Leigh turned to look down at the wet courtyard through the veil of rain, trembling with a combination of nerves and cold as Brandon unlocked the door to his apartment. In two short blocks, the rain had become a downpour, and now they were completely soaked to the skin.

He opened the door, and she followed him inside, dripping water all over the Saltillo tile.

“We’re getting your floor—”

He backed her against the door, kissing her even as she heard him click the lock into place. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her breasts against him as his hand snaked under her wet sweater. He pulled the bra cup aside and cupped her breast in his warm palm. She tipped her head back as his lips slid from her mouth to her chin to her throat. He pushed up her sweater, and her wet skin instantly chilled, but then his hot mouth fastened on her nipple, making her shiver.

“Cold?” He looked up from her breast, and the heat in his gaze made her shiver again. “Take this off,” he said.

She wrestled out of the wet sweater. He tossed it over the back of a bar stool, and she peered over his shoulder at his apartment. They were standing in a small foyer beside a counter that wrapped around the kitchen. Beyond it was a living area with a big black couch and a low coffee table with a laptop computer on it.

He slid his arms around her again, and she relished the warmth of his body through the damp clothes. She pressed closer, wanting to absorb his heat as he kissed her neck and toyed with her breast, rubbing a lazy circle over the nipple with his thumb. Not breaking the kiss, he guided her back against the counter. They were still dripping water everywhere, and she pulled away to look down at the wet floor.

She glanced up, and he was watching her with an intent look that made her body tingle with anticipation. He touched her shoulder, tracing her collarbone and then the purple butterfly tattoo over her right breast. He leaned forward and kissed it softly as his fingers slid under her bra straps, and she felt a waft of cool air against her bare skin. Then he brought his mouth up to hers, leaning into her and pressing the cold dampness of his T-shirt against her breasts.

“That’s cold.”

“You’re hot,” he said against her neck, as his hands slid down her sides and over her hips and then back up again. He clasped her waist and lifted her, and she made a little yelp of surprise as he set her on the counter. She rested her hands on his shoulders as he reached around and deftly unfastened her bra, then slid it from her arms and added it to the pile draped over the bar stool.