The doors to the elevator in my building slide shut, and I grab my woman.

Clasping her face, I slant my mouth to hers, tasting lemonade, lip gloss, and hunger.

Her tongue slides between my lips, and my brain turns into a pinball machine, whirring and buzzing, noises and sirens and lights flashing. Soon, I’m going to hit the high score on this game. I can feel it in the way my mouth crushes hers, in the way she claims me right back, as if months of pent-up desire have been pulled and stretched into this moment and neither one of us can stop.

I cage her against the wall as the elevator rises in a soft chug, chug, chug.

I kiss her hot and hard and hungry like we did at the reunion, yet it’s a completely different kiss.

Because it’s a powder keg. It’s fueled by the dynamite of the last few months. It’s forged by how much more I’ve wanted to kiss her every single day. That first kiss was a shock-me one. This is a take-me kiss, and I can feel her saying that—take me—in every slide and press of her lips. It’s purposeful and deliberate and so fucking clear this kiss is not ending. It’s a kiss that will go all the way tonight.

We reach my floor and stumble out in a tangle of twined limbs and tousled hair. I slide my key into the lock, and once we’re inside my place, I undo the clip in her hair, letting all those red strands waterfall around my fingers. I swipe my hands through the silky curtain, pulling her hair up, holding it in my grasp. I stare into her eyes, and hers blaze with rampant desire. “I have wanted to fuck you since I met you,” I tell her, and it’s like I just lowered a 250-pound weight. I don’t need to hold that truth inside me any longer. I want her to know this desire has been building for a long time.

She smiles wickedly at me. “You do have a one-track mind.”

“I have many tracks when it comes to you.”

She whispers, “I know.”

“But this track definitely has you naked, legs parted, and calling my name.”

She moans as she drags her fingers along the buttons of my shirt, her touch making my skin sizzle. “I bet your name would feel so good on my lips in that scenario.”

This woman. I’m vibrating with desire for her, for her mouth, her words, her beautiful body.

“And I bet you would taste so good on my mouth,” I say as I let go of her hair so I can run a hand along the fabric of her dress over her thigh.

She gasps then grabs my collar, yanking me closer. But her expression shifts as her eyes drift toward her belly. “Are you sure?” she asks nervously.

“Sweetheart,” I tell her, cupping her cheek, “I’m so fucking sure. Let me show you how sure I am.”

I slide my hands over her breasts, my dick trying valiantly to hammer its way out of my pants, the determined fucker. Groaning hungrily, I cup those glorious beauties then slide my hands down to her stomach because she needs the reassurance and she deserves it.

With my hands splayed over her bump, I look into her eyes. “You have never been hotter. And that’s saying something because you’ve been a complete and absolute goddess since the night I met you.”

Her lips part, and I swear I can feel heat radiating from her. I want to spend the entire night turning her on. Making her feel amazing. Making her come.

Her hand slides between my legs, and she palms my hard-on. I hiss, and it sounds feral. Wanton. I feel that way with her hand on my aching erection.

“It’s hard for me to believe you really want me like this,” she whispers, vulnerability wrapping itself around her words.

I push against her palm. “Does this help you get religion about it?”

She laughs, and I fucking love that she’s laughing with my dick in her hands and that I’m laughing too.

“I believe, I believe,” she says like a churchgoer, squeezing me then letting out a sexy murmur. “And the fact that you do feel that way has me going crazy inside.”

I grab her ass, tug her closer to me. “Let’s go crazy together.”

She nods savagely. Fiercely. I spin her around, her back to my front. I walk her into my bedroom, kissing her neck as I go, feeling her shiver in my arms. “You’re a live wire.”

“Hormones,” she answers, breathlessly.

I go fishing for compliments. “It’s not me?”

She laughs as we reach the doorway, and she spins around and grabs the collar of my shirt. “You plus hormones means it’ll be very easy for me to go off like a rocket.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief.

A groan rumbles up my chest. “Then if it’s so easy, let’s make it a dozen orgasms.”

We reach my bed, neatly made and about to become a playground for all the things I can finally—fucking finally—do to her body.

Her hands slink around my neck, and my bones hum with desire. Every move she makes is seduction, whether she realizes it or not. It’s just who she is to me. My hands find the zipper on the back of her dress, and I slide it down, letting the fabric fall from her shoulders, kissing her skin as I go, heat rising as I savor the softness of her flesh.

I slide down the straps of her dress, so the top falls below her breasts. I unhook her strapless bra easily, and I groan a ridiculously loud noise of approval.

“Sweetheart, you’re so beautiful.” I’m ready to get down on my knees and thank the good Lord. Her tits are glorious, magnificent teardrops with rosy nipples, and they’re so full. My hands dart out of their own volition. The need to touch them is too great. The second I make contact, her eyes flutter closed, her lips fall open, and she whispers my name again, all breathy and hot.

“Told you I was a boobs man.” I kiss her jaw. “Maybe this makes me a pig, but I was checking out your chest even before you were pregnant.”

“Then I guess I’ll let you keep playing with them,” she says, and she’s grinning, and that smile—hell, it makes me happy she gets it. That she understands I’ve always been attracted to her, and the changes in her body don’t repel me—they compel me to get even closer.

Maybe because I feel connected to her, with all that we’ve shared in the last few months. And I want to get closer in every way. I don’t know if she’ll let me have more, though, so I do my damnedest to focus on what’s in front of me.

Her beautiful body, lush and full and mine.

Mine.

I feel like she belongs to me. I want her to belong to only me.

For a second, I wonder how long I’ll be able to touch her like this, how long this will last. If this is a one-night thing or if it could be more. I want so much more, even though I know it’d turn my life upside down and inside out. But then I tell myself to enjoy this night for what it is, and I slide the zipper down the rest of the way, letting the dress fall over her belly to her waist. Her eyes have a nervous sheen I haven’t seen before. Like she needs to know I like how she looks with all her curves.

I kiss her lips because I love how she looks.

The dress falls off, hitting the floor, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful. My eyes travel up and down her body, memorizing her curves, her lushness, her hips. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She swallows and clasps her hands to my face. “You have to stop saying that.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not giving me a chance to tell you how attracted I am to you.”

Grinning wickedly, I slide my hand between her legs, my fingers gliding over the soaked panel of her panties. “How about you show me by coming on my face?”