Dean's abs ripple as he tugs off his shirt overhead, tossing it aside, and he sheds his joggers and black boxer briefs just as quickly. He's the first one naked for a change, and it is a spectacular sight to behold. I could stare at him all day, tracing the indents of each muscle with my fingertips, and still be left wanting more.

The cocky grin he flashes me tells me he knows it, too.

He sinks back onto the couch and tugs me into him, helping me pull off my sweater and tank top before capturing my lips again. Immediately, desire stokes within me, and I begin to fall into him, like I always do when he kisses me.

Before I can get too distracted, I tear myself away from him and trail my lips down his neck. He lets out a low, appreciative sound, palm flattening against the small of my back.

Sliding off the couch, I kneel between his leg and skim my hands down the deep V-cuts in the sides of his torso, deliberately neglecting where he wants me to touch him most. My lips land on his defined upper abs and my breasts brush against his erection. His entire body tenses, hips tilting upward reflexively, and a sense of satisfaction washes over me at his response.

I glance up to find Dean watching me, jaw tense and gaze molten with desire.

Finally, I wrap my fingers around his shaft, and he sucks in a breath. His cock is beautiful. I've never thought that before. Usually, they're kind of all the same; a means to an end. But it's thick and symmetrical, skin smooth and soft, and it does magical, wonderful things when it's inside me.

I slowly run my tongue up the length, wrapping my lips around the tip without sinking lower.

"Brooke." It's half-plea, half-command, and I feel the words reverberate between my legs.

I take him deeper into my mouth and he lets out a low, throaty groan. When I pull back and take him in again, his fingers sink into my hair, but he's not trying to control my movements. His touch is gentle; affectionate.

Caressing his shaft with my tongue, I find a steady pattern, pumping him with my hand and mouth. His hold my hair tightens, head falling back against the couch, and a wave of heat courses through my body.

I always considered blowjobs a chore. Something I did to please Travis—or, more accurately, get him to stop bugging me. Right now, I think I might be enjoying this more than Dean is. It's the opposite of degrading. It's empowering to have this strong, powerful body completely at my mercy. Especially when it's usually the other way around.

I take him in my mouth again, as deep as I can go, and he hits the back of my throat. A tortured sound escapes his lips, abs tensing.

"You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock," he says, voice strained. "But I really need to fuck you now."

Teasing him is way too enjoyable, so I repeat the same thing I just did.

"Condom, baby," he manages, tugging at my hair. "Get a fucking condom."

Releasing my hold on him, I begin to stand up, but he grabs my face and yanks me into him for a brutal kiss that sends me spinning. By the time he releases me, I think I might be just as worked up as he is.

I head into my bedroom and quickly grab a condom from the nightstand. When I return to the living room, I find more than six feet of gorgeous, naked male sprawled out on my couch—with his fist wrapped around his shaft, his body openly ready and wanting. It's unabashed; masculine; and incredibly hot.

Dean's gaze fixes on me, laser-focused, as I approach. I hand him the condom but he doesn't tear it open yet. It's clear the short break has given him the chance to compose himself.

"Take off your clothes, Brooke."

While I like to think I'm reasonably good at stripping, it's challenging to make the act of removing leggings sexy. I do the best I can in the circumstances and slide them down, nudging them aside with one foot. That still leaves me in my bra and underwear, and I take my time, slowly sliding each bra strap down my shoulder.

"You're every fantasy I've ever had." He strokes himself, veins in his forearm rippling as it flexes. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. "Keep going."

With a flick of the wrist, my bra comes undone and joins the rest of my clothes on the floor. Dean tears open the condom wrapper and pinches the tip. He stops, dark hair tumbling over his forehead as he glances up at me.

"You have two seconds to take those off before I rip them off myself."

In a flash, I'm staddling him again, fully naked. He guides me down on him, hips lifting to meet me halfway as he buries himself inside me, and we both let out a low groan. I sink down, taking him in fully, and pleasure envelops me from head to toe, already halfway to the finish line.

"Dean." It's a breathy plea on my lips.

His grip on me tightens, grinding me down against him. "Say my name again."

"Dean, please. There—" With a few more waves of movement, my breath turns into tiny pants and I fall apart on top of him, body trembling.

Dean waits for me to recover, running his hands up and down my arms. When I start moving again, his hand slides over my ass, gripping possessively. Then his fingers slide underneath me, spreading wetness over the opening, and I tense slightly. His caress feels good, pleasurable even, but I also had one failed, unpleasant experience in this area before.

