Mouth still locked on hers, I took a few steps back, walking her over to the bed. Grabbing the backs of her thighs, I pulled her down with me so she was sitting in my lap, straddling me. Her legs spanned my hips, hair tumbling all over the place in a curtain.

Having her on top meant she would hopefully feel more in control. But the view was phenomenal too.

Bailey pulled back, gold-flecked eyes meeting mine. They were endless, captivating.

She let out a little gasp as I lifted my hips slightly, moving against her. Dipping closer, she found my lips again, her confidence growing. In response, I gripped her calves, squeezing, my hands sliding up to her thighs. The mental to-do list I’d created was multiplying by the minute, like kissing every inch of her body. At this point, I could fill an encyclopedia with ideas.

She tangled her hands in my hair, tugging, and I drew in a shuddering breath, grasping her tighter. Sliding under her shirt, I clasped her smooth, bare skin and moved my hands up her ribcage, stopping just below her breasts.

She kissed me again, deeper this time, and arched her back, grinding against me. It was delicious torture. Neither of us was wearing much, just two thin pairs of shorts, which meant she could feel exactly how much I wanted her in the moment. I wanted to touch her, to slip my hand beneath her waistband and find out if she was as wet as I suspected, but I wouldn’t push it.

Usually, making out was a means to an end for me. But doing nothing but kissing her was fan-fucking-tastic. Maybe I was going soft. Except I was hard as hell and about to end up with a major case of blue balls.

Still worth it.

Bailey broke our kiss, inhaling sharply. “Wait.” Her cheeks were flushed pink, breath heavy.

“You okay?”

“More than okay.” She gave me a shy smile. “But I don’t want us to get carried away.”

I nodded. I couldn’t disagree with that. If she wanted me right now, it would be almost impossible to say no.

“It’s pretty late, anyway.”

“Yeah.” Bailey sighed and rested her head on my shoulder. Her breath was warm against my neck, which only made me harder. “I was up early.”

“Me too,” I said, rubbing her back. “Breakfast skate.” On a weekend. Like I said, Coach Miller loved to fuck with me.

She crawled off me and onto the bed, getting under the covers on the far side. I slid in beside her and rearranged the pillows.

“Come here.” I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer.

She yawned and snuggled in against me. She radiated warmth, along with the scents of her perfume and shampoo, which together created something so delicious that I wanted to bury my face in her neck and inhale her all night long.