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“Oh.” That was the only sound I could make.

“Is this okay?” He held my hand close to his mouth.

I nodded.

“How about this?” He gently lowered my hand, still in his, and leaned in. His lips found mine and we kissed.

“Even better,” I mumbled, refusing to take my mouth off his. There was the lightest scratch from his stubble. It felt great against mine.

“Hmmm” was his only response.

When we parted, staying close enough to share breath, Ethan’s lips curved in a dazed, almost dreamy smile. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too.” I brushed my thumb across his cheek, memorizing the way he leaned into the touch.

FIFTEEN

ETHAN

The pond at sunset was a different world—quiet, golden, and ours.

Andre’s lips moved against mine, gentle but insistent.

I hadn’t felt this kind of spark in years, not since Marcus. Even at our best, I didn’t think it had been like this.

Part of me worried I was getting in too deep. But the way he kissed me, like I was the only thing that mattered, made those fears seem distant.

Andre pulled me closer, and the tentativeness from earlier melted away. The kisses ignited a firestorm of desire within me.

I couldn’t get enough. Shivers ran down my spine as his tongue explored my mouth. His hands roamed my back, and his arousal pressed against my leg, a hard reminder of how much he wanted this too. It was intoxicating.

“Oh God,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so good.”

He smiled against my lips. “So do you.”

Our hands roamed without hesitation. I ran my fingers over his shaved head, feeling the scratch of fine stubble. I’d wanted to do this for days now, and I relished in it.

He traced the lines of my back and glided over my shoulders and down my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Soft moans slipped from my lips. Each touch deepened the connection we’d been building all week.

Andre pulled back, his deep brown eyes locking onto mine. “Can I take your shirt off?” His voice was husky with desire.

I nodded, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in my chest. Sure, this wasn’t my first time, but what if he didn’t like what he saw?

The anticipation outweighed the doubt. “Yeah, go ahead.”

He lifted the hem of my shirt slowly. Every nerve tingled as he pulled the fabric up, his touch grazing my abs. I raised my arms, letting him peel it free. The cool evening air kissed my skin, but it was his gaze that made me shiver.

His eyes roamed over me, hungry and admiring. My cock hardened, pressing against my shorts.

Holding my shirt, he glanced around.

“You can just drop it,” I said, my voice rough with need.

With a smirk, he let it fall. His hands returned, brushing my collarbone. He leaned in, his breath warm against my neck. “You’re stunning,” he murmured.

The way he seemed to memorize every inch of me made my heart race. “I love how you’re looking at me.” My voice trembled.

His fingers traced my pecs, lingering on the dusting of hair, then circled my nipples. A jolt of pleasure shot through me, triggering a moan that was sharp and needy. He grinned, pinching one gently, rolling it between his fingers until I gasped, my head tipping back.