For some bizarre reason, Drew parks in the corner of the empty fourth floor of the garage.

The thought of heading to the beach in a bikini is enough to send me into full blown panic. I push everything else aside so I can focus on staying calm. I'm not committing to anything. I'm just trying on swimsuits.

The tile floor squeaks under my rubber soles. There are two department stores with swimwear sections, but I head straight for the specialty shop on the first floor. The woman at the counter is in her forties. She looks at me maternally, like she's going to warn me to wear sunblock.

She studies Drew as if she's trying to place him, then turns back to me. "Are you looking for something in particular, Miss?"

"Do you have anything with a skirt?"

She looks at me funny, like it's strange for someone my age to want a swim skirt. Thankfully, she makes no commentary, instead pointing me to a section in the corner.

It narrows my options considerably. There's one style and the skirt is only barely long enough. It's a lot of fabric, sure to cause enough drag to make swimming difficult. I allow myself a minute to imagine the possibility of wearing a regular swimsuit. Is there any world where I can care so little about the angry red marks that line my thighs?

Drew gives me space, hanging out by the register and making conversation with the saleswoman. She smiles at him, charmed by his personality, his looks, or his potential for commission.

I pick out a reasonably cute purple halter top swim skirt combo and motion to the dressing rooms.

She waves me over. "You sure you don't want to try anything else?"

"How about that one?" Drew points to a tiny black bikini. "Unless you'd rather skinny dip at our place?" He smirks.

The saleswoman plays a strong poker face.

"That would never hold my boobs." I turn back to the dressing room.

"You could try it. See if you like it." He pulls it off the rack and hands it to me.

"No."

His expression softens. "Are you going to hide forever?"

A crick develops in my neck. "You don't get a say in what I wear."

"Maybe something more supportive." The saleswoman points to a not so T&A-revealing black-and-white polka-dot bikini. "This brand has a few different cuts you can try." She pulls a huge handful of tops and bottoms from the rack and leads me to the dressing room.

In the locked stall, I strip to my underwear. Drew is too fucking pushy. He's always like this. It's usually more endearing than it is frustrating, but right now I can't deal with the extra stress.

The purple swim skirt is just long enough to keep me covered. The waist is too high and the top sits funny on my shoulders. It's not the most flattering and it's certainly not the most youthful, but it's a swimsuit I can wear without a panic attack.

That's something.

The mirror in here is too small for a really good look. I fight a sigh as I step into the main area. It's right at the back of the store, in view of Drew, the saleswoman, and anyone walking past us.

Drew makes eye contact immediately. "You look great." He shoves his hands into his pockets like he's on his best behavior.

I don't look great. The bottoms gap at the waist and pull at the hips. The top is too big and too tight all at once. The only good thing about this swimsuit, besides the color, is its ability to cover my upper thighs.

Drew comes closer. He's still a few feet away.

I turn back to him so the mirror is out of my eyeline. "I look like an old lady."

"Like a MILF."

I laugh despite the sense of dread in my gut. "It's exhausting hiding this all the time."

He moves closer. Much closer than is appropriate in the middle of a store with the saleswoman glancing in our direction.

"She's going to ask us to leave." I lean into his body anyway.

He wraps his arms around me. "Then I'll buy everything you've got in the dressing room and you can try 'em on at home."

"Would you really?"

"Last I heard, I don't get a say in what you wear."

"I didn't mean to be so—"

"I know." He kisses my forehead and steps back to an appropriate distance for the middle of a store. "I love how strong you are, Kara. I love that you tell me to back off when I'm being an ass."

The words I love you, Kara were in that sentence in that order. There were other words between them, but my body is ignoring those other words in favor of going into overdrive.

It's warm in here. Really warm. I lift my hair to fan the back of my neck. Better. I'm breathing okay.

"I'll try that other bikini, but there's no way I'm wearing it in public. Understand?" I put my hand on my hip in my most confident posture.

"Kendrick, you can say or do whatever you want if you're modeling swimwear for me."

In the dressing room, I change into the skimpiest of all the polka dot options. The triangle top tugs at my neck. So not happening with my bust size. The bikini bottoms are low rise. They barely cover my thong.

