much on the walk back to our apartment. Not because we didn't have anything to say. There was so much I could say, so much I wanted to. But if I had to guess, there was only one thing on both of our minds at the moment. Because the closer we got to home, the quicker Collins' pace became.

Ironically, she paused as soon as we entered through the front door, hesitant to make a move in any one direction.

Suddenly shy, baby girl? I think I can fix that.

I closed the door behind us and gave Collins a little pat on the ass to get her going and provide some reassurance.

"My bed." I began leisurely rolling my sleeves while my gaze roamed over her. "I'll be there in a second to take off that dress."

Collins started toward my room—but not without peeking over her shoulder at me. "You know...I can take off the dress myself, Beau."

"Not the fucking point," I said with a grunt.

I wanted to strip her and then love her and then fuck her until the neighbors hated us. And I had to do it all in an hour so we could still make an appearance at Julian's.

I heard Collins's breathy laugh before she disappeared, and I quickly began searching for the paintbrushes that she promised were here. It didn't take too long to locate them; Collins had an open package sitting next to her bed of what looked like brand new brushes. Grabbing a thin one, I went back to the kitchen to run it under the faucet and then flicked it against the side of the sink.

When I strode into my room with the paintbrush tucked behind my ear, I stopped in my tracks.

"What the hell—"

Collins sat on the bed, and the little tease that she was did not wait for me to take off her dress. Goddamn, I'd been looking forward to inching slowly underneath that filmy, black thing. But still, this was hard to complain about—no, this was just...hard.

This plus me equaled hard.

"You don't like it?"

Collins ran a finger playfully along the cup of her bra, drawing my attention straight to her tits.

"Like does not describe how I feel about it, no," I said dryly.

Collins was in a lacy lingerie set, and she had the sheer audacity to ask if I liked it?

"So..." Collins continued to draw a line with her finger, a line that rode bare skin and lace. "You more than like it, then? Or less?"

Mesmerized, I watched her slow movements. I wanted to put my mouth on every tiny bit of skin she was touching.

"More," I said, the word squeezing out of my throat. "I definitely more than like this."

Satisfied, Collins cocked her head. She leaned forward, making it a real battle to keep my eyes on her face. A losing battle. But fuck it. I was okay with not always being the winner. Really, I could cope with that. Especially if that meant I could get an eye-full.

Damn, that was not a lot of fabric.

"Beau."

She said my name softly, a cross between an admonishment and a chuckle. There was a bit of amusement dancing in her eyes.

I trailed my eyes up her body to her pretty face. So soft, such a gentle sweetness to her. But beneath all that purity? She might have covered herself in lace, but Collins was anything but delicate. I'd prove that tonight.

"You took that dress off without me," I said lowly. "You better believe I'm gonna get back at you for that, sweetheart."

Her response wasn't much more than an arched brow. "How?"

Anticipation curved her lips for her, and I knew she wanted it. She wanted fucking everything.

"There's a lot of...straps on that, baby girl," I mused, ignoring answering her question. "How the hell did you get into it so fast?"

Wickedness spread in her grin. Whatever she was about to say would—

"I was already wearing it."

Oh, fuck it all.

"You were..." I ran my hand over my face with a groan. "You were wearing that in the exhibition hall? You were wearing that under your modest little black dress?"

Collins nodded, clearly enjoying my reaction. Her eyes burned into mine, her smile simmering with gratification, making my knees buckle. Unashamedly, she looked down at my erection, and that about did me in.

All for you, baby girl.

If I'd known earlier what she was hiding beneath that dress, I definitely wouldn't have made it back to this apartment without doing something about it.

Domesticity was overrated anyway.

With a shaky breath, I closed the distance between us. Collins' chest began to heave as I slowly ran my finger beneath the strap on her shoulder. Down, down, down until I'd unclasped the top.

I'd spend so many goddamn nights imagining this. Well, actually, not even this. Because this was so much better than anything I could have imagined.

"As much as I love your little outfit," I said. "I need it off."

