I roll my eyes and wrap part of the sheet in my left hand. I give my attention back to the manuscript and find my place. “‘Robert moved towards her at an agonizing pace, using every ounce of his self-control to keep from taking her that very second. Charlotte was equally tortured, and a frustrated moan slipped from her kiss-swollen lips.’”

I look up from the manuscript. Ryan steps forward and raises an eyebrow. He’s daring me.

Saddle up, cowboy.

I close my eyes and unleash the best come-hither moan I’ve ever attempted. I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I can see Ryan’s shoulder muscles tense up in the aftermath.

I’m encouraged enough to continue, “‘That was his undoing. Robert could wait no longer. His heart pounded in his chest as desire burst through his veins like liquid fire. He tore at his shirt, ripping it open in his haste to remove the unwanted garment.’”

I haven’t even finished the last sentence when Ryan pulls his T-shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. My eyes lock with his, as they always do, and in that moment, I’m struck with a sudden sense of clarity. This isn’t some fantasy and it’s not my overactive imagination. Ryan is here. He’s here and he’s smiling and why shouldn’t we do this if we want to? My nerves begin to fall away as I close my eyes for a brief second.

“Is me without a shirt on that scary to look at?” Ryan asks. “Or is it just too arousing for you? That, I’m willing to accept.”

I open my eyes and glower at his smirking, half-clad form. Afraid that I’ll stare, I move the pages close to my face—so close that the top paper folds down and bumps against my nose.

I straighten it out and read on, “‘He needed her skin on his with nothing between them. Needed it more than he needed anything in his life. Without pause, Robert lowered himself onto the bed to lean over the perfect beauty writhing beneath him.’”

I move the pages away from my face, and Ryan pauses as he looks at me.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

His question hangs in the air for what feels like forever until I shake my head no. I then concentrate on even breathing as he carefully lowers himself onto the bed. He braces his hands on the mattress, framing my face and pushing up so he’s hovering above me. With the manuscript still in my right hand, I extend my arm to the side and continue reading.