This was harder than it seemed at first. I’d felt bold when I sent that text, but the longer Jace took to get here, the less bold I got. I sipped my wine until my glass was empty, then thought maybe I shouldn’t have another. I thought about putting makeup on, then decided that would be too much. I thought about taking a shower, but my hair would be wet when he got here. I thought about eating something—even though I was too nervous to be hungry—but what if that made my belly pop out? There was no way to hide it. I was naked, after all.

Naked. Right, I was naked. I had to remember that and not think too much about it at the same time. Because if I thought too much about it, the usual female doubts would creep in. I hadn’t been working out as much as I should be since the breakup—I’d been too busy, too preoccupied, and with no one to see me, it seemed like it didn’t matter. I didn’t have a Brazilian wax or a bikini wax or any other kind of wax—for the same reasons as the lack of working out. And then there were my small boobs, which I’d been painfully self-conscious of until I’d learned better. My boobs were given to me by God and genetics, there was nothing I could do about them, and anyone who didn’t like them knew where they could put their opinion.

Except… Jace would see they were small. It was so obvious, standing here naked. Jace has already seen them, you idiot, I told myself firmly. You didn’t hear him complain.

I stared at my empty wine glass and wished he’d hurry up.

Let’s talk about your intimacy problem. Well, I was doing something about it, wasn’t I? I just wished it wasn’t so freaking terrifying.

My phone rang, making me jump. I grabbed it off the counter. It was Jace. Oh shit, he’s standing me up.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual when I answered.

“Tara,” he said, and the tone of his low voice made my spine jump. “I’m downstairs. I know your building, but I don’t know what apartment you’re in.”

I ran a hand through my hair. He was right, of course—I’d never told him. He’d dropped me off in front of my building, but he hadn’t come in. We were both bad at this booty-call thing. “Third floor,” I said. “Apartment 302.”

“You still naked?” he asked.

My heart did a loud thump in my chest. “Yes, Jace.”

“Unlock the door,” he said and hung up.

I buzzed him in, put the phone down, and turned the bolt lock on my door. Then, in a last-minute attack of nerves, I turned out the overhead lights and turned a lamp on instead. I had just stood straight again when the door clicked open and closed again.

I turned. Jace was in my apartment, all six feet plus of him, jeans on his long legs, a black tee, his black leather jacket. He had stopped at the door, his ocean-gray gaze moving over me, taking me in.

“Jesus,” he said softly.

I stood to face him. I brushed my long hair back behind my shoulders so he could see. I could feel my nipples going hard.

His eyes went dark and a muscle twitched in his jaw, but he didn’t move. He kept looking at me—not just my breasts, not just between my legs, but all of me. Finally, his gaze moved back up to my face and he caught my eyes. The darkness was still there, but it was softened by something more thoughtful. He had the most fascinatingly expressive face I’d ever seen. I could stare at Jace Riggs forever.

The silence stretched out. It should have felt awkward and uncomfortable, but somehow it didn’t. It felt warm, like we were talking without talking. Finally, Jace turned and locked my door behind him in one graceful turn of his wrist. Then he turned and came toward me.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t swagger. He just crossed the room until he stood in front of me, and then he put his hands on my waist. His touch was warm and hard, smoothing over my skin until he had pulled me toward him, his palms on my spine. I let myself press into him as he ran his hands slowly, gently up and down my back.

I could feel everything against my naked skin—the cold teeth of the zipper on his jacket, the cool hardness of the leather, even the press of his belt buckle against my belly. My nipples brushed against him, hard and vulnerable. My bare thighs brushed his jeans. I could smell leather and soap—he’d had a shower—and the scent of Jace’s skin. It was a smell I’d reimagined a dozen times since the last time I’d seen him.

I put my hands on his chest beneath his jacket and smoothed them upward. This wasn’t how I’d imagined this would go—I’d pictured something wild, more animalistic. He hadn’t even grabbed my ass or touched my nipples. But I stood there with his hands on my back and his hard, warm chest beneath my palms, and something inside me cracked open instead. I felt like I’d never been naked with a man before. I’d never been this naked with a man before, and it almost made me feel like weeping.

Before I could do anything stupid, like sob, Jace’s big hand moved to the back of my head, tangling through my long hair, and he lowered his head and kissed me. A long, sweet, open kiss that made everything inside me come alive. We’d never done this yet—just stood face to face and kissed. The next thing I knew I was up on my toes, my arms around his neck, my hands in his soft hair as he wrapped his big arms tightly around me. He pressed my whole body against him, nearly lifting me off my feet. His beard rasped against my skin and our tongues tangled like we were teenagers. Beneath the cool of the leather jacket he was warm, so warm. His clothes pressing against my bare skin was exciting and frustrating at the same time.

He broke the kiss and dropped his mouth to my neck. One of his hands brushed over my hair, smoothing the strands, and I could feel my pulse in my throat. My fingers tightened on the back of his neck.

“Jace,” I managed to say, “I’m naked.”

