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I scrunched my nose up at him.

“You’re sure you want to know the dirty details of my past encounters when you’re about to be one of them?” I asked.

He snorted.

“I want to know. Tell me,” he ordered.

So, I did.

In great detail.

“It’s been about four years,” I said. “I lost my virginity to a man named Kell. He was awful, and I continued to let it be awful for about three months before I couldn’t take the awful anymore. It hurt so bad every time we did it that I haven’t wanted to repeat the process until you.”

His brows rose.

“Sex hurt?” he asked, his hands freezing on my hips.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Was he rough with you?” He trailed his fingers back down my thighs, curving them around my front until he could skim the seam of my panties with his large fingers.

“I don’t know?” I admitted. “He’s the sum of my sexual experience. I know what he taught me. That’s it. Was he rough? Maybe. I don’t really know.”

His head dipped down once again, lips trailing down my jaw to curve around to my ear.

His whispered voice, lips moving against the shell of my ear, made goosebumps trail down my spine.

“I’m gonna have to be gentle, then.” He curved his finger under the seam of my panties, barely grazing my curls.

“I’m not breakable.” My voice caught.

“No.” He shrugged. “But I’m not going to be that guy that follows up your first sexual experience without taking care.”

I felt my face heat slightly at his words.

Then his finger moved until he could drag it through my wetness.

My breasts quivered in anticipation, and I leaned forward to drag them across his dress uniform.

“I saw you in this today,” I said. “And had instant fantasies. I daydreamed about taking this off of you throughout the entire service.”

His lips twitched as he pulled his fingers free and brought them to his mouth.

Then he went even further and licked them clean.

I bit my lip, watching the sexiest man I knew make mincemeat of me by one lone act that set fire to my blood.

“This uniform is hot,” he said. “Scratchy, and it makes me feel suffocated.” His eyes went unreadable. “But the idea that you like seeing me in it makes me want to stay in it forever.”

My heart soared.

“I don’t like the idea that you’re not going to be here tomorrow,” he started saying as he trailed the backs of his fingers down the tips of my breasts. “But I do like knowing I’m going to send you off with a bang.”

My breath left me in a burst of laughter.

“Literally,” I snickered.

He grinned right back at me, then started to remove his uniform.

I watched silently as he took off his uniform shirt, then his pants, followed by his socks.

Then, