“I want to watch you paint,” I tell her, “and light up from within. I want nights at home, holding you on the couch with nothing else to do. I want whatever you’ll give me and then some, because I’m greedy. Because every time you show me a new part of you, I want more.”

I hold her eyes, seeing my own vulnerability reflected back. “I want you.”

“Well,” she says unsteadily, slipping her fingers through my hair. “I meant sex-wise, but that was much more romantic.”

We both laugh until laughs become groans at the profound pleasure of our bodies finding each other, even through layers of clothing. I’m lost to the curve of her hips, the warmth between her thighs that I press myself into.

Feeling me, Bea groans. “Oh wow, James.”

“Wow? What? What is it?”

“Just. Lube. I always need it, but with that bludgeon you’ve got, I am really going to need it.”

A furious blush hits my cheeks. “Beatrice.”

“What?” she says. “You have to know what heat you’re packing down there.”

I don’t answer that. “I have lube, same kind I saw you buy at the store that night. I figured you’d need it.”

“Did you?” She grins. “You sure you aren’t here only for the butt stuff?”

“I’m going to kiss you if you don’t stop saying things like that.”

“That is not a disincentive, James.”

I kiss her hard. Bea wraps her arms around me and kisses me back harder. I pull away, gasping for air.

“See?” she says. “Not a disincentive.” Beaming, she clasps my hand and clutches it against her chest. “You are wonderful. You bought my preferred brand of lube just for tonight.”

“Well.” I reach to adjust my watch but frown, realizing it’s not there. “I’d hoped not just for tonight. For many nights. And for both places. You have one at your place. This one’s for mine.”

Bea pushes my chest gently, and I let her guide me onto my back on the bed. She gets on her knees, straddling my lap, and slides her hands beneath my sweatshirt. “Have I told you how cute you are? How perfectly thoughtful and kind and obscenely cute you are?”

“Cute?” I wrinkle my nose. “I was hoping for a more robust adjective than that.”

She laughs. “I don’t have your twenty-point Scrabble word vocabulary, Jamie. But you’re right. I’m sure I can do better.” A kiss to my throat makes my hands tighten around her waist.

“Gentle,” she whispers. “Strong. Caring,” she says against my jaw. Her hands find mine and lace them together, lifting them above my head as she rests her body over mine. “Handsome. Funny. Smart. Thoughtful.”

She nips my neck, a quick drag of teeth, then chases it with her tongue, making my hips lurch off of the bed. “Really. Fucking. Sexy,” she whispers. “How’s that?”