His collarbones cut deep depressions through his skin, curving in a delicate way so completely at odds with the rest of his very indelicate self. Perry is a steam train. A whirlwind. Inertia. The kind of force that can’t be stopped. Then there, hovering innocently over his chest, it feels like a calm secret just for me.

Before I even know what I’m doing, I lift my hand and run my fingertips over his collarbone.

Perry shudders, hot exhale puffing over my hair. It pulls my attention back to him and the way his eyes are boring into me.

“What about our fourth?” he whispers.

I try to think through the fog of lust, struggling to remember how many times we actually kissed. “Did we kiss four times?”

Slowly, he shakes his head. “No. But I’m sure if we did, that fourth time would be even better.”

Fourth time.

His tongue swipes his parted bottom lip, and I watch the movement hungrily. My self-respect is long gone as the need bubbling in my gut takes over. I’m so frustratingly, embarrassingly attracted to him that all it takes is the offer to kiss me again in order to get my cock moving.

“I’d never use you,” he whispers. “We might not know each other very well, but I promise I’d never do that.”

And while we might not know know each other, in the small amount of time we’ve spent together, it’s like my body has learned more than my brain ever could. Like my instincts have latched onto him as a good person, and that’s fact, and everything Perry does keeps confirming it.

“I’ve heard fourth kisses are usually the best,” I say.

Pure lust flares in his eyes, and the sight is addictive. I want to yank him close, press our mouths together, but the anticipation wrapping around us is driving my need higher, and I’m not sure I’m ready yet. Last night has played on my mind all day; a second time will take over my life.

His grip on my hand tightens, and I wish it was around my cock.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mutters. “I just know that I really, really want to do it.”

“Then do it.”

I see the exact moment his resolve hardens, and my excitement spikes at the inevitable kiss.

At the way he moves closer.

How his breathing gets deeper.

The way my lips tingle, ready for him to⁠—

“All clear.”

We both jump at Lars’s voice as he strides into the cabin.

The moment around us shatters.

Perry tugs his hand back.

My want screams in protest, and it takes every last scrap of willpower not to curse Lars out.

But he just walks over to the small fridge, grabs a can of Coke, and pops it open.

“So, now they’re gone, what’s our next move?” he asks.