, and he rubs a hand across his forehead. “Fantastic.”

“What? Why do you seem disappointed?”

“I’m not disappointed, dammit, I can’t believe you told me that now.”

“What’s the problem with now?”

“You’re still half naked!”

I look down at myself, then look up at him. “You’re clothed. That’s a problem.”

“We really should dance,” he says through gritted teeth. “And eat the food.”

“But...” I eye the couch lovingly.

“Don’t you dare tempt me, sweetheart, or you’ll be on your back before you can say my name.”

“Brad.”

It takes a split second for the challenge to sink in, but when it does, his eyes flash with a radiance I’ve never seen before. The sun, the stars, the depths of him all leaping into action as he scoops me up and together we tumble toward the couch.

He cradles me in his arms, tucking me to his chest as I land on my back, just as he predicted. His fingers smooth my hair as he adjusts over me, his weight the perfect heaviness against me. My hands reach for him, circle his neck as he pulls back ever so slightly. Just enough for him to look, smile, touch.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmurs, his words velvety against my cheek. “I need to have you, Lexi.”

“I know.”

“Not now, later. Now, I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing all these years.”

“What? Bradley! Where are you going?” I stop talking as his hands smooth down my sides, one of them resting on my stomach as he leaves a dusting of kisses over my skin. “Oh, that’s nice.”

He laughs, which has me a little confused. I’m not very good at dirty talking, or talking in bed at all, really, so I can’t tell if he’s laughing at me, or laughing with me.

“What’s so funny?”

“It’s not funny. I’m glad you like it,” he says, then gives me a dark grin. “But it’s cute because I haven’t even gotten started.”

“Oh.”

And then a few minutes later, I realize why that was so funny.

The things that man can do with a brush of his hand, a tilt of his head, a touch of his tongue have my stomach clenching in knots. My own head seems to have thrown itself backwards as my body arches toward him, and I’m gasping for him to slow down.

“I need you,” I tell him. Then, to clarify, I add, “Up here. Come up here and kiss me.”

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He pauses just long enough to watch my expression, a determination on his face that I’ve seen before, during sporting matches and other competitions. “This is all about you.”

“But—”

“Is it working?”

“God, yes,” I whisper. “Please don’t ever stop.”

“That’s music to my ears.” His hand slides up past my hip before he drags his thumb across my stomach.

I watch his face, and it’s like he’s savoring every moment. Every breath, every hitch in my words, every syllable of his name. I’ve never in my life felt so precious and so wanted, and if he wasn’t busy doing fantastic things that I’ve never felt before, I’d hold onto him and never let go.

“Carry on,” I encourage, since he seems to be pausing to watch me. “I mean, if you feel like it.”

“I thought you told me you didn’t like to talk in bed.”

“When did I say that?”

“A long time ago.” He bites down on his lower lip. “I remember things like that.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not in bed.”

“No, we’re not. So tell me, what do you think about this?” He lowers his head and lands a kiss that blanks my mind.

He repeats the question, and I sort of gurgle.

“I take that as a good sign?”

“Yes, please, thank-you,” I pant. “Everything.”

“More?”

“Please stop talking. Either come up here, or—”

He chose the or option, and he chose it so quickly I didn’t even have time to finish my ultimatum. In that moment, my panties vanished, he found my core, and the rest of my thoughts disappeared.

His hands, his tongue. Every stroke and swirl, every lick and touch. My hips rise, his fingers pulse. His hands grip my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he adjusts the angle to one that sends my mind into a freefall.

At this, his name spills from my lips, and I can’t stop the onslaught of pleasure rocking through me. He guides me over the first wave, and then more, and more, and so many more that I’m spent when he finally pulls me into his arms and cradles me on the couch.

I’m hyper-sensitive in the aftermath of that beautiful wonderful magic he worked, and the couch feels suddenly scratchy. My skin burns with pleasure. But Bradley’s body is blissfully soft, and I sink into it as we still, curled on the couch.

“Oh, Brad,” I sigh after a few minutes, swiveling around to face him. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” He moves to rest on his elbow, that gorgeous face staring down at mine. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?”

“No, the opposite!” My finger traces circles against his deliciously firm chest. “But the enjoyment was very one-sided.”

“You didn’t enjoy it?”

“No, I did. I mean I didn’t get to return the favor.”

“I believe I enjoyed it even more than you.”

“Nope.” I shake my head, feeling pretty darn confident in my response. “That can’t possibly be true. I think I might’ve achieved nirvana.”

One of his eyebrows twitches up, a grin dancing on his lips. “In that case, you’ve made me the happiest man alive.”

“Well, you’re easy to please,” I tell him. “Want to do it again?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“I’m joking!”

“I’m not,” he says. “But let’s eat first. I’m starved.”