Della’s pinky finger brushed against the hard ridge of his arousal, and the groan that slipped from his mouth sounded almost painful. He needed this. She brushed again.

“Oh…kay, no. No, no.” He slid one hand over his erection.

Della looked all the way up his big, tense body and smiled, unperturbed. “Yes.”

Shaking his head, he reached for her, hauling her up his body, his mouth landing on hers so hot and hard Della temporarily forgot every single thing she’d ever known or been, morphing into some kind of single-cell organism whose only purpose in life was to kiss this man. But her hips soon grew restless again, the press of his erection reminding her of her original purpose.

Breaking away, Della placed both palms on his chest and levered herself upright, grinding the apex of her thighs against the apex of his, causing a shower of bliss that had them both groaning.

Everything twinged inside her, and Tucker hissed “Della” as his hands clamped on her hips to keep her still. “Show some mercy, woman.”

“Tuck,” she said, half moan, half pant. “I don’t want to keep lying here like a damn starfish and just take, take, take. Let me”—she ground against him again for good measure—“help you with that.”

The muscles in his neck corded, and his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of her hips. She went to rub herself against him again, but his hands held her fast. Or as fast as they could. There was still enough flexion in her hips to create a little friction between them.

“God, you’re so big,” she muttered, her eyes practically rolling back in her head as her internal muscles pulled tight. “Please tell me you at least do something about this when you get home from here.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he panted. “I’m fine.”

Della’s eyes fluttered open, her hips ceasing the paltry degree of flexion they’d been able to manage. “Wait. You don’t…touch yourself?”

The muscles in Tucker’s neck and shoulders were corded tight. “No.”

What? “But…I thought all men did that.”

And with far less provocation than poor Tucker. Hell, the guy had been getting her naked and getting her off for weeks while ignoring his own needs. Surely he didn’t enjoy playing such an extreme game of chicken with his testicles?

“We do.”

“But…not you?”

“Not now, no.”

He isn’t going home and jerking off? “Because you’ve given it up for Lent? Or because of me?”

He laughed. “Definitely the second one.”

“What the hell, Tucker?” Della didn’t understand what was happening. “Am I not good enough for your spank bank?”

He looked perplexed for a moment. “What?” His brow furrowed. “I can’t think of anyone else but you. I just… It feels disrespectful.”

Della’s pulse spiked. What the? “Oh, fuck that.”