Holden’s expression softens, his fingers tracing the curve of my hipbone. “Let me make you feel good.”

I nod and wriggle, craving his touch as much as it intimidates me. I’m not sure how people do this with strangers. I’ve never been more aware of the years of shared history between me and him. The fact he raced me on the monkey bars and used to watch movies with me after Sydney fell asleep. He’s also the only guy I’ve ever fantasized about, the face I picture when I touch myself where his mouth is heading now.

When his tongue swipes my clit, it feels like a bolt of electricity. It’s a thousand times more powerful than my own fingers. A hundred times stronger than rubbing against him with two layers of fabric between us. It’s pleasure like I’ve never experienced, so potent and hot it wipes away any uncertainty instantly. I bite the inside of my cheek and dig my fingers into the couch to keep from crying out and possibly waking Sydney upstairs.

My legs fall open as wide as possible, allowing him full access. My hips lift, begging for his tongue. I’ll never, ever forget the way he looks right now. Hungry and focused—on me.

“Take off your shirt.” I barely recognize the rasp of my own voice. It sounds hoarse and needy. Desperate.

Holden sits up, lips glossy. He unbuttons the flannel slowly, teasingly. I hook my knee over the back of the couch and bite my bottom lip, teasing him right back.

His white t-shirt disappears much more quickly, and then he’s back between my legs. This time, I can see the powerful bunch of his shoulders. The bulge of his bicep, as he grips my thigh.

An orgasm hits me suddenly, with the force of a tsunami. I can’t contain the moan that escapes as a hot flush works its way across my entire body, accompanying the pleasure rushing through my system. It goes on and on, wringing me out until I slump against the cushions, limbs loose and limp.

I’m not tired, though. And I’m very much aware of Holden on the other end of the couch, running a hand through his hair as he watches me with a satisfied smile. If he had any doubts about the fact I’m insanely attracted to him, I don’t think he does any longer.

I sit up slowly, enjoying the lingering buzz humming through my body. Holden looks like a fantasy, leaning back with his legs spread, wearing just a pair of sweatpants. My shirt falls down as I move toward him, the brush of cotton against my sensitized skin impossible not to notice.

Holden’s eyes turn hooded as my fingers trace the ridged muscles that cover his abdomen.