He pulls back and his eyes meet mine; they're dark, glazed with desire, but there's a hint of tenderness beneath it, too. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I—I don't know." Suddenly, I feel more vulnerable than ever. I know he's a lot more experienced than I am.

"I won't hurt you."

"Okay," I whisper. "Keep going."

His thumb slides inside me and I see stars. "Oh, God." I gasp at the sudden, new sense of fullness, and nearly come again on the spot.

My lips crash down on his, driven by a craving to have all of him. I start moving again and his other hand brackets my hip, helping guide me up and down. Pleasure builds and needy cries escape my lips as I get closer to the edge again.

Dean lets out a low, feral growl. "Good girl. Come again for me."

Those words, combined with everything he's doing to my body, make everything that's been building up in me explode. His body tenses beneath me, lifting up to slam into me even harder and hitting places I didn't even know existed. He crushes me against him as we come together, falling to a heap of sated exhaustion against the couch.

*

After cleaning up and getting dressed, we end up snuggled together beneath a blanket on my couch. A bowl of Chicago Mix popcorn sits on the coffee table in front of us, half-eaten as recovery fuel from our mindblowing sex.

I couldn't even walk after what he did to me. My legs are still like jelly, body still boneless. He's beaten out even my best vibrator by a mile.

But more than that, he's gotten beneath my defenses and started to work his way into my heart. Or maybe he was there all along. I'm not sure which explanation is scarier.

Dean shifts his weight, turning to face me, and his expression is unexpectedly terse. "I think Vidya knows."

My heart does cartwheel as the high from earlier crashes down around my feet. "Vidya knows...what?"

"About us."

Crap.

"Did you tell her?" I grab the bowl of Chicago Mix, cramming a handful in my mouth. Sugar is the only solution to a situation like this.

For a moment, he looks almost sheepish in a way that is entirely endearing. "She started asking questions at poker night and I guess I was easy to read."

Dean being easy to read would be a first, ever, but secretly it makes me feel kind of good—like he couldn't hide the way he feels for me. It gives me a fighting sense of hope that, somehow, his feelings for me might be real.

"Do you think she's going to tell Brendan?" Looking down, I carefully pick out another piece of caramel from the bowl for optimal blood sugar saturation.

"Honestly? No, I don't think she will. But we should."

Part of me knows he's right; we should tell Brendan. But the other part of me is scared. Not just scared, terrified. I'm living at his old place, virtually rent-free because of my cashflow problems, and now I'm taking his best friend? Or potentially ruining their friendship if this goes south? Irresponsible Brooke strikes again.

I want to say Brendan would be happy for us, but I'm not sure he should be. I'm still not entirely convinced this isn't a bad idea. While Dean's been saying and doing all the right things, he has a nonexistent attention span with women. His track record speaks for itself. There's a good chance he could be sick of me within a month. And then what? If that happens, it would be even worse if everyone else knew.

"Can we wait a little longer?"

A frown crosses his face. "What do you think we need to wait for?"

"Just to let things...solidify between us. It's still new." It's not that I don't think we will last, it's that I'm scared we won't.

His frown deepens as he parses out what I just said. "Are we not on the same page, here?" he sets down the bowl, taking my hands in his. His rough, warm palms envelop mine and my body instantly softens.

"Which page is that?" I chew my bottom lip.

"The one where I waited a long time for this and don't intend to fuck it up."

I nod slowly. Thing is, I do believe that he thinks that right now; but it doesn't make it true, either. Even if he's not expecting to cut and run, that doesn't mean he won't change his mind later.

Plus, after what happened with Travis and Jade, I have serious doubts about my ability to accurately judge people. Never in a million years did I think Jade would turn her back on me and betray me like that. It rocked me like a breakup. Worse than any breakup I've ever gone through, actually. It still hurts. I don't want to be wrong again.

Panic creeps into my throat again. "I just need a bit more time."

"I can give you that." Dean squeezes my hands. "But sooner or later, we're going to have to come clean. I think we should do it before we have to be around each other all night at the bachelor and bachelorette party. Keeping my hands off of you around everyone is going to be fucking torture. Honestly, I can't guarantee I won't slip up by mistake."

That's still two weeks away. Not a ton of time, but maybe enough for me to get my head straight and accurately gauge what's going on.

"I'm on board with that," I tell him. "Before the party it is."

"Now," he says, brushing his lips against my temple, "let's find a pack of cards so I can teach you how demolish everyone else at poker."

Well, that was a steamy scene. It took a long time to write!

Edited