And it’s just as breathtaking as before.

He kisses me like he’s been waiting to kiss me for months. It’s tentative at first, slow and savoring. His hand comes up to my jaw, tilting my head just so, and then the kiss morphs from sweet and sensual to an exploratory seduction. His tongue slides against mine and a blast of burning desire surges through me.

I wrap my arms around him, tugging him against me, needing to be closer, persuading him with tongue and lips and teeth.

The whistle sounds again.

We break apart, the group of laughing people walking around us. Alex tugs me back against him, his head resting against mine.

“Wow.” The word is a tickle on my lips and we take a minute to catch our breath. “So. Dinner? Tomorrow?”

My hands clench around his waist. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

“Wow.” He pulls back to rest his forehead against mine while we catch our breath. “You’re really good at this.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t stop.” I pull him back into me.

“Jane.” His eyes search mine. “I have to tell you something, and I really hope you won’t hate me.”

“Alex. I know.” I step into him.

“Jane, I—”

“Yes. Same. I get it. I like you too. Please kiss me.”

Every night, we kiss. And kiss and kiss. And it’s never enough. I’m constantly starved for more. More of him. More of his mouth on mine, his hands skimming my waist, being able to touch him anywhere. Well. Almost anywhere.

I press myself against him, and he slows us down to gentle pecks and touches and then breaks us apart to ask me to dinner.

And after three weeks, or more, I don’t know, time is starting to slip away, the anticipation and discovery and inferno of desire are turning into . . . desperation.

Every night I get hot and bothered and every night, Alex wants to take me to dinner. Tomorrow. Dinner. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow doesn’t exist!

I’m so horny, I can’t sleep. Eating becomes an erotic event. My eyelashes are turned on.

I wake up wanting him. All day needing him. Every night with him and still, we kiss.

I want him more than I thought was physically possible, and I know he isn’t immune, I’ve felt the proof of his arousal up close and personal. But for him, it’s always the first kiss. And when I even try to push the boundaries, I get shut down. Understandably. We haven’t even dated and Alex is . . . Alex. He wants to wait because he cares. I can’t fault him for that.

Self-induced orgasms help at first, but it’s not the same.

Alex is a gentleman in the truest sense of the word, and it’s one of the things that makes him so attractive. I don’t want him to change, but at the same time . . .