I glide my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands trail down my sides, thumbs dipping into the waistband of my pants.

Desire, sharp, slices through my core. I’m feeling weak in the knees again.

I roll my hips into his pelvis. He groans. He’s hard. As desperate for me as I am for him by the feel of it.

I give his hair a tug.

Plucking at my bottom lip, he says, “My bed. I’m enforcing the no-clothes policy this time.”

“Please,” I pant. “Please God yes.”

This man knows what he wants.

He wants me.

Following him up the stairs, I marvel in the feeling of knowing what I want, too.

For the first time in a long time, I feel certain.

I feel right.

I feel like myself. Caffeinated. Curious. Sexy.

And that’s kind of the best feeling of all, isn’t it?

The second we enter his bedroom, Greyson is tugging his shirt over his head. For a whole heartbeat, I get a marvelous view of his bare back. Broad shoulders that narrow to a slender waist. Muscles bunching under smooth skin that’s smattered with freckles.

I decide that backs are a criminally underrated part of the male physique.

Reaching out, I trail my finger down the furrow of his spine. Lingering one beat, then another, just above the curve of his ass.

He’s got such a nice ass.

Not like I ever had much chance to explore his body. Our encounters were always quick and to the point. Dirty, yes. Creative? Sometimes. But we never lingered. Now that I’m thinking about it, I wonder if I’ve ever been fully naked with Greyson before. One—or both—of us usually left some clothing on in the interest of expediency.

I hope that’s not the case today.

Turning his head, Greyson looks at me over his shoulder. Eyes landing on my hoodie.

“What the fuck did I say about my no-clothes policy?”

A shiver darts up my spine. He’s being growly and impatient—the villain, the werewolf—and I love it. I grab the hem of my hoodie and stride in front of him, yanking it over my head as I make for the bed.

Before I can get there, Greyson grabs me by the hand and pulls me against him. My back to his front. I suck in a breath at the delicious sensation of skin on skin.

He leans down to press a kiss to my neck, nicking me with his teeth as he hooks a finger into my bra clasp at my back. He uses his thumb to guide the clasp free, and pushes the straps of my bra over my shoulders.

It falls to the ground.

My nipples are simultaneously a little sore and screaming for attention. I reach behind me and dig my fingers into his hair again, arching a little so he takes the hint.

His palms smooth over the sides of my torso just underneath my underarms toward my front.