I kick open Claire’s bedroom door, and Milo tries to dart inside, but I’m not having that. I lift my foot, blocking her entry while I balance Claire in my arms as we squeeze through the door.

Milo whimpers, and Claire juts out her bottom lip. “Awww…poor baby.”

“Give me five minutes, and you won’t even remember she exists.”

Claire looks up at me with heavy eyes as I lower her to the bed, and when I pick up her foot, she closes them. She looks so incredibly sexy with her wild red hair fanned out on the pillow.

I push my thumb to the ball of her foot, massaging in an up and outward motion. “Open your eyes, Red. We’ve waited too long for this, and I want you here with me.” Lowering my head, I kiss the inside of her ankle, and Claire’s eyes pop open.

“There she is.” I smile. Claire does not. “What’s wrong? If you’ve changed your mind or you’re not ready for this, just say the word.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s not that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

“I hate my feet…and you’re touching them.”

I laugh. “I’m kissing my way up your leg, and you’re thinking about how much you hate your feet?”

“Don’t laugh. It’s one of my many insecurities. I have a freakishly long second toe, and right now it’s all up in your face.”

I keep my eyes on hers, loving how expressive they are. “I read in an article that said having a long second toe is normal.”

“You did not. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Did too. I’ll find the article and forward it to you.” I lower her foot to the bed and pick up the other one.

A smile threatens the corner of her mouth, but she holds it back. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what? Giving you a massage, or trying to convince you that your feet aren’t gross?”

“Both.” She shrugs. “You could just devour me. I don’t need all the extra stuff.”

There are a hundred different answers I could give her, but I decide to go with the truth, because that’s what a girl like Claire deserves.

“Maybe I want all the extra stuff. Maybe I want to take it slow because all I’ve thought about today is touching you. I’ve thought about this moment for years, and I want to do it right. I want to worship every inch of your body. As for your toes, nothing about you is gross—far from it. In fact, I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about you—including your freakishly long second toe.”

She narrows her eyes. “You don’t have a weird foot fetish, do you?”

I smile. “Not at all. I’ve never touched a woman’s foot until yours tonight.”

“Really?”

I nod, moving my hands up her calf. “There are a lot of things I’ve never done with a woman that I find myself wanting to do with you.”

“Like what?”

“Different conversation for a different day, sweetheart, because right now all I can concentrate on is kissing every inch of this creamy skin.”

I trail my lips up her calf, and when I make it to the soft spot behind her knee, Claire shudders.

“I have lots and lots of skin.”

“Then I better get started.”

I gently push my thumbs into the sides of her calf, moving them in slow circles. With a firm grip, I slide my hands over her knee, and the farther up her thigh I get, the more labored her breathing becomes.

“This could take all night,” she moans as I knead the delicate skin.

“I’ve got nowhere to be.”

I spend the next five minutes torturing her, massaging her. She watches my every move while I watch her, enamored with the breathy little moans coming out of her mouth.

Cupping my hands around her thigh, I slide them up her leg, this time pushing higher until I sneak below the hem of her shorts. I brush my thumb against her inner thigh and watch as Claire’s breath hitches.

Her chest is heaving, and if my cock gets any harder, it’s going to explode. Claire’s knees fall open, and while I want nothing more than to rip her panties off and sink myself into her tight, warm heat, she deserves so much more.

I’ve closed my eyes, trying to slow myself down, when I feel her hand on mine.

I look up, my eyes meeting hers. She blinks and looks down at our hands on her inner thigh, and ever so slowly she guides my hand, pushing it until my fingers meet the edge of her underwear.

No words are needed. Everything she wants from me is written across her face. She’s screaming at me to give her what she wants.

Please, Trevor. Touch me.

* * *

I can’t believe I’m doing this, practically begging a man to touch me.

Oh, wait. Yes, I can, because that man is Trevor, and his magical hands are eliciting all sorts of sensations, and while I love the massage, I simply can’t wait another second to feel his hands on other parts of my body.

