But he didn’t.

Instead Rob reached down and grabbed my hand, his hand turning with him as he led me to the bed. Swallowing my disappointment—stop, I couldn’t be disappointed, we couldn’t break the rules—I followed him, my eyes raking down the broad expanse of his back.

The bed was enormous, neatly made up in fluffy white linens. He pulled back the covers.

“Get comfortable,” he said. “I’ll go grab some condoms.”

“Just one.”

He smirked, rustling a hand through his hair. “You didn’t come all this way for just one, Aly.”

I shivered. I hated when he was right.

He disappeared into what I assumed was the master bathroom. I climbed into his bed, fighting a feeling of…weirdness, I guess, at being in my fuckboy’s bed. Where he read and slept and dreamed. I wiggled down until I was lying flat, half covered by the comforter.

I could smell him on the pillow. That cologne.

I closed my eyes against a rush of desire.

Glancing around, I noticed how neat the room was. Neat, but lived in. Books were stacked on the nightstand beside heavy silver picture frames. There were pictures of his brothers. His parents. One of Rob looking especially dashing in a uniform, his arm draped casually over his sister’s shoulders.

A pair of glasses rested on the neatly coiled wire of a charger. I didn’t know he wore glasses. Were they just for reading? Or did he have to wear contacts, too?

I looked up to see Rob standing across the room, leaning his shoulder into the bathroom doorway. He was looking at me. His eyes were very blue and different somehow. His brow was the tiniest bit puckered.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self conscious.

He pushed off the frame, giving his head a shake. “Nothing. Just…how you look in my bed...” He shook his head again. “I like how you look naked. That’s all.”

My nipples prickled at his voice. It was an octave lower than usual.

I watched him strut toward the bed. He was shirtless in just his jeans. Jeans that hung low on his chiseled hips. What was it about that v, complete with dark blond happy trail—the one guys had that dipped into their groin—that made it such a mind fuck?

“And I like the way you look in those jeans.”

His lips twitched. Tossing a handful of foil packets onto the other side of the bed, Rob climbed up. Climbed toward me, planting his fists on either side of my arms before he did this athletic rolling dip number to land on top of me. I welcomed him with open legs, and his hips settled against my sex, ducking to press a kiss onto my chest as I wrapped my arms around him.

He settled his weight on me, making me breathless in the best—the best—way.

“Too much?” he murmured against my neck. His lips were hot and slow on my skin. Right then I wished we didn’t have rules. I wanted those lips on my lips. Just the idea of his kiss had my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

“No,” I breathed. “Just right.”

He felt just right on top of me like this. His weight and the way he smelled and the hard angles and planes of his body lined up against the curves of mine.

Rob rolled his hips into me, sliding his hand up my thigh, guiding it up against his side. Splaying me wider. His thumb grazed my nipple, a single, hard flick. He was always so physical with me. Never afraid to touch or push.

The need between my legs throbbed, centering in my clit. I made a desperate sound, something between a moan and a plea.

He must’ve picked up on my fraying patience, because he flipped us over, me on top of him. Putting his hands on my sides, he guided me upright so I was straddling his hips.

His erection pressed up into me at this angle. Meeting his eyes, it was my turn to roll my hips. Sensation shot through me, landing in my clit and the tips of my hardened nipples. I pressed a hand into his naked chest, sucking in a breath.

“I’ve got you, Aly,” he said. He slid his first two fingers into the waistband of my underwear. “Let’s get rid of these, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said. I reached up and grasped the headboard, pulling myself up onto my knees. Rob was using both hands to guide the lacy panties down my legs. My sex was screaming. With a bit of awkward maneuvering, we somehow managed to lift one leg, then the other, so I could take the underwear off.

And then, before I could settle back onto his hips, Rob put his hands on the insides of my thighs and spread them wider, lowering me toward his face. My entire being jumped when I realized what he was about to do.

Lifting his neck just a little, he nosed at my slit. My legs wobbled. My eyes snapped shut.

