Somehow their clothes fell away—her shoes and her shirt, his boots and sweatshirt, her socks and her jeans. Thomas must’ve done most of that, and surely she’d helped, but maybe she hadn’t, just thrilling at the intimacy of his touch.
She knew him so well—this man-sized version of the boy she’d adored—he was familiar in so many ways. The sound of his voice. The intoxicating scent of him. The smile that lit his entire face and sparkled in his eyes. The bottomless dark brown depth of those eyes, and the decadent length of the lashes that surrounded them. His nose, his chin, his lips... The way he laughed with his whole body, and talked with his hands.
Familiar hands, yet the way Thomas was touching her now was breathtakingly, heart-stoppingly new.
The way he was looking at her made her feel beautiful. Desired. He was setting her on fire.
And God, she wanted more, more... She heard herself moan.
“Shit, I gotta...” he said, suddenly pulling away from her.
Her first thought was bad time for him to remember he really didn’t want to do this, even though she was already working to enunciate actual words instead of consonant-free sounds of pleasure to tell him that it was okay, she understood, and to apologize again for pressuring him too far too fast.
But when she pushed herself up on her elbows, she realized that he was reaching for something on the coffee table—a condom. He tore the little packet open as he sat back in order to...
Okay, like that wasn’t sexy as hell, watching the muscles flex in his shoulders, chest, and arms as he covered himself.
And God, the smile he gave her redefined hot as he caught her gazing at him, with everything she was thinking and feeling no doubt plastered all over her face.
He’d really meant it. His want to.
That condom had been right there. Ready. At hand. It hadn’t been placed onto the coffee table by accident—Thomas had taken it from the box on the storage shelf and put it there. On purpose. To use. With her. He’d planned for this to happen.
But even more importantly, he was finally ready to let her show him, in this beautiful, sacred, intimate way, exactly what she meant when she said I love you.
Tasha didn’t hesitate. He was barely finished before she scrambled up, toward him.
“Your knees,” he warned.
“I don’t care,” she said, straddling his lap as she reached between them and pushed him deeply inside of her.
And yes, her recently scraped knees may have complained, but dear, sweet God, the rest of her felt so good.
Thomas made a sound that was surely one of agreement as his hands found her hips and held her there, firmly in place. But his eyes were tightly closed, like maybe he didn’t want to look at her, or God, maybe he couldn’t look at her because this was so weird for him, and all of her doubt came crashing back.
There were more options than have to and want to. There was also got to while we can, in terms of now-or-never and...
Oh, shit!
“You think we’re going to die,” Tasha blurted.
His eyes opened wide. “What?”
“That’s what this is. We’re only doing this—” she gestured between them rather unnecessarily because they were undeniably joined “—because you think—”
Thomas caught up fast, exhaling his surprise and disbelief as he cut her off. “I absolutely do not think—”
“—we’re gonna die.” She swept her hair back from her face and accused him. “You’re granting my dying wish.”
He laughed. “Tash.”
And yeah, she’d heard herself saying that, and it sounded extra-crazy, and even though that made her laugh a little, too, he reached out to pull up her chin so that she had to meet his eyes.
“Okay,” he said slowly as his own eyes reflected the fact that he could see from looking at her that no, she wasn’t joking or intentionally being silly. “I guess we’re gonna have a debate right now. Not entirely unexpected, but okay. Let’s do this. I believe the rebuttal is mine. Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “So I’m gonna go with... I have no intention of letting either of us die.”
“I get that,” she said, knowing that if they were really going to properly talk, she should get off him and cover herself. But he’d gone back to holding onto her hips, so she focused on staying very still. Because, God, if she moved, even just a little... “I’m with you. I have that same intention—to do whatever I