Both Rowan and I stood in front of the closed door, his arms around me, listening to the crunch of tires against gravel as our two best friends left.

I didn’t want to ask if he was going to leave too, because I didn’t want him to leave. I knew I was supposed to want him to leave. To create boundaries, hold on to the independence I’d only recently won back from a man. But I didn’t. And I felt guilty about that.

So, I just stood there, next to him, acting like if I didn’t move, I wouldn’t have to make any kind of decisions, act like a responsible adult.

Rowan did not seem to be struggling with any of the same kind of issues.

Luckily.

He whirled me around as the sound of Kip’s truck engine retreated into the night.

My heartbeat quickened as my eyes met his, full of hunger.

“I fuckin’ love your curves,” he rumbled, running his hands down the sides of my body.

Despite everything we’d done, the intimate way he knew my body, I still trembled at the delicate touch.

“Good,” I gulped, finding it hard to hold on to coherent thought. “Curves are an occupational hazard. Don’t you know you should never trust a skinny baker?”

Rowan didn’t respond to my joke. His hands drifted to the bottom of my sweater, then he pulled it up.

I lifted my arms in compliance, my nipples already pebbling, my pussy tingling with need.

From the look on Rowan’s face, from the way his body flexed with need, and from the delicious shape of his cock pressing against his jeans, I thought that he was going to yank me to him. Kiss me. Lift me up and carry me upstairs to my bedroom.

I would’ve been partial to any and all of those things. To be honest, I felt as if I might go insane if he didn’t do one or all of those things.

Except he didn’t.

He stepped back so his hands were no longer on me, so I could no longer feel the heat of his body.

“Stay there,” he growled as I took a step toward him on instinct.

My body froze in place at his command, my heartbeat thrashing, panties already soaked.

“Take off your bra,” Rowan ordered.

Shaking, I reached my arms around to unclasp my bra, the lace tumbling onto the ground beside my feet.

Rowan’s eyes zeroed in on my nipples, rubbing at his lips with his entire hand. They ached as they hardened even further.

“Pants,” he uttered, his voice guttural.

Again, my hands shook as I obeyed, stepping out of my pants.

“Panties.” The word was said the second I straightened.

His gaze was a physical thing. Inescapable. Unyielding.

My body was strained, coiled with the need for release as I stood there, in my foyer, completely naked, him in front of me fully clothed while devouring me with his eyes.

There was no room for self-consciousness. For doubt about the way my body curved, dimpled. No, I couldn’t doubt an inch of myself when Rowan was staring at me like that.