My gaze goes straight to the raised red scars on my thighs. They aren't as bad as they are in my mind, but they're noticeable.

I step back until I'm pressed against the wall. I try to look at myself like I'm taking in the whole picture, but I can't see anything but the scars.

Maybe it's better in the mirror outside.

With a deep breath, I step out of the dressing room. I block out everything but my reflection. First above the waist. The cut is a lot more flattering. My boobs look enormous in the tiny top. My eyes travel down. This bottom fits better. It's not digging into my hips.

And then the thighs.

Under the harsh fluorescent lights, the scars stand out like black tattoos on white skin.

That crick in my neck spreads to my upper back.

Drew comes closer. He looks in the mirror like he's studying my reflection it in. "You okay?"

I shake my head.

"You look hot as fuck, you know."

"Maybe waist up."

"Every inch of you looks hot as fuck." He leans closer. "I'd drag you to the dressing room and rip that bikini off if I didn't know it would get us arrested." He groans. "Even so. Might do it if you stay out here too long."

My cheeks flush. He really does make me feel hot as fuck.

I nod a thank you and return to the dressing room. One of the polka-dot bottoms is a swim skirt with ruffles. It's a lot shorter than the other skirt. It will probably draw attention to my scars as much as it hides them.

I change into it and a bra-style top. The latter fits like a charm. But the skirted bottoms—

They're feminine and adorable and absolutely ineffective at covering the parts I want hidden.

Outside, Drew clears his throat like he's waiting. Okay, fine, I did promise to model for him. I step into the main area and twirl like I really don't give a fuck that my thighs are visible to everyone who walks by the store.

Drew looks me up and down. His eyes go wide. "Your tits look amazing."

"You're a poet."

"Your ass too."

I check my reflection to assess the veracity of his claims. Scar issues aside, the swimsuit is flattering. It plays up my curves without any unfortunate pinching.

"For the record, you see anything you like, it's on me." He shifts, his gaze glued to my ass. "Even if you want everything in the store."

"I'm not sure I like you buying me so much stuff."

"Trust me, Kendrick. This is not for you. It's for me."

He's panting like he can't stand that we're in public and not alone. I bite my lip to keep my mind out of the gutter. There's time for that when this is over.

"Okay." I move back to the dressing room and change into my normal clothes. My muscles are tight and my nerves are shot. The purple suit isn't quite right, but it works for the beach. This black-and-white polka-dot thing is just for us, alone, so I can see that needy look spread over his face again.

I fix my hair and bring my new swimsuits to the register. Drew whips out his credit card and pays without even looking at the total.

* * *

Once we’re inside the car, Drew turns to me, his expression dead serious. "For the record, Kara, your thighs are divine. I'm happy to prove it."

"How would you do that?"

His expression flares with something mischievous. "Bury my face between them."

My cheeks flush. "I'm not sure that proves anything."

"How about I do it anyway?" He reaches over and runs his hand over the inside of my thigh.

Heat courses through my body.

I want to feel normal. As normal as it's possible to feel stripping naked in a parking garage in the middle of the day.

I nod.

He leans over me, unbuckling my seatbelt then pushing my seat back until it's nearly flat.

"This might be uncomfortable for a minute." He shifts into the passenger seat next to me, pressing me against the window. "Bear with me."

He slides his hand up my t-shirt and unhooks my bra. His hands traces its outline. He keeps my shirt on, but pushes my bra up and out of the way.

He slides his hand over my breast. "Your tits are also divine." He pushes my shirt up to my neck. Then the bra.

He palms my breasts, teasing my nipples with his fingertips. I try to forget we're in a car in a parking garage in the middle of the day.

Drew kisses me hard. His tongue dances with mine. His hands work their magic on my chest.

Our kiss releases and he brings his mouth to my ear. "Do me a favor and take those jeans off."

"A favor?"

"You'll like the results."

He looks up at me with a shit-eating grin. Can't say that I'm opposed to the view. There's enough light in here that I can see every line of definition in Drew's chest, shoulders, and stomach. I can make out every brush of ink in his tattoos. My gaze is drawn to a glass heart on his shoulder. It's broken, bleeding.

