Delilah kisses like she does everything else—all in. She kisses me like I’m an indulgence, a secret treat. And it turns me on so badly my movements become clumsy, fumbling and uncoordinated. I want to touch her everywhere, and my hands can’t decide where to start.

I’ve never felt like this.

By the time we part for air, we’re both panting slightly, and my hand is halfway up her shirt. A little closer, and I’m in heaven. But she pulls back, a pretty blush spreading over her cheeks.

“Damn,” she murmurs, glancing at me with a wry smile.

“Damn?” Leaden with lust, I can only lie there, trying to control myself so I don’t reach for her again.

Blushing, she shakes her head as if to pull herself out of a fog. I want to pull her back into it.

“I never thought I’d be making out with you on a lounger,” she says. “I never thought . . . realized it would be so . . .” She takes an unsteady breath. “So good.”

Her confession sends another bolt of heat through me. I cup the back of her neck and kiss her again. Harder, maybe a little fucking desperate. Because she’s killing me here.

Delilah’s leg climbs up my side, her body curling around mine. Her hands fist my shirt, the short strands of my hair. Aggressive, greedy. A grunt leaves me, and I roll to press her into the lounger, when she makes a sound of protest, and she breaks off.

Her lips are swollen and parted as she gasps. “I . . .” I suckle her lower lip. She murmurs a sound of approval, licking into my mouth before trying to talk again. “I think we should . . .”

“Stop?” I’m hard as wood; my abs actually ache with need. Take it slow. She wants slow. I’ll give her anything she wants. “Okay. Give me a minute—”

She touches my cheek and gently turns my head to meet her gaze. There’s so much heat in her toffee eyes that my mind goes blank. “Forget what I said about taking it slow. I want you now.”

It takes me a second to catch up. But my dick immediately pushes at the base of my shorts, trying its best to get out. This is probably the moment I should try to reassure her, tell her I’m fine with waiting. That there’s no rush. That’s not what comes out of my mouth.

“Oh, bless you.”

She laughs, the sound muffled against my lips as we tumble back, and I kiss her like I need air. “I was never any good at waiting,” she says.

I kiss along the smooth, fragrant skin of her neck, my hands filling with her sweet ass. “Never fucking change.”

She nips my earlobe. The tips of her fingers tickle my waist as she gathers up the edge of my shirt. “Take this off. Take it all off.”