Damien’s vision blurred, his tongue suddenly three sizes too big. Damn, his grandmother was right. She had always told him if he stared at a naked woman, he’d go blind. At twelve, he’d scoffed, sure she was just trying to scare him off girls. But now he had to rethink things. Mandy was so astonishingly beautiful it seemed actually possible he could lose his sight if he looked too long.

“Thank you, God,” he said, voice hoarse, throat tight.

She turned, a wicked little smile on her face as she reached for his crotch. “Are you praying?”

“Yes, I think I am.” The swivel she’d done had been too swift, he hadn’t gotten a good view of the front of her, but he was compensated by her sidling right up to him with full skin-on-skin contact.

Her breasts crushed against him as she bent down a little and he shuddered, stealing up to cup the fullness of her flesh, test its weight, stroke over her nipple. Her flesh was hot, her hair corkscrewing in the ever-present humidity, and she smelled so seductive, like chocolate and desire and coconut sunscreen.

“Oh, babe,” he said on a satisfied sigh, skimming his lips over her shoulder as she edged his pants down his thighs. “You don’t know how good this is for me.”

“Tell me.” Mandy reached into his boxer briefs and cupped his erection.

He sucked in his breath. “Very, very good. If it feels any better you’ll be feeling it in your hand.”

“Oh!” Her hand jerked on him, and when she glanced up at him, her cheeks were pink.

“Too crude? Sorry, sorry.” Just don’t stop, holy hell. She was holding him lightly, almost absentmindedly.

He ground his teeth, part frustration and part excitement that he was going to learn all the things Mandy liked. He looked forward to finding all the ways to arouse her, all the hot spots he could stroke or kiss or suck until she was mindless, screaming his name.

But first she was going to make him scream. Her fingers brushed over him again, a nothing little touch of torture.

“Hmmm?”

“I embarrassed you by being too forthcoming, no pun intended.” Oh, dear God, if she didn’t move her hand or do something with it, he was going to grab and grind it against him, and give away that he was losing control, letting his emotions and needs gush over and drive him.

“Oh, Damien, no.” She shook her head, wetting her bottom lip. “I was embarrassed because I had a sudden desperate desire to lay you on the bed and climb on you, and do, well, you know, to…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Ride you.”

Yee-haw. Damien’s hand shot out, grabbing hers, and pressed them both against his erection, rocking a little to ease his suffering. “Do it.”