He puckered his lips and kissed my clit. I cried out. He tightened his grip on my thighs.

“You’re okay. You’re okay with me, sweethe—” he stopped himself. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I said, waving him away without opening my eyes. “Jesus, Rob, don’t you dare stop.”

A rumble of laughter echoed in his chest. “There she is. The boss.”

He parted me with his tongue this time. Back to front, one long, slow, deliberate lick. The first flutters of my impending orgasm ricocheted between my legs, sending a tremor through my whole body, making my knees buckle. I held onto the headboard for dear life.

“Oh my God,” I said. The words came out shaky and high.

“You’re okay,” Rob repeated. And I believed him. I believed I’d be okay as long as he held me like this. I was okay with him. I mean, I wasn’t. Not in any real sense. But in this moment, I chose to trust him.

His hands were wrapped around my thighs now, digging into my flesh, holding me up as he kissed me between my legs. Because that’s what this felt like. He wasn’t eating me out. He was kissing me. Caressing me, his motions unhurried and deep. His tongue dipped inside me while one of his fingers found my asshole. He pressed his blunt fingertip against it. Pressed a little harder, so he sunk halfway inside. It was like a sock to the gut—I nearly doubled over.

It hurt.

I loved it.

“Please,” I begged.

His tongue was still on my clit. Teasing. He pushed his finger a bit further into my ass. I felt the wave cresting inside me.

“Only if you say it,” he said.

His name.

He wanted me to say his name.

“Robert, please. Please let me go.”

Growling, Rob took my clit in his mouth and sucked at the same moment he pushed his finger all the way inside me. I gritted my teeth. Saw the stars from tonight’s sky behind my closed eyes.

The orgasm slammed into me like a fifty foot wave, knocking the breath out of me. I moaned for what felt like the hundredth time, the shock waves coming and coming and coming, so intensely sweet I wanted to cry.

“Robert,” I said.

He was still kissing me there, soothing my pulsing flesh with his mouth, his lips. His finger slipped out of my ass. “You’re okay, Aly. Keep letting go. I’m here.”

The orgasm pulsed in my ears and in my legs. At last I let go of the headboard, and Rob caught me before I collapsed. Curling his hands around my waist, he guided my back onto the mattress. I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me, his eyes wide and beautiful. Beautifully expressive. There was a tenderness there I’d never seen before.

It was all too much. The tenderness. The orgasm that would. Not. Quit. The stars and dress and the glasses.

I couldn’t catch my breath. Couldn’t stop shaking.

I grabbed at him, curling my fingernails into his chest.

He surrounded me with his body, his warmth, in reply. Reaching down, he parted my legs and guided his middle two fingers down my slit, gently slipping them inside me. I felt my muscles fluttering around him.

“Jesus Christ, love,” he said. “You’re still there.”

When he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, just how I liked it, I bit my lip.

He ducked his head. Took my nipple in his mouth. I arched my back one last time.

And then at last the orgasm subsided. My legs were jelly. My heart punched hard against my breastbone, over and over again.

Blinking, I opened my eyes. Rob still had my nipple in his mouth, but he was looking at me now. Watching my face. His fingers slipped out of me.

I dug my hand into his hair. “Wow. Just…wow.”

“Welcome,” he said, smirking. After a beat, the smirk faded. His hand moved over my belly. “I want to call you something. Not Aly. I like it when you call me by my full name. What do you like?”

Those eyes. Did they have to be so blue and beautiful and earnest?

I gathered his hair in my fist. “Sweetheart is okay.”

He blinked. “I thought you hated that.”

“I do. I did, I mean. But—” But it feels different now, and I like it. Even though things between us weren’t different. They couldn’t be. “For tonight, it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure how I felt or what was happening right now. Maybe it was just being in an actual bed with Rob—it made the whole thing feel intimate, even though it wasn’t. A case of vertigo, that’s all.

Didn’t explain why I still wanted him to kiss me. Why I wanted to kiss him. More than I’d wanted anything in a long, long time.