Nerves fluttered in her stomach, making her fingers tremble and the breath hitch in her chest. It was stupid being nervous. But no matter how many times she told herself that, she couldn't stop the fluttering in her stomach.

Taylor finally jammed the key into the lock and turned it, then had to fight with it to get it back out as the door swung open. She glanced over her shoulder, a forced smile on her face as she looked at Chuckie. The smile died under the heat in his eyes as he watched her.

The fluttering in her stomach grew stronger. And God, this was so stupid. Why was she nervous? Chuckie was just being a gentleman by walking her to the door, that was all. It wasn't like he was going to jump her or anything.

Except maybe she wanted him to jump her. No, no maybe about it. That was exactly what she wanted. Or maybe she should take charge and jump him. It wasn't like they hadn't already been together. They had.

Except this felt different for some reason. It didn't make sense, and Taylor was afraid to examine the reasons why. It was just sex, right? Sex after a nice day spent together, drinking mead and eating renaissance junk food and making merry with all the other revelers.

All she had to do was turn around, pull him inside, and kiss him. Press her body tight against his and let him know she wanted him. Easy enough, right? She shouldn't have any problems at all.

Except she couldn't even get her fingers to stop trembling long enough to get the stupid key out of the door. Taylor muttered under her breath and wiggled the key, trying to yank it out. She heard a soft chuckle behind her then jumped when Chuckie's hand closed over hers.

"Here, let me."

She stepped back, embarrassment sweeping over her as Chuckie eased the key from the lock with one smooth move. Great. Now she felt like an even bigger idiot.

He placed the keys into her hand then leaned against the door jamb, making no move to enter the apartment. She propped the door open with the toe of her shoe and tried to act sophisticated and worldly.

"You want to come in or something?" Or something? So much for sophisticated. What was wrong with her? This was Chuckie, for crying out loud. She shouldn't be this nervous or awkwardly shy around him.

Except he wasn't just Chuckie. Not anymore. Not after the other night. Not after today. The man in front of her bore no resemblance to the boy she remembered. Tall, broad. Lean and muscled. Dark hair, his strong jaw covered with the shadow of soft whiskers. And those eyes, so clear and deep a blue, filled with something close to amusement as he watched her.

And oh hell, who was she kidding? She hadn't thought of him as that annoying boy since after the first day she had seen him at practice. But something had changed in the last few days, something she didn't understand.

And she suddenly felt out of her league. Almost…intimidated.

Impatience swept through her. All she had to do was close the distance between them and kiss him. She wanted to. And she was pretty sure he wanted her to, as well. She could see it in the heat swirling beneath the amusement in his eyes as he watched her. So what was stopping her? Why was this so hard?

Her fingers tightened around the keys in her hand, the edges digging into the flesh of her palm as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Well? Do you?"

One corner of his mouth tilted up in a dangerous grin as he finally stepped past her. "How can I turn down an invitation like that?"

She frowned, wondering if he was making fun of her, then closed the door with a soft click. "You don't have to, you know."

Chuckie turned to face her, his body suddenly too close. "Don't have to what?"

"Uh, come in. If you don't want to, I mean."

"I'm already in."

"Yeah. I know. I just meant—if you didn't want to, you don't—" The rest of the words died in her throat as he stepped closer. Too close—yet not close enough. Nowhere near close enough. All she had to do was reach out and wrap her fist in his shirt, tug him a little bit closer, and kiss him. It should be easy enough to do. He was standing right there, within her reach.

But she couldn't do it and she didn't know why. It was all she could do to pull air into her lungs, to force herself to breathe so she wouldn't be quite so lightheaded.

"You look like you're about two seconds away from panicking."

Indignation shot through her, momentarily freeing her from the strange paralysis. "What? I do not! I never panic. I can't believe—"

"Taylor?" Chuckie's voice was deep and warm, almost too tantalizing to resist.

"Yeah?"

"Just do it."

And oh God, did he know what she wanted to do? But how? How could he tell? And did she really care?

No, not when he looked at her that way, with hunger flaring in the depths of those ocean blue eyes. She hesitated, but only for a second. Then she was reaching for him, the keys falling from her hand and hitting the floor with a loud jangle.

Her mouth crashed against his, hot and wet with hungry desperation. A part of her wondered at the desperation, questioned the wisdom of letting him know how much she wanted him. Then Chuckie's mouth opened under hers and she didn't care about anything except the heavy need sweeping over her.

She fisted her hands in the hem of his shirt and dragged it up, her knuckles grazing the hot flesh of smooth abs and broad chest. He groaned, the sound filled with need and hunger. It unleashed something inside her, freeing her.

Taylor broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt over his head, then dragged her mouth along the side of his jaw. His hands tightened around her waist then slid down to cup her ass, holding her close as he rocked against her. Fire unfurled deep in her belly as she felt the hard length of his erection press against her and she suddenly wanted more.

Needed more.

