His hands clutch my hips, his own moving between my thighs as he bends closer, his torso flattening against mine, pressing me more firmly against the counter. My fingers tangle in his hair as his mouth plunders mine.

It feels so right. Natural in a way I’ve never experienced before. Instead of the awkwardness, the nervousness that’s always made it impossible for me to move past this point with any of the men who’ve kissed me in the past, I finally feel free to release the death grip I’ve always maintained on my self-control and lose myself in the sensations he’s stoking with his expert touch and intoxicating mouth.

The sounds of pleasure coming from somewhere deep in his throat set fire to my blood as much as his taste. They chase away my doubts and the shyness I’ve always experienced in the past.

I explore his mouth, savoring the slight bite of the wine that clings to the warm flesh.

Jeremy straightens, moving off of me, not giving me a chance to adjust to the sudden loss of his warmth before his arms curl around me, pulling me off the counter. Carrying me as easily as he would Sasha, he moves with long, purposeful strides through his large apartment to his bedroom, where he sets me free.

He reaches up, cupping his big hand around my cheek. I lean into his touch, both needing it and craving more.

He stares at me, his expression half-smiling and half-quizzical. Something about it makes me wonder if he knows, if he somehow senses my inexperience even though I hadn’t – would never – tell him.

“Are you sure?” he whispers. “Is this what you want?”

Yes. No. I’m really not sure. Were it not for the wine singing through my veins, I probably would take this opportunity to bolt, just like I have every other time I’ve come this far.

But I’m tired of wondering. I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of running. And the funny thing is, even though I’ve only known Jeremy for a little while, even though he’s about as far removed from the guys I’ve always dated as anything imaginable, I trust him more than I have ever trusted anyone. Just this one time, I want to lose myself in the heat of the moment, and Jeremy seems like the perfect person to lose myself with.

I trace his lips with the pad of my thumb, marveling at how soft they are. “I want you,” I whisper, delighting in how his eyes darken at my words. “I want this. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life.”

His fingers dig into my arms as he bows his head. The kiss is different than the ones before it. Deeper, pushing me closer to something hotter and more tantalizing than I’ve ever experienced before. My hands glide up his chest, exploring his well-developed muscles through his shirt before I loop my arms around his neck.

“What do you like?” he murmurs against my mouth, his breath fanning across my cheeks and ruffling my hair.

Uh oh, that’s not a good question. Since I won’t know what I like until I’ve experienced it, I opt for the safe answer. One that won’t make him stop touching me, kissing me.

I sweep my fingers back and forth against the soft skin on the back of his neck, delighting in how the simply action makes him shiver. “I like all the same things you do.”

Chuckling, he kisses my hair. “That simplifies things.”

His hands aren’t quite steady as he reaches for the bottom of my long-sleeved T-shirt, slowly drawing it upwards, revealing my flat stomach and the ridges created by my ribs one slow inch at a time, until he finally tugs the garment over my head and tosses it across the room.

He steps back a little, taking advantage of the light spilling into the bedroom to conduct a visual exploration.

The weight of his gaze makes me shiver. Had I had even an inkling that his offer of dinner would have ended this way, I’d have taken a little more time getting dressed, opted for the pretty peach Victoria’s Secret number I treated myself to last year instead of my faithful battered sports bra.

“Gorgeous,” Jeremy whispers, bowing his head and trailing a line of butterfly kisses along my collar bone, not stopping until his lips encounter my bra strap. “Simply stunning.”

I’m certain he’s lying—.this is a man with the money, looks, and personality to date any woman in the world – but I can’t bring myself to care. His words might not be true, but that doesn’t stop them from sending a searing bolt of confidence through me. They’re exactly what I need to hear right now.

Fingers trembling, I catch hold of the bottom of his sweatshirt and push it upwards until it slides over his head. I let it fall to the floor and swallow. His torso is more finely honed, more chiseled than any of the celebrities I’ve drooled over. He has the body of a Greek god and for tonight, it’s all mine.

Unable to resist, I drop a kiss to the middle of his sternum, relishing the faint taste of salt. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

My hands have a mind of their own. Before I even fully grasp what they’re doing, they’ve reached for his waistband and worked the button of his jeans free. Above my hands, his stomach muscles quiver. I wonder whether it’s the result of barely contained lust or anticipation. I don’t really care. The only thing I care about is that his body is having such a strong reaction to me. I never dreamt I could have such an impact on any man – let alone this one.

His hands come up, fisting in my hair, holding me still for a hard, quick kiss. “You’re fucking driving me crazy,” he breathes into my mouth. “Do you know that?”

“I’m starting to figure that out.” I grin against his lips. “And I like it.”

Moving with more confidence, more purpose, I lower his zipper and push his jeans down over his hips, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock strains against the front of his bright white briefs. The sight causes me to falter.

I’ve come this far, there’s no way I’m running now – but I don’t have the faintest idea what I should do next. And what if he finds out that I have zero experience past this point? Would it turn him on or – or – maybe appall him, and make him throw me out of his apartment? A brief hint of panic rises, and it takes a second before I’m able to bite it back down.

The mental image of being tossed out in my current state gives me the boost I need, and I reach for his briefs. Before my fingertips brush against the white cotton, his hands slide down my arms until his fingers bracket around my wrists, holding them in place.

Heart pounding, I lift my head, my gaze capturing his. His eyes burn with passion. His breathing is ragged. Sweat beads on his pectoral muscles. “Jeremy?” My voice shakes. “Did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head and draws in one deep breath, followed by another. “No, I just need a second.” He releases my hands and reaches for my waistband. “I seem to be running behind.”

Startled by the feel of his hands, I draw in a deep breath and suck in my stomach. I wait for the bright flash of panic, but for the first time it doesn’t come. For the first time in my life, I’m willing to relax. To trust.

My pants slide down my legs, followed almost instantaneously by my panties. Jeremy’s big body presses against mine, urging me backwards toward the bed while his hands slowly roll my bra upward, freeing my aching breasts.

And his lips. God. They never rest. The man’s mouth is all over me, and each place his lips and tongue touch burns, the blood pounding painfully just below the skin.

I strain against him, even as he urges me backwards onto the mattress, begging for more of his attention.

“Easy, Caitlin,” he murmurs. The mattress crumples beneath our combined weights. The silk bedspread is cool, soothing, against my overheated skin.

He spreads his body across mine and all my muscles turn to water. I never would have thought the simple feel of flesh against flesh could feel so good, so natural. Wanting more and not knowing quite how to get it, I run my hands up and down his back, scraping my nails lightly against his skin as I squirm beneath him.

Laughing against my mouth, he works a hand between us, cupping my most intimate spot, the touch causing the flame that started burning within me when he kissed me in the kitchen to erupt into an inferno.

“Jeremy,” I gasp his name against his lips as my nails bite into his rock-hard muscles and my body arches and bucks beneath his.

Needing air, I break the kiss, inhaling deeply before I begin peppering his jaw with kisses, occasionally nipping, only to soothe the tormented skin with the tip of my tongue.

“Caitlin,” he groans before lowering his head to my breasts. His fingers rub the side swell, massaging deeply as his tongue flicks across my nipple, lavishing attention on it until it’s diamond hard before moving to its twin and repeating the process. Through it all, his hand never moves. Not to explore and not to ease up on the incredible pressure.

The more attention he lays upon my chest, the more aware I become of his hands between my thighs. I squirm against it, loving the pressure even as I wish he’d back off.

The hand he was using to hold my breasts in place for his mouth moves, sliding up and over my chest, gliding along the line of my throat, and catching me about the chin. He taps his index finger against my cheekbone until I finally meet his eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?”