His mouth was traveling slowly over the side of my neck, savoring it. His hand moved down and finally slid over the soft flesh of my ass, exploring the curve of it, then cupping it gently. “You are beautifully naked,” he said softly in my ear.

I couldn’t breathe for a long moment. Then I remembered what I was going to say. “You have clothes on,” I said. “Take them off.”

“I’d rather look at you,” he rumbled against my neck.

“I wouldn’t,” I said. God, did I know his hair was soft before? I couldn’t remember. “I’ve been standing here for a while. I’ve seen enough of me.”

His answer was immediate. “There’s no such thing as seeing enough of you.”

I couldn’t breathe again. Then I brushed my fingertips over his trim beard. “I’d rather see you.”

He grumbled again, but I pushed at the leather jacket and he allowed it to drop to the floor. He took his arms off me just long enough for it to be gone, and then he put them around me again. It wasn’t enough, but at least I had access to his arms now, bare beneath his tee. I ran my hands over his forearms, the insides of his elbows, his biceps, exploring them as he bent and kissed me again.

He bent his knees and lifted me, and my legs wrapped around him of their own accord, gripping his hips like we did this every day. He didn’t take his mouth from mine but walked us into my kitchen like I weighed nothing. I broke the kiss and gasped as I felt the cold of the counter beneath my ass.

He let go of my waist and his hands moved up to my breasts, engulfing them easily, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. He bent his knees again and lowered down to put his mouth on my nipple as I moaned and dug my hands into his hair.

“More clothes off,” I gasped.

“You’re impatient,” he said, moving to the other nipple.

I was. I yanked at his shirt from my awkward angle, and he gave in and pulled it off, tossing it away. He returned to my nipples and I gasped again as the sensation shot through me, down my belly and between my legs. I needed him there. I needed him there.

But I didn’t want to do it on the kitchen counter. My plan for wild, animalistic sex had disappeared. I didn’t want to do it that way, not with this man, not in this moment. “The bed,” I told him, my voice choked.

He understood, like he always did. He straightened, his hands smoothing down the small of my back. He lifted me again like a feather, and the next thing I knew I was on my back on the bed with Jace over me.

We’d done this before in his guest house—me on the bed, Jace braced over me, his big arms flexed. That had been dirty and raw and spectacular, a first time for the record books. This time I pulled him down to me and kissed him while his hands moved down my sides, over my belly, making me shiver. His hand slid back up over my breast and he bit my lip gently as his thumb brushed over my throat. He hadn’t even touched me between my legs yet and I was going crazy.

I undid his belt, the buttons on his jeans, and slid my hand inside, rubbing him. He braced himself over me on one hand and with the other he pinned my free hand to the mattress. He looked down at me, his dark mussed hair falling forward, his gray eyes never leaving mine.

“Christ, you’re gorgeous,” he said.

Happiness bubbled up through me. I’d never in my life had a man look at me the way this one did. I hadn’t been made with curves that men stared at, the kind that drove them wild, but Jace looked at me like he’d never seen a sexier woman in his life. I felt voluptuous and female and perfect. “No talking,” I said, letting my hand travel over him, feeling his heat and his length.

The corner of his mouth quirked, though he was fighting to keep control. “The condoms are in my jacket. In the other room.”

“We don’t need them.” I’d been thinking about this while standing naked in my apartment, waiting for him to come. “I’m on the pill. I know you’re clean. And I am, too. I got tested after…” I couldn’t say more. Kyle had no place in this bed. “After,” I finished lamely.

His look was shocked and turned on at the same time. “Are you fucking serious?”

I leaned up and brushed my mouth over his lower lip. “I am fucking serious,” I told him.

His body had gone hard, his shoulders and arms tense. He was processing the idea, letting it sink in. I had to remember this was only the second time for him, that maybe it was too much too soon. Maybe I was pushing him. Maybe he wouldn’t be comfortable. Maybe—

Then he was off the bed, and I heard the last of his clothes hit the floor. The bed sagged as he got on again, fully naked, miles and miles of sleek hot muscle. The dark dusting of hair on his flat belly fascinated me, his lean hips, his strong thighs. And his cock, powerful and vulnerable. He knelt between my legs, pushed them apart. He lowered his head and trailed his mouth over my belly as his fingers finally slid into my pussy.

I moaned in pleasure, pushing my hips up off the bed. He stroked me, his clever fingertips finding me everywhere, every slick crevice that was waiting for him. “What do you want, Tara?” he asked, his breath against the skin of my belly.

“You,” I said.

Jace’s teeth scraped me for a second as he thought about that. “That’s a good answer.” He moved up over me, kissed my mouth, and pushed the tip of his cock inside me, bare.

It was like lightning. We both gasped. Jace dropped his mouth to my neck and pushed in further, further. “Fuck, that’s good,” he said.

I reached down and gripped his perfect ass, pulling him into me. I felt wild, happy and at the same time terrified that this would end. “Why is it so good with you?” I said into the skin of his shoulder. “It isn’t like anything else. It’s incredible. I don’t know why.”