Hunger, hot and almost desperate, exploded inside her, obliterating all doubt. All inhibition. She nipped his shoulder and dragged her short nails through the spattering of hair in the middle of his chest. Lower, down along the flat of his stomach to the waistband of his jeans. She reached for the button with trembling fingers, popped it open and tugged the zipper down then reached inside. Her fingers curled around the hard length of his cock, stroking him.

The breath caught in his chest, escaped on a long moan as his head fell back. Taylor watched him through glazed eyes, power washing over her as he clenched his jaw tighter with each stroke. She was doing this to him. She was the reason his chest rose and fell with deep gulping breaths. She was the reason his cock hardened even more in her hand.

She lowered her mouth and rained kisses along his chest, the heat of his flesh searing her lips. She ran her tongue across one flat nipple, heard his swift intake of breath and did it again. Lower, tracing the faint line of dark hair that ran down his stomach.

She released his hold him and dropped to her knees, grabbed the waistband of his jeans and tugged the denim down past his hips. She glanced up, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes as she took him into her mouth. He gasped then groaned, the sound long and deep and hungry as his hands curled into her hair.

"Taylor. Christ." His hips rocked in a slow rhythm as she pulled him deeper into her mouth. Licking, sucking. Harder. Faster. Spurred on by a hunger that burned deep and hot inside her. Making her want. Need. Crave.

His fingers tightened in her hair and she waited, anticipation of his climax spiraling deep inside her. She'd never done this before, not like this, had never wanted to before. But she wanted to now. More than she could have ever imagined.

But Chuckie pulled away, his breathing harsh and ragged. He leaned down, his mouth closing over hers as he pulled her to her feet. She sighed in disappointment then gasped in surprise when he pinned her against the door. He pulled her hands over her head and held them in place with one hand, his other moving down to undo her jeans. She shimmied against him, heat spiraling through her as he dragged her pants down. Then his hand dipped between her legs and his fingers slipped inside her and it was her turn to gasp.

"Christ, Tay-Tay. You're so fucking wet." His words were nothing more than a hoarse growl, filled with need and wonder. She moaned, unable to speak, unable to do anything but feel as his fingers slid in and out of her. Her hips moved, searching for more, silently begging.

Chuckie released her hands and bent forward, dragging the jeans and her underwear down her legs. He yanked off one shoe and sock, freed her leg, then stood back up as he reached behind him and pulled something out of his pocket.

A condom, she realized. He reached between them, sheathed himself, then stroked her clit and slid two fingers inside once more. Stroking, deep and hard, dragging her to the edge and holding her there with an unspoken promise of what was still to come.

Then his mouth was on hers again, hot and wet and demanding, his tongue thrusting against hers as he lifted her. She gasped in surprise, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Wrap your legs around me."

"But—"

"Now. Do it." His harsh command unleashed something deep inside her, some strange primal need she didn't understand. Taylor wrapped her legs around his waist, felt him lift her even higher.

And then he was inside her, stretching her, filling her. Deep, so deep. He drove into her, hard and fast. Her head dropped back against the door, her lungs aching with the need to draw air as he plunged into her over and over.

Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, clinging, searching for something to hold her steady as she rocked against him, meeting each thrust with a hunger she didn't understand. Sensation built deep inside, coiling, tightening, promising.

Shattering.

The breath left her on a small scream, shrill and desperate. She was on fire. Flying. Exploding into a million shards. She felt a hand cup her cheek, heard Chuckie's voice, low and harsh, but couldn't make out the words. And then his mouth was on hers, anchoring her in place as the fiery storm washed over her. His hold on her tightened as he drove into her, over and over, sending her deeper into the tempest. Then his own body tensed and stilled, his growl long and low as his own climax exploded between them. Taylor clung to him, swallowing each of his harsh breaths as time slowed around them.

He eased his mouth away from hers, sucked in a deep breath, then dropped his head against her shoulder. Minutes slipped by, filled with nothing more than the sound of their mingled breathing.

Chuckie finally raised his head, his deep blue gaze meeting hers. He pressed a quick kiss against the corner of her mouth then leaned back, a small grin teasing the edges of his mouth. "I'm not sure I can move after that."

Taylor tried to fight her own grin then gave up. "Me either."

"Good. We can just stay like this all night."

"I don't think that's going to work."

Chuckie rested his forehead against her shoulder and grunted. "Why not?"

"Because it's not very practical."

"Since when do you care about practical?"

"I don't." She turned her head and nipped his earlobe, smiling when a shudder went through him. "But I'm thinking the bed will be more comfortable."

Chuckie opened one eye and watched her, his gaze warming something deep inside her. "Is that an invitation?"

She almost asked for what, but stopped herself at the last minute. Yes, it was an invitation to the stay the night. But was it more than that? Is that what he was asking? Or was she reading too much into it? Taylor didn't think so, but now wasn't the time for that conversation—if they even needed to have that conversation.

So she simply smiled and nodded and did her best to ignore the way her heart fluttered in her chest when Chuckie smiled back.