She could feel me.

Feel my desire.

And as she surveyed me, her eyes churning with want and love and need, I held absolutely still.

“Dean,” she whispered, her lips inching toward mine. “I want you.”

I wetted my lips, the breath in my lungs tightening. “Are you sure?” I asked, reaching up to cup her cheek.

She nodded. “I love you. I’m already yours and you’re already mine. DC, right?”

“DC,” I said, my voice shaking as I gently rolled her to her back. I planted a quick kiss on her lips, the buzzing current between us like an unbreakable chain.

My fingers shook slightly as I reached for the hem of the shirt she wore, but she smiled at me as I hiked it up and up until it was over her head on the floor behind me. She hadn’t bothered to put her bra on after the shower, and the sight of her…

“You’re stunning,” I whispered, leaning over her, trailing a soft line of kisses over her skin. My lips grazed over the small globes of her breasts, and farther down. I reached the sweats she wore and flashed a look up at her. “Amber?”

“Yes,” she said, her breaths coming fast as she arched off the bed, making it easier to hook my fingers in the band of the pants.

I slid them down slowly, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of her legs. Soon, the pants joined the shirt on the floor, and not long after, so did her underwear.

A groan slipped out of me at the sight of her, and she rose up, grabbing the end of my shirt and pulling it over my head. She kissed my chest, my abdomen, as I kneeled there, and I’d never been more grateful for my morning workouts in my life. Especially when she trailed her tongue along the seam of my pants, before flashing those eyes up to mine.

I read the intent in them easily enough. She was done with slow, and so was I.

I quickly hopped off the bed, ridding myself of my pants and boxer-briefs, and quickly riffled through my nightstand drawer, retrieving the foil packet from the box I’d picked up after we’d returned from the concert. I would never pressure her, but I was never going to be unprepared again.

Tearing it open, I looked at her again, lying on the bed, watching my every move. “Are you—”

“Yours, Dean,” she cut me off. “I’m sure. I want this. Want you.”

The words, the confirmation that we were in this uncharted territory together, soothed the nerves as I rolled on the condom. How could I be nervous when the girl of my dreams was ready to give me every piece of herself and me the same for her?