Pulling my bottom lip into my mouth, I look down at him. One second he’s watching me, as though he’s warring with himself about what to do, and the next he’s reaching for my shorts, pulling them down my legs with my panties, and tossing them to the side.

“Open.” He shoulders his way between my legs, hooks his arms under my thighs, and buries his face against me.

“Shit.” I moan, pushing my fingers into the short strands of his silky hair, holding him to me.

Wrapping his lips around my clit, Trevor sucks the tight ball of nerves into his mouth, and my hips buck against his face. Each swipe of his tongue pushes me closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so damn good, Claire.” His words, spoken against my flesh, send vibrations through my body, and I grind myself against him.

The sight of Trevor’s big body between my thighs, his mouth on me, is almost too much, but I force myself to watch because I don’t want to miss a single second of what happens between us tonight.

Trevor pushes two fingers deep inside of me, curling them at just the right angle. Every nerve ending fires at once, and I dig my heels into the mattress, holding on to his head for dear life.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So damn sexy. You taste like heaven.” He ends his verbal ministrations with a flick of his tongue against my clit, and that combination sends me hurtling into orgasmic bliss. I come, loud and long, and when the final tremor ripples through me, Trevor lifts his head from between my legs.

His smile is arrogant and sexy.

My eyes drift shut, and I know there’s a lazy, sated grin gracing my lips as Trevor climbs up my body, leaving the sweetest little kisses along the way. His lips graze my inner thighs, my belly, the swells of my breasts, my neck, and when he reaches my mouth, he kisses me there too.

“You moan a lot when my face is between your legs.”

“Mmm…” I hum, loving the feel of his five o’clock shadow against my jaw.

“Makes me wonder what other noises I could get you to make.”

I grin up at him, open my eyes, and press myself against his erection. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Trevor’s smile falls. “I don’t have a condom.”

Trevor Allen doesn’t have a condom? Now that’s something I thought I’d never hear. “Really?”

“I didn’t come here tonight to sleep with you, Claire. I came here to talk.” He sounds a little put off, and I feel bad because I didn’t mean to upset him.

I cup his face in my hands and bring his mouth to mine. The kiss is sweet and simple, an apology of sorts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just…” Crap. I grimace. “I’m aware of the lifestyle you live and—”

Trevor’s body goes rigid atop mine. “And what lifestyle is that?”

“I don’t know…” I shrug, struggling to find a good way to explain it without offending him, which I’ve already done. “Women flock to you. Every time I see you at Dirty Dicks, you’ve got someone new hanging on your arm. You don’t do relationships, and I’ve never seen you with the same girl twice. What am I supposed to think?”

A stark pain flashes in his eyes. “Geez, Claire. I’m not a manwhore.”

Guilt slices through my chest. He tries to pull back, but I don’t let him. “I know you’re not. I know that. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have assumed you’d have a condom with you. That wasn’t fair of me. Please,” I beg, running my fingers over his back. “Forgive me. I can barely think around you, let alone talk.”

Trevor takes a deep breath and blows it out. “I haven’t been with a woman in months. Probably close to a year if I were keeping track.”

Wow. I had no idea. But now that I think about it, I’ve seen him at the bar with women, but I haven’t actually seen him leave with anyone in a long time.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Guess I’m ready for something more than meaningless sex…and I was waiting for the right girl.”

My heart stutters to a stop inside my chest before kick-starting into high gear. “And me…am I the right girl?”

Trevor’s eyes soften. With a thoughtful smile, he rubs his thumb along my lower lip. “Claire.” He whispers my name so delicately, like he could break it. “You’re the only girl.”

“Trevor.” Curling my hand around his neck, I pull his forehead to mine. “I don’t know what to say. No one has ever said anything like that to me before.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just let me love you.”

I reach for the nightstand beside my bed, but it’s too far away. “There’s a condom in the top drawer.”

“Yeah?”

I nod.