“Did you reach a verdict?” Luke asked, voice low and strained.

“Not yet,” she teased, the boldness winning as she slid their hands into her panties. “I woke up before I could decide.”

“Let’s see if I can help you make up your mind,” he murmured. He caressed and teased, his clever fingers tracing every intimate line, making her ache. Making her want. Making her need.

Julia moaned, hands dropping to her sides, fisting in the sheets as she gave him control, let him take over. She gasped when the rough pad of his thumb brushed over her clit. He stroked her there, back and forth, round and round. Slow, tender circles that made the tension build in deliciously agonizing spirals.

There was nothing clueless about the way he touched her. The way he seemed to learn her body so quickly, as if every twitch of her hips was a lesson, every sound she made a clue. She spread her thighs wider, wanting him closer. Wanting more.

In an instant, he was giving her exactly what she asked for, increasing the pressure of his thumb while his fingers slipped inside, stroking deep within her, fast and hard and sure, until Julia was gasping for breath, whimpering as her release rolled over her in a tsunami of sensation that left her limp, legs trembling with aftershocks.

Julia closed her eyes, the carnal bliss seeping into her bones. Once her heartbeat finally slowed and her breathing returned to almost normal, she glanced up to see him propped on one elbow, staring down at her.

“Well?” He rested his chin on in his hand, the picture of scholarly curiosity. “What do you think?”

“I think that was so much better than my dream.” She lolled beneath him, a sated rag doll.

Luke’s mouth quirked in a crooked grin. His gray eyes drifted over her, a look of such satisfaction and joy on his face that Julia felt another wave of emotion roll through her.

But this feeling wasn’t lust. It was something else. Something more complex. A steel band wrapped around Julia’s chest and squeezed. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but lie there, counting her heartbeats as they hammered against her ribs.

Julia had never believed the kind of moments that happened in movies could happen in real life. The kind where your heart stopped when you caught the gaze of that one person across the room. The kind of moment that made you feel all happy and silly inside. She didn’t believe they could be real because she wasn’t even sure if love was real.

That wasn’t it, exactly. She knew love was real. The kind of love she felt for her friends and family. But deep down, she wasn’t sure “true love” was real—the kind that made you say and do ridiculous over-the-top things the way people did in romantic comedies.