I shake my head. I assumed I would use condoms until I was married, I guess. Safer that way. But the thought of going into that pussy with nothing between us...man, she’s so tight and always sopping wet whenever we’ve touched her. I bet she feels amazing with no condom on. “How do you know she’s on the pill?”

“They’re in the bathroom. Dude. You need to pay better attention.”

Her door opens, and I forget all about Shane and my uncomfortable neck. My date of birth and social security number are probably history too.

It’s the basic cartoon outfit of Velma from Scooby, but it’s got a Shane twist. The turtleneck orange sweater is tight, accentuating her perfect round tits. And it’s cropped higher on her waist, giving me a view of the tantalizing inches of smooth skin between her tits and the waistband of her red, pleated mini-skirt. The skirt is too short, but damn if the thing that gets me isn’t her orange knee-high socks.

I want to fuck her when she’s wearing nothing but the knee-high socks. My blood rushes right to my dick. The socks and the glasses. Shane is right. They are hot.

“You look like a fuck doll,” Shane says, the awe in his voice apparent. “Velma, you are single-handedly making all my fantasies come true, and I’ve only known you for a month.”

She blushes, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and everything inside me wants to make her blush over and over. All over her body. My jaw tenses. “You look amazing. Too bad you’re not leaving the house like that,” I say gruffly.

“What? Why?” She fidgets, pulling down the skirt and failing because the damn thing won’t go any lower. “This is what she wears in the cartoon.”

Not really.

“Why do you think? Look at you. You’re every man’s horniest fantasy. I won’t be able to let you out of my sight for a second.” I step closer and her breath hitches. Good. I can practically hear her little heart beating. It gets me off.

A little anticipation. A little fear. She wants to melt—she wants me to make her melt. I’ve felt it from the start. Like she reached right inside me and turned on a switch that woke me up from a long ass slumber.

I want her to worry a little. Wonder what she’s getting into. I like the way she makes me feel. Stronger. More capable. Controlled. Smarter.

And stern.

She makes me feel so goddamned stern.

I don’t really understand it. But I want to take her in hand sometimes. Direct all her attention. Make that supercomputer she has for a brain short circuit until all she thinks about is me. No other woman has ever made me feel this way.