He gifts me with a rare, full grin. “It’s hot, knowing no other guy has been inside you.” Whatever expression I’m wearing amuses him more. “I’ve never been with a virgin though, so tell me if it’s too much. Okay?”

“Okay.” I whisper the word. I’m nervous. I’m also excited. Aroused.

Gray dips his head and kisses me. It’s just as overwhelming as the last two times. He’s a drug, one that overcomes everything else. I can’t think. Can barely breathe. All that feels concrete is the soft glide of his tongue against mine. I make a soft, breathy whimper that doesn’t even sound like me.

My hands slide down his back. His whole body tenses when I reach the waistband of his boxer briefs. I slip my fingers inside and wrap my hand around his hard length. His jaw tightens, and his eyes close as I grip the smooth, hot skin, moving my hand down to the base and then back to the flared head.

Gray’s cock bobs free of his black boxers. A small gasp I don’t intend to let out is the only sound in the silent room as I give him a slow, gentle tug. This part, I’ve done before. It’s just often been rushed, sometimes sloppy. The haze of alcohol has often coated my movements. It’s never been like this. I’ve never touched someone so deliberately. No guy has ever watched me touch him so intimately, the way Gray is doing right now. It’s erotic. Intense. I can feel the way my body is throbbing with anticipation, imagining how it will feel inside of me. I’m holding the evidence of how it’s affecting him.

Trepidation mixes with expectancy as I memorize how masculine and thick and long he is.

Holy fuck. Gray Phillips grew up all right.

“I’m well aware this sounds like a line, but are you sure you’ll fit?”

He chuckles as he slips one hand under the elastic confines of my sports bra, cupping my bare breast. “I’m up to the challenge.”

This easygoing, lighthearted side of Gray is one I’ve only caught glimpses of since he hit puberty. Most of the times we’ve interacted in the past decade, he’s been moody and serious.

He tugs the stretchy fabric up and over my head. Fresh warmth sears my flushed skin, sinking into the flesh like a fever.

“Fuck, Evie.” His voice sounds like the scrape of sandpaper, low and rough.

His boxers get kicked off, and my underwear disappears. And just like that, we’re both completely naked. There’s nothing but heated appreciation in his gaze, and it eases a little of the anxiety balled up in my chest about any comparisons to other women he’s been with.