I trace its outline. "Your ex?"

"That relationship wasn't something I'd want on my body."

"Then what's it for?"

"You want me to use my mouth to explain or you want me to use it to make you come?"

"First one then the other."

He shakes his head like he finds me ridiculous. "I got it with my sister."

"You did not."

He nods. "After all that shit happened. She has a matching one."

“Wasn’t she fifteen?”

“I knew a guy.”

"What's it supposed to mean?"

He drags his fingertips over my stomach, settling on my jeans then unbuttoning them. "It's a statement on my feelings at the time."

His heart was broken over his sister getting hurt. I swoon. Drew can be fucking sweet sometimes.

He pulls my panties to my thighs. He runs his fingertips over the scars on my hips. "I'd die buried in those thighs if I could." Drew looks up at me. "You still want to talk?"

"I kind of like what you're saying."

He runs his fingers over another half-dozen scars. "We could get matching tattoos."

I study his reaction for some sarcasm, but there isn't a hint of it. The guy can't say the word "girlfriend" but he has no problem offering to permanently mark his skin for me.

Rock stars—they make no sense at all.

He pushes my panties and jeans to my knees. Motions for me to take them off. "You're making it awfully hard to eat you out."

"I like this conversation."

"Take off the jeans if you want another word."

I do as I'm asked.

Drew looks at me like I'm crazy to want to hear more about this, but dammit, I really do like what he's saying.

"What kind of tattoo would we get?" I ask.

"Whatever you want." Drew pats the space on the seat right outside his chest. "Knees here."

I press my hands against his shoulders and drag my knees up the seat.

This little crick develops in my neck. He's had his face between my thighs before and it was amazing as all hell, but that was at night in the dark. This is the middle of the day in bright light.

I brace myself for the worst possible reaction.

Drew runs his fingertips up my inner thighs, tracing one scar after another. It's gentle, attentive.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, just..."

One of his hands slides around my leg, trailing up my hamstring and resting on my ass. He looks up at me. "Your thighs are amazing."

"But, they're so..."

"Sexy." He kneads the flesh of my ass. "Now sit on my face." He brings his hands to my hips, pulling me closer.

The seat doesn't go quite flat and the car isn't all that tall. I shift, moving closer, spreading my legs. My head bumps into the roof of the car.

Drew slides down the seat, bringing his mouth inches from my sex. His exhale wakes up all the nerves in my body, sending any doubts away.

When I'm with him, I really do feel divine.

He holds onto my hips, pulling me closer. His tongue slides over my clit. It's a long, luxurious lick. He goes slowly. Really slowly.

My head bumps into the roof of the car again. If only the damn thing was a convertible. We'd be getting arrested but there would be nothing limiting his range of motion.

Drew slides one hand up my torso. His fingers draw circles over my nipples. The same long, luxurious movements. Then his hand goes to my side. He squeezes me like he's telling me to stay in place.

I shift so I'm not quite pressed against the roof and I hold damn steady.

Drew guides me over his mouth, licking me from top to bottom. It's slow. So, so slow. Pleasure whirs inside me. I pant. I claw at the roof of the car. It's not fast enough. I need more. I need to be there, at the edge, pleasure spilling through my body.

"Drew," I whine.

"Hmm?" he mumbles into my inner thigh then sucks on the flesh.

"Make me come."

He moves his mouth a little higher, presses his lips into my thigh. "Hmm?"

"Pretty please."

That pleasure whirls, a little faster, a little higher, but still not nearly enough.

He moves his mouth a little closer, sucking on my flesh again. Then it's closer and he's sucking on my outer lips with the softest, lightest touch.

I struggle to keep track of my breath.

This is more, so, so much more. I close my eyes and dig my hands into the passenger seat.

Drew nibbles on my outer lips. I can't help but gasp. I lose track of everything except that pleasure whirring inside me.

His mouth moves over my sex, licking and sucking and biting.

His speed picks up and my breath picks up with it. I'm panting. I tug at his hair, holding his mouth against me like I'll die if he stops.

He explores me. Soft, hard, slow, fast, zig zag, side to side, front to back. And then his tongue hits just the right spot.