She looked up at me, longing in her eyes as the bra straps fell down over her arms. This time I absolutely couldn't look away from her face. The hunger there captured every drop of my attention.

Her voice was low when she spoke, a sensual roll to her words. "Whatever you need, Beau."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I didn't usually like it when people did things for me. But I fucking loved this.

"I need a blank canvas," I said, my voice gruff.

"For what?"

I found her eyes and held them. "For lots of tiny brush strokes."

Collins sucked in a breath, but she was quiet while I slipped the rest of the lace from her body. Once she was naked, she fell back into my bed in a ridiculously satisfying way—her tits rocked, her eyes fluttered shut, her hair fell around her like a halo.

Were there rules about fucking an angel? Because I was about to break them.

When Collins opened her eyes again, she found me silently soaking her in. I bit down hard on my lip, withholding the urge to unzip my pants and fist myself. That was how badly she made me ache. I'd missed this sight.

Collins mimicked me, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. "Take off your shirt," she whispered.

We didn't need to whisper. No one else was home, but it felt like if either of us moved too quickly or talked too loudly, the moment would break. And the last thing I wanted was another goddamn break.

I smirked before swiftly undoing the buttons on my shirt, my eyes not leaving Collins.

"This better?"

"Much." She exhaled as though she was physically relieved to see the shirt disappear. When I let the white linen fall to the floor, Collins reached out to trace my tattoos. "Two identical waves," she said absently.

I nodded, watching the realization form in her mind.

"Two identical waves," I said.

Her lips parted in awe. "But this—" She traced the ink. "It makes you...."

"Different, yeah."

The air buzzed as Collins blinked up at me. The moment weighed heavy, and I realized that was the thing about being with this girl. I let myself be heavy. She let me feel things. And not only feel them but hold onto them. Sit with them.

I doubted I'd ever be able to let go of how I felt about her.

Collins tilted her head to the side. "You've always been one of a kind to me, Beau Martin."

God, baby.

"That's all I've ever wanted."

I climbed onto the bed without wasting another second. Caging her beneath me, I leaned down for a kiss, letting my lips feel hers for the first time in what felt like a century. Collins immediately pulled me in closer, hooking her arms around my neck. She traced the seam of my lips with her tongue before getting me to open up like she wanted. I moaned, and then she moaned. The kiss grew deeper, and I sculpted my hands over her bare curves, losing myself in all her softness.

"I love you, Beau," she whispered into my mouth, and I nearly came right then and there.

"Fuck, baby," I groaned. "You gotta give me a warning before you jumpstart my heart."

She giggled, and I leaned away to draw out the paintbrush from behind my ear.

"Let me show you, Collins."

"Show me what?"

"All the parts of you that I love."

Her eyes grew dewy as she studied the paintbrush between my fingers. "Are you going to paint me?"

A shrug. "You could say that."

Her lips curled. "Where's your canvas?"

"I told you, remember? It's you. You're my canvas." Without any further warning, I trailed the brush over the peak of her nipple, making her squirm. My name flew from her lips, and my lips twitched.

Maybe some other things did, too.

"Here," I whispered, painting her skin with the leftover water droplets clinging to the brush's tip. "I love you here."

Collins shivered. "It's wet, Beau."

A smirk snuck onto my face. "You're skipping a few steps, sweetheart."

I grinned at her, watching as a bit of water dribbled down the slope of her breast. I let it fall, let it skim over her skin, and arouse her.

"Don't be so sure about that," she muttered, and I chuckled. It came out deep and husky because suddenly I was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

I raised a brow. "You wet, baby?"

In reply, she looked up at me beneath sooty lashes, and I swallowed a groan.

Focus, dude.

"I love you here, too," I murmured, tickling her with the tip of the brush as I made my way to her other nipple, scraping it gently.

Collins arched off the bed with a sharp, startled gasp. Bending down, I switched tactics and captured her nipple in my mouth, assuaging it with my tongue. Her gasp turned to a moan.

Ignoring her throaty protests when I pulled away, I dragged the brush upward, tracing it over her heart.

"And here, of course."

She whimpered my name as I dipped into her collarbone, teasing the skin there before finding the hollow below her ear. "Here, too."

"You know," she managed to get out, and I could tell from her tone that she was about to tease the hell out of me. "Those aren't tiny brush strokes you're doing there, baby. It's more like... one long stroke."

Baby. Oh fuck, she said baby.

I had this feeling that I was the only person in the world that Collins had ever called baby, and that drove me absolutely wild.

"Oh, really?" I sat back on my knees. "Why don't you show me what tiny brush strokes look like then?"

She waited expectantly, assuming I'd hand over the paintbrush. But she was the professional here, right? Baby girl didn't need any extra tools.

"Go on," I urged.

Collins stared at me with those big, brown eyes, and it only took me a second of impatience to spring into action. Painting down her body with the brush, I slowed as I went lower.

"Here." I flicked the feathery tip between her legs, urging her to open for me. She did, wide enough that I could see how pretty of a dark pink her pussy was. Her hips tipped up, and I brushed over her clit, stroking repeatedly. "Here's where I want you to show me."

And then I pulled away.

Collins' light panting was the only thing I could hear in the room.

"You want me to show you what tiny strokes look like?" she asked before that hot gaze skidded down her own body.

"Yes." I leaned down, grazing the shell of her ear with my lips as I spoke, my voice like gravel. "Show me how you flick that clit, baby."

Collins' hand made a gradual descent before settling between her legs. She moaned as she dipped a finger deep inside. It emerged glistening wet, and she stroked it over her clit slowly. Over and over again, not moving from that little point.

My throat had gone completely dry as I watched. Did she even realize what she did to me?

"Collins," I groaned, and she smiled. She fucking smiled. "You can't tell me you didn't do this and think about me over the last month."

"Beau," she cooed, "I thought about you all the time."

"While you were touching yourself?"

That was a very important clarifier. Of course, I wanted Collins to think about me, but at the moment, I very explicitly needed to know that she thought about me like this.

"Yes," she confessed.

I would never forget that confession.

"That's my girl," I breathed.

"I am." Collins' rocked her hips up desperately. "I'm yours."

She cried my name, and I knew it was a plea for me to intervene. She wanted me to touch her and make her fall apart. But there was something so fucking satisfying about watching and knowing what Collins looked like whenever I wasn't in the picture. What she would look like in the future, on those rare—very rare—nights when we'd be separated.

"I want to watch you make yourself come, Collins."

"Then talk to me," she begged. God, yes. The begging. "I've missed hearing you. I've missed your voice."

I lay down next to her, situating myself next to her ear."I forgot how much you like it when I talk you through it."

That was a lie. I absolutely did not forget it. I would never forget it.

Collin's entire body arched off the bed as she moaned. "I love it."

"You love me," I amended, feeling so confident about that fact.

"Yes," she whimpered.

I tugged her earlobe between my teeth before breathing huskily in her ear. "Put those fingers in your pussy, baby."

She turned to look at me with sparkling eyes. "How many?"

It was my turn to be speechless.

God, I couldn't do this anymore. The teasing, the flirting. As much as I loved everything about this moment, about searing it into my brain, I needed something different now. I needed Collins. Fully.

She shrieked as I sat up, snuck an arm beneath her, and flipped her into my lap while I rested my back against the headboard.

"I changed my mind." I cupped the back of her head and guided it down. "I can't fucking wait."

Collins kissed me, long and slow. And while she did that, she fumbled with my belt buckle until my pants were loose enough that I could lift my hips, and she could push them down.

"I need you," I mumbled as if it wasn't already obvious.

Collins didn't say anything. She nodded in a breathy agreement before wrapping her fingers around my dick.

I thought I might pass out.

Luckily I didn't, though. A moment later Collins had positioned herself over my cock, and she began to slowly lower herself. She sank onto me, surrounding me with the feeling of her wet heat. My vision grew blurry while I adjusted to how fucking good it felt.

