Rehashing last night in my head, I felt my cheeks heat as I clearly recalled asking him to do me, but replace the do with a fuck, and I’d never said that to a guy before.

All I remembered was falling asleep facing him, talking about omelets and deals, and now all I was thinking about was how . . . how great our first time was.

Our first time.

I ran the tips of my fingers over his still hand, tracing the strong muscles and bones. I’d been fantasizing about having sex with Reece for a fairly decent amount of time. Years, really. Even though we’d gotten close to doing it almost a year ago, and even after what we did the night on the couch, none of it came close to what it was actually like with him, which was amazing.

Our first time.

That was what I was thinking when I woke up. With the way everything was last night, I’d made the decision to delay the conversation I needed to have. I had no regrets about that. It was the right choice, but I was going to drive myself crazy if I didn’t clear the—­

Reece shifted behind me without warning. His fingers curled around mine as his leg drew up between my thighs, spreading them. In under a second, his hips were pressed against my rear and his face was buried in my neck. I could feel him, hot and hard, slipping between my legs, resting where I was suddenly throbbing for him.

“Mornin,’ babe,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck as he let go of my hand and gripped my hip, pulling me back against his erection.

Biting down on my lip, I moaned. “Morning.”

His teeth caught my earlobe, and I gasped. He chuckled as he rotated his hips, pressing right against my core. My body arched all on its own, and he let go of my ear, making his way down my throat. Wow, he was frisky in the morning.

“I’m having a dilemma,” he said, voice rough with sleep and arousal.

So was I, because I was so torn between stopping him and having a much needed conversation, and seeing where this was heading.

“I really want an omelet,” he continued, nipping at my shoulder as he rolled those magical hips again. “I think I might have dreamed about that omelet.”

“Really?” I gasped.

“Yeah, babe.” He slipped his hand up my waist and then under me, cupping my breast. He squeezed gently. “But I also want to fuck you senseless.”

Oh my God.

I was so wet it was freaking ridiculous, and it didn’t help when he caught my nipple between his fingers. Okay. I really needed to focus on what was important. “Reece, I—­” A cry cut me off as he rubbed against me, hitting that spot. “Oh God . . .”