“I can handle it,” I promised, and he snapped his gaze up to mine. The hunger flaring in his eyes settled all internal arguments and worries. I could handle it. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
“Never,” he promised. “Never.” He tilted his head back for a moment and gulped in air like he needed it. “Keep your hands there.” It wasn’t a request, so I just nodded, and he let go and tugged his shirt off and tossed it behind him before he stood. As much as I missed the weight of him, I stared as he pulled his belt free, then shucked off his jeans. His boxers swept down with them, leaving his cock in prime view.
Everything about Ian was cut—his shoulders, his pecs, his hips. He had an Adonis belt to die for. Even if I didn’t know he’d played football, you could hardly miss it. Nothing spare anywhere, and all of that gorgeously golden tanned flesh—well, except around his groin and hips where his swim trunks usually rested.
The nest of blond curls around the base of his cock even managed to look sweet, and I rolled my eyes internally at that bit of monologue. His cock was thick, just like the rest of him, and the tip was almost rosy it was so red.
He ran his hand from the base to the tip, and I might have whimpered as he gave it a couple of hard pumps, his fingers flexing around it. Then he paused, so still, and I sucked in a breath.
“Fuck,” he said, then cut his gaze to his dresser and back to me.
“What?” Hot and cold blitzed me at the same time, leaving me dizzy.
“Fuck,” he repeated, then reached over to his nightstand.
“Ian.” I started to sit up, but he pointed a finger at me.
“Don’t.” The predatory look in his eyes when he riveted them on me held me far more captive than that single word. “Condoms. They’re in my bag. Downstairs.” He cursed again.
And a laugh escaped me, more from delight at his intensity than any real humor. At the same time, I couldn’t adore him more at the moment. He was so worried. “We don’t need them,” I told him softly.
This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned this conversation. In fact, I’d shied away from it a couple of times already. Not because I didn’t want to tell the guys, but more that I wasn’t sure how to approach it without sounding like I’d turned into some kind of sex-crazed, horny teenager.
I had a few years of being a horny teenager under my belt. The guys wouldn’t care. I knew that. Intellectually. After that near slip with Coop, I damn well knew he’d be all in. Knowing it in my head wasn’t the same as knowing it in my gut.
That said, Ian didn’t need one. And he sure as hell didn’t need to tear himself up about it.
“What?” He pinned me with a look, and I squirmed again. He wasn’t even touching me, so how was he managing to make me feel like he had his hands all over me?
I licked my lips, then met his gaze steadily. My voice was pretty wrecked from wanting, but I didn’t care. “You don’t need one. You’re clean. I got tested…and I asked the doctor for an implant.” I shifted my arm this time—the left one, so I could half-turn to present him the upper arm, and it meant kind of rolling on my side. Ian studied my arm and then dragged his gaze down the length of me.
If my nipples got any tighter, they might break off. I was so damp, the slickness had to be painting the inside of my thighs. Still, all I got was a thrill from the way he kept devouring me with his gaze. I was not a coy person and I’d never pretended to be a sexpot, but if he kept looking at me like that, I needed to practice.
“It’s effective. No pregnancy. And…that was why I asked you guys about getting tested. I don’t…” Fuck, I was going to bring this up, and I could only mentally cross my fingers it didn’t end this before we even truly got started. “I didn’t want to be the reason any of you got something if the others had it.”
I braced for his reaction, but the sudden blinding grin was not what I expected. “You are the fucking best,” he swore, then he crawled back up