"Take it all, Collins," I growled when I felt her hesitation.

We both knew she could take it.

And she did, right before she began riding me. And holy hell. Groaning loudly, I grabbed Collins' hips, helping her to rock. But she threw her head back, confidently taking control of it. And if I thought any of the other positions I'd put her in were hot, this...this was fucking incredible.

When she looked down at me, her gaze was alive. Pleasure and pain and emotion combined. And then her lips parted, and she said more than I ever expected.

"I was so afraid that needing someone would make me lose sight of myself. Of what I can do for myself." She gasped as I tipped my hips up sharply. But after recovering, her voice came out even stronger. "But I'm not afraid anymore. I need this and you and us."

"Yes," I croaked, urging her closer to me so that we were skin-to-skin everywhere. So the rock of her body molded into the wave of mine. I stroked her back, and she grabbed my shoulders, and our mouths hovered only a breath apart. "Yes," I repeated, only softer this time. "I love you."

Her lips brushed lightly over mine. Tender. As if she weren't doing her best to fuck me into oblivion.

"Harder, baby girl," I panted. "I need—"

Collins yanked on my hair to cut me off, showing me she understood exactly what I needed. She swung off me, leaving protests on my lips, and fell back into the bed, her eyelids heavy as she insisted, "Take it, then. Take what you need."

She always had this way of giving back whatever I dished out for her, and it never ever got old.

"Fuck," I groaned, climbing on top of her. "It's no wonder I fell in love with you that first night."

"Beau...." Another soft admonishment. Like she was chastising me for lying when it was actually the whole goddamn truth.

"You think I'm kidding, but I'm fucking not," I grunted at the same time I pushed inside of her, and Collins' head flung back with a silent cry as I buried myself deep. "Then you showed up outside our door, and I nearly lost my shit."

Collins gasped, still arched beneath me. I took the opportunity to reach out to cup her breast, squeezing the soft skin between my fingers.

"I thought you were mad at me for being here," she said."

With my free hand, I grabbed her chin and tipped it down. I needed her to look me in the eye while I fucked her and told her how much she meant to me. "Just madly in love with you, baby."

Collins' lips moved, but she didn't make a sound beyond a breathy whimper. I knew exactly what she was trying to say, though.

"Legs over my shoulders." I grasped her thighs and hoisted them up. "I need to feel you deeper tonight."

She eagerly obeyed. Her body tipped into a new angle, and holy fucking shit, did it feel good. I grabbed the headboard to steady myself, but Collins reached up to dig her fingers desperately into my arms as I thrust harder, so I tangled my fingers in hers instead. So we both had something to hold on to.

"Beau, I—I—"

Collins' expression was crumbling beautifully.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I murmured like a prayer while slamming into her repeatedly. Our pace was frenzied and needy, but I couldn't get enough of her. I'd never get enough. "Come for me, baby."

"For you," she breathed before breaking down into a thousand tiny shakes. A cry ripped from her throat, and I dropped down to kiss the vibrations from her. Burying myself there in the crook of her neck, I rode her through her orgasm for as long as I could until I lost it, groaning her name into her mass of sweet-smelling hair.

I wasn't sure, but I might have seen stars before Collins' voice brought me back.

"Oh my god." I could feel her deep breathing beneath me, how her chest continued to heave against mine. "Oh my god, Beau."

I pushed off of her slightly. "Well, I did once tell you that I could get carried away with a paintbrush."

She rolled her eyes, but her hand came up to cup my face tenderly. She brushed her thumb over my cheek, and the softness of it after how roughly we'd just been grabbing at each other...my heart couldn't handle it.

"I never should have doubted you," she whispered.

She wasn't talking about paintbrushes.

"You didn't doubt me." I waited until her thumb passed near my lips and then kissed it. "You were trying to protect me."

A droplet of moisture rolled down the side of her face, and I wasn't sure if it was a tear or sweat. "I didn't need to, though."