“Because of you,” he said, pushing all the way in until he filled me. I could feel his bare skin, his pulse inside me. And then, instead of fucking me, he drew out again and rubbed his fingers where he’d just been.

“Jace,” I said. “Jesus.”

“I like to watch you come,” he said.

He was going to see it. I was climbing toward orgasm, but I wanted him to fuck me. “I need you,” I said, nearly begging. “I need you.”

His hand left me and he pushed his cock inside me again, a long slow pump as I gripped him and moaned. “God, where did you learn this?” I said as he withdrew from me again and I tried not to whimper. “I thought inexperienced guys were supposed to be fast.”

He laughed quietly against the side of my neck as his fingers found me again. “When you wait this long, you learn restraint,” he said, his thumb slowly circling my clit. “It’s been so many years, I can wait a few more minutes.”

“Oh,” I said. I was rising, rising. “Don’t you want—”

His teeth scraped my skin, his beard dragging over it. “Don’t mistake me, Tara,” he said. “I very much want. I want my come inside you. I want it in your mouth, on your skin. I want it in your ass. I want it everywhere, because I want everything.”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes.”

“I’m going to have it,” he said.

I couldn’t wait. “Yes,” I said again.

He pressed my clit with the pad of his thumb and I came, arching and crying out. Jace put a hand on my hip and thrust inside me so I was squeezing him as I kept coming. Then he gave me what I wanted and fucked me, fast and hard and slick, his cock perfect inside me, making the aftershocks of the orgasm pound through me, drawing them out over and over. I was delirious and sore and it felt better than anything. He gripped the back of my knee and came with a groan, his come releasing inside me long and hard.

He dropped his face to my neck as we both fought for breath. His hand came up and his thumb drew over my cheekbone once, a slow caress. He ran the backs of his fingers over my jaw, my throat, and then gently touched my hair, his fingertips moving through the tousled strands.

My throat closed as I stared at the ceiling, breathing him in. This wasn’t sex. Well, it was—it was—but at the same time it wasn’t. There were no words for what this was. There were no words for how it filled me with happiness and terrified me at the same time. There were no words for Jace Riggs and his gray eyes and his hands on my skin and the way he felt inside me, no words for the woman I was with him, a woman who was whole and full and powerful and vulnerable for the first time in her life.

He rolled off me, withdrawing from me, and lay on his back on the pillow next to me. I turned my head and watched him slowly scrape his hands over his face. I was mesmerized yet again by his hands, his fingers with their understated rings, the way his beard made a rasping sound against his palms, the way he pressed his fingertips briefly into the skin of his forehead and his temples, massaging it. “Jesus Christ,” he said softly.

I rolled over onto one side so I could watch him more openly. “Talk to me,” I said, because with me it was words, always words.

Jace laughed, dropping his hands, and once again he was oblivious to how I froze in fascination and awe. “Tara, I can’t say a fucking thing.”

He’d had plenty to say a few minutes ago, every word of it burned into my brain. Even now, with my body humming with satisfied contentment, I was willing to let him do all of those things. I could feel the warm trickle of him between my legs, but I didn’t want to get up yet.

“Luke knows about us,” Jace said. “Or he will, as soon as he gets home and Emily tells him.”

“Emily knows?”

“I had to borrow her car to come over here.”

Shit. I should have thought about that when I’d texted him. “I thought there was a car you were working on,” I said. “It isn’t ready yet?”

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, his gray eyes unreadable. “It had problems,” he said. “I had to get rid of it. I’ll get another one.”

I put my palm to his warm shoulder and rested my chin on the back of my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

He glanced at me. “Don’t ever say sorry for getting naked and inviting me over.” He looked at the ceiling again. “Anyway, I borrowed Emily’s car, and she figured everything out. Which means Luke knows, and eventually my other brothers will, too.”

“Does that bother you?” I asked him.

“No,” he replied honestly.

“I’d like to meet them.”

That made him hesitate. “My brothers are difficult people,” he said. “We all thought Ryan would have a big baseball career, but that’s over, I think for good. Dex flunked off the police force, and there were rumors he was corrupt. We’ve fucked up a lot of things in our lives. We aren’t really upstanding guys, the kind of guys you want to get to know.”

“Jace,” I said, “I see screwed-up people for a living. Your brothers don’t scare me. Besides, you wish you were closer to them. I can tell by the way you talk about them.”

His brows drew down as he thought this over. “We’ve never been close,” he said, hedging. Then he added, “The truth is, I didn’t think that was an option.”

I drew my fingertip along his bearded jaw. “It’s an option,” I said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He thought about it some more, then glanced at me, a wry spark of amusement in his eyes. “Thank you, counselor,” he said.

I leaned over and brushed my lips over his. “You’re welcome.” I kissed him again, and there it was, that spark that never went out.

This man. This man.

“Session’s over,” I told Jace Riggs. “What else are we going to do?”