Harlan doesn’t need any encouragement. He climbs right up onto the massive brown leather sofa that dominates the middle of the room and lays down with a happy sigh.

“Oh no you don’t.” The humor in his voice takes the sting out of his words. “I’m not a total idiot. If you think I’m going to let you mess this up for me, you can think again.”

Harlan rests his chin on his forepaws and closes his eyes, the very picture of a content Bernese Mountain Dog.

Garret shakes his head. “Forget it, buddy. I’m not falling for it.”

A skinny, gray three-legged cat struts into the room, its bent tail held high. It glances at the couch and stops in mid-step, its brilliant yellow eyes wide nearly bugging out of its head as it goggles at my dog.

Harlan is too busy pretending to be asleep to notice the cat.

Garret’s gaze bounces from my dog to his cat. “Great,” he mutters. “I don’t know how Sammy feels about dogs and I’d really rather wait to find out.”

He hurries across the room, scooping up the cat and carrying it to the room the cat just came out of. He puts it down and nudges it farther into the room before shutting the door.

He turns to the couch, where Harlan is still pretending to be sound asleep. “And now you.”

He picks up the trailing leash and gives it the lightest tug. Harlan heaves a large sigh and slowly oozes off the couch. Garret closes him into another room.

“That’s my weight room.” Garret turns back to me. “I keep a bowl of water and some old pillows in there for Sammy, so Harlan should be fine for a little while. And I won’t have to worry about him interrupting us.” He stops before me and grins. “Now, where were we?”

I return his smile and stand on tiptoe to place a light kiss on his lips. “You were just about to show me your place.”

Garret’s voice drops an octave. “Ah, yes.” He picks up my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “That’s right. And I think the bedroom is the ideal place to start the tour, don’t you?”

“Works for me.”

Garret’s bedroom occupies the second floor of his massive apartment. It’s three times the size of mine. And done up in a lot of earth tones that consist of browns, greens, and dark blues, with the occasional splash of orange or gold to brighten things up.

Several nice photographs hang from the walls, but Garret doesn’t give me time to explore them.

He tugs my hand, leading me to the room’s focal feature: the massive king-sized bed that has been shoved to the far side of the room.

Garret maneuvers me to the bed and gently nudges me backwards until I’m lying on top of the cool comforter.

His eyes roam the length of my sprawled body. “So beautiful,” he murmurs.

I expect him to tumble onto the mattress and be all over me, like two characters in an R rated movie, but he doesn’t. Instead he lingers by the side of the bed, staring reverently down at me, a strange glow lighting his gorgeous eyes.

“Simply stunning,” he murmurs and brushes a strand of hair away from my heated face, sliding it behind my ear. I lean into the casual touch, nuzzling my cheek against his fingertips, thrilling at the way the slightly callused skin scrapes lightly against my softer, smoother flesh.

Without breaking eye contact, Garret reaches for the bottom of his T-shirt, balling it up in his fists in preparation for drawing it over his head, but before he does, I sit up and cover his hands with mine.

“Let me,” I whisper through kiss-swollen lips.

His warm breath washes over my face, blowing through my hair, nearly distracting me as my suddenly clumsy fingers clutch at the material. I slowly push the bottom of the shirt up, revealing one inch of bare masculine body after another. The sight of those glorious abs makes my mouth go try. My hands start shaking. Following my instincts, I lean forward and place a kiss on one of the hard ridges. Garret gasps and his flesh jumps beneath my lips, but he doesn’t move to stop me.

Emboldened by his reaction, I continue the slow process of revealing a small strip of flesh which I kiss thoroughly before sliding the shirt just a little higher. This is so not like me. With every other man, I’ve simply lain back, letting them set the pace, but this is more fun.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I rise up to my knees and pull the shirt over his head. His blazing gaze meets mine and the shirt falls completely forgotten from my fingertips.

My heart stumbles and I nearly forget how to breathe. He’s stunning. A walking, talking, example of the perfect male body. And he’s all mine. At least for tonight.

Garret kicks off his shoes and unfastens his jeans, letting them slide down his legs before he joins me on the bed. His hands curl around my shoulders, pushing me flat back onto the mattress before he reaches for the hem of my t-shirt and quickly pulls it over my head and tosses it on the floor.

It takes all my self-control to lay passively beneath his bold stare. I’m still wearing my cut off shorts and my bra is a sturdy one that covers more of my body than the average bikini, including the one I brought on my seaside vacation last summer, but for some reason I feel more exposed than ever before.

My eyes sweep up and down his body. My heart stumbles and I nearly forget how to breathe. He’s stunning. A walking, talking, example of the perfect male body. And he’s all mine.

“Magnificent.” I murmur. Lust thickens my voice.

Garret’s eyes sparkle and he leans in close, his warm breath washing over my face. “My turn.”

On all fours, he looms above me. “You’re beautiful,” he says, cupping my face with one hand, his thumb stroking lightly over my parted lips. “Stunning.”

Reaching out, I run a hand over his hips, stroking him through his jeans. “One of us is a bit over dressed, don’t you think?”

“Mmm.” Garret reaches for his fly, popping the button out of the button hole. “That’s easily fixed.” He shoves his jeans and underwear down his powerful thighs, letting them join the rest of our clothes on the floor.

His cock stands out, swelling proudly from his body, but before I can fully appreciate it, Garret buries the fingers of one hand in my hair, and uses the other to tilt my head until I’m looking into his stunning eyes.

“Do you want to stop?” he whispers.

The sincerity in his voice makes my heart ache and melts any concerns I have. He’s serious. If I tell Garret to stop, that I’m not ready, he will. I’m not sure if any of my other boyfriends would have done the same. That’s all it takes. Just that little bit of concern for me causes my worries and insecurities to melt away.

The memory of that little explosion of sensation tickles my mind. It was one of the most incredible and satisfying things I’ve ever experienced, instantly having sex with Garret about a thousand times better than any of my previous boyfriends, but what if it could be even better? What if that was only a small sample of what Garret was really capable of?

There’s only one way to find out. I twine my arms around his neck.

“No.” I rise a little and brush a butterfly soft kiss across his lips. “Stopping is the last thing on my mind.”