A million times perhaps Nora had imagined what it would be like to finally kiss him. But as they grew to be best friends she’d tried to stop thinking of him like that. Their friendship was too fragile—it rested on the edge of a knife’s blade. Her resolve to love him without making love to him wavered at times, but her profound respect for him kept dragging her wayward heart and body back in line. But as his untutored lips trembled under her lips, and his tongue tentatively sought hers, that resolve threw itself onto that blade, sliced itself in two, slid to the ground and died there, quiet and happy and without any further protest.

“What happens next?” Wesley whispered when Nora paused for a breath.

“She pulls the covers off him and kisses him from neck to hip.”

“She doesn’t take his pajamas off first?”

“He sleeps naked. So does she, of course.”

Wesley smiled at her and she saw desire in his eyes.

“Of course.”

Nora pulled back a little and watched Wesley. In the space between them hovered a question that only Wesley could answer.

He rose up and with that enviable masculine grace pulled his T-shirt off and threw it on the floor. But he’d been shirtless around her a thousand times. She waited.

Nora studied his hands for any sign of nervousness, but his fingers didn’t quiver at all as he gathered the fabric of her silk camisole in his hands and pulled it off her. She watched him study her naked curves. His gaze of innocent wonder was more erotic than any lascivious stare she’d ever received.

“Don’t look at me like that, Wes. You gave me a bath a few nights ago.”

“The bubbles were in the way.” Wesley tore his gaze from her breasts and met her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Nora fell into his arms again and their mouths met. This time the kiss wasn’t remotely tentative. Wesley’s lips sought hers again and again, his tongue found hers, his arms encircled her and pushed her onto her back. He gasped as her lips met his skin. He tilted his chin back to give her better access, access that she took eager advantage of caressing his shoulders, his chest and his collarbone with her mouth. She felt unleashed at last, finally free to touch every inch of him as she’d wanted for so long.

“How am I supposed to do this again?” he whispered in her ear.

“You just kiss her anywhere and everywhere you want to kiss her…” she said, remembering the first night she’d slept next to him, the first time she touched him.

“Anywhere and everywhere…” Wesley kissed his way from her neck to her breasts. He paused for a moment and looked at her before lowering his head and taking one of her nipples in his mouth. She arched underneath him and sighed with pleasure. He was eager but gentle. It was the strangest sensation. Her instincts told her to throw him on his back, tie him down and have her way with him. Lying there so passively while he touched and kissed her felt so unusual, as if he was making love to her in a foreign language, a beautiful language to hear, but one she didn’t understand.