I gasp. "Drew..."

There. He tries out different speeds. Different pressure. It's not enough. Then it's too much. And then it's perfect.

I dig hard into his hair. "Don't stop."

He doesn't.

He licks me right there, perfect rhythm, perfect pressure.

Every flick of his tongue pushes me higher. Closer. My sex clenches. Pleasure spreads through my thighs and stomach. It's like I'm so full I'm about to tip over and spill.

It's so much to take.

Almost.

I buck against his mouth, but he holds me steady. He licks me with care and attention.

There. An orgasm rises up in me. The muscles in my sex clench. They're so tight, so desperate it hurts. And then he licks me one more time, and I fill up completely.

I come, my sex throbbing with pleasure.

He sucks on my lips, just soft enough I don't overload completely. Once I catch my breath, he nibbles on my inner thigh.

His eyes turn toward mine. "Another?"

Damn, this man is insatiable. Not that I'm complaining. I nod.

"That's not very polite."

"Pretty please."

"Better." He sucks on my inner thighs. Then my lips.

My clit.

He's not wasting any time. His tongue laps at me with hard, steady strokes. Different than before but just as good.

I'm already halfway there. I have to press my hands against the roof of the car to contain the sensation.

Drew brings a finger to my sex, teasing me with it.

Whoa.

It's a whole new sensation and I want it so badly.

No waiting, I beg. "Please."

He slides his finger inside me. My sex clenches. Drew groans into my inner thigh. He can feel my pulsing and he fucking likes it.

His tongue goes back to my clit. He slides another finger inside me, teasing at first, then going harder, like he's fucking me with his fingers.

My sex clenches. Again. Again. The pressure is intense. He licks me again, strokes me again, and it only gets tighter.

Tighter.

Tighter.

I moan. "Drew."

He goes a little harder.

"Drew."

He groans against me.

"Drew." I nearly scream it. Almost there. It's so strong I can barely stand it.

He licks me. Strokes me.

Again.

And again.

And then I'm there. The tension inside me rises to a fever pitch, so much stronger and harder and tighter than before. And then it releases.

An orgasm rocks through me. My sex pulses like it's never going to stop.

I catch my breath, shifting so I'm sitting on Drew's lap instead of his face.

He's hard.

He presses his hands against my back, brings his lips to my ear. "You have another one in you?"

Hell yes.

I nod, shifting onto my knees so I can unzip his jeans and shove them to his knees.

He runs his hand through my hair. "This'll be fast. It was torture not fucking you in that store."

"Good. I want to feel you come inside me."

"Fuck." He groans as his cock brushes against me.

I'm in a completely awkward position, not quite sitting up, not quite lying down, but I make it work. Hands on Drew's shoulders, I tease him until I can't stand it anymore. Then I shift, lowering myself onto him so he fills me.

God, that feels good.

I shift my hips, rocking against him with a steady rhythm. My attention stays on Drew, on the delicious expression in his eyes. Pleasure looks damn good on him.

He stares back at me. It's not slow today. It's fast and needy. His hands go to my ass, guiding my movements so I'm going deeper, harder.

He groans. His eyelids press together. My body is spent, but his sounds are enough to push me back to the edge. I surrender to what feels good, closing my eyes and rocking against him. His nails dig into the flesh of my ass. His teeth nip at the skin on my shoulders. His groans reverberate over my chest.

My sex clenches.

Almost.

I lean into it, holding him tighter as I move faster and deeper. It's erratic and animal and I forget about everything that isn't him inside me.

The tension builds to a fever pitch. It hurts so good. And then my sex is pulsing around him, drawing him closer. I sink my teeth into his neck as I come, groaning loudly enough for anyone on the floor to hear.

Drew sinks his fingers into my skin. He pulls me closer, rocking his hips against mine to thrust into me. I can feel his orgasm in the tensing of his chest and shoulders. I blink my eyes open to watch him come.

It's fucking beautiful. He throws his head back, his lips part to make way for a groan. His whole body shudders as he fills me.

He wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on the top of my head. We stay like that for minutes. Eventually, we get back to our clothes and Drew shifts to the driver's seat.