he sweetness of her mouth sends my thoughts into overdrive. I'm usually focused, controlled, but the second I'm with Alyssa, it's like all control goes out the window. And for once in my life, I don't care.

My hands wrap her hair as I pull her in closer. I'm so caught up in her taste that I pull a little harder, and she lets out the gentlest moan. But that's what does it, what breaks through the last of my wavering resolve. Maybe I hadn't realized 'till now, but a part of me has been holding back, keeping her at a distance in case this whole thing blows up. Now I couldn't hold back if I wanted to.

I let go of her hair to gently cup her face. Everything about her is soft, sweet, and despite my impatience to taste every inch, I'm trying my damndest to be the perfect gentleman. She shivers a little, and my ego would like to think it's down to my touch and not the gym's lack of heating, but I don't take that risk. I pull back a little, taking her hand and leading her through the gym into the office. Inside is just as chilly, so I pull her into my arms again.

"You should get under the covers," I say, nodding to the bed. "It'll warm you up."

But she doesn't move. Instead, her eyes find mine in the lamp's dim glow, and I see something different in her expression. Her confidence has wavered, and for once she doesn't have that self-assured look in her eyes. For once, she looks vulnerable.

"Hey," I say softly, pushing back her hair, "it's going to be fine."

She nods, but I can tell that she doesn't believe it. Somewhere along the line, I have developed a knack for reading her expressions, from the slight drop of her eyebrow whenever she's worried to the subtle flare of her nostrils when she's excited about something. And right now, with her eyes dark and careful as she bites on her lip, she's more scared than ever.

"They'll forgive you," I say. "They'll–"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Her breathing is soft as she tilts her head to look at me. I can tell she's still cold – her arms have broken out in the tiniest goosebumps – but I resist the urge to warm her up. Whatever is on her mind, she needs to get it out.

"When I came out of the party and saw you were gone, I thought you hated me."

I frown a little. "I already told you–"

"Just hear me out," she says, so I fall quiet. "I thought you hated me, and–" she takes a breath, and I can tell this is hard for her, "I realized that felt worse than anything else. I thought I'd lost you."

"But you didn't," I say.

"I know," she says, "but it made me realize how hard it would be if I did."

And just like that, I realize she's scared. Not of her family and friends or what they might think, but scared that this thing between us – whatever it is – might end or explode or implode. And even though I'd ride shotgun to hell before admitting it out loud, that same fear lives in me too.

"Hey," I say, grabbing her waist, "I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

Her eyes search mine, and there's a moment of hesitation before her shoulders ease slightly. She wraps her arms around me, her mouth resting maybe an inch or two from mine, but she doesn't move to kiss me. Instead, she takes in my face, carefully trailing my features with her gaze, and I swear it drives me crazy.

Needing to touch her, my lips brush her neck, which smells sweet like candy. She shivers again, and I run my hands across her shoulders, grazing the thin spaghetti straps of her dress. Her eyes flutter shut as the straps fall away, sliding down her arms.

My heart skips a beat as the dress lowers slightly, revealing the curve of her breasts. Her eyes flicker open, and she gives me this brief, seductive look that drives me insane. I'm tempted to reach out and feel every inch, but there's something about waiting that makes this feel all the sweeter.

She places a hand on my chest and pushes me back. Surprised, I take a seat on the edge of the bed and stare up at her. My heart is pounding. Pounding, like I'm some pubescent kid about to have his first time. I'll admit, between training and cutting out any distractions, it's been a long time, and Alyssa...Alyssa could make any man break his vow of celibacy.

Her eyes don't leave mine as she reaches for the zipper of her dress. The sound of it unzipping echoes through the silence, and I grin like a kid in a candy store. One quick move, and it's sliding down her silky skin and pooling at her feet. Her underwear drops next until she's standing completely naked, and I'm speechless.

If Beethoven were still alive, he'd be writing symphonies about this. Her body is a work of art, the perfect silhouette in the dim yellow glow. And goddamn, I can't take it. I grab her hand and pull her closer until she's sitting on my lap, thighs wrapped tightly around me.

Every inch of me springs to life. We've barely touched, but she's got this way of making me more excited than anyone ever has before. I reach up and cup her, running my thumb across the curve of her breast, and when she lets out a breath, I clench my jaw. Whoever said patience is a virtue has never fallen victim to Alyssa Class's advances.

She leans forward a little, her golden hair falling in waves across her chest, and I gather it in my hands to stop it from covering her up. Then I kiss her again, harder this time, more impatient, because I want her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.

All of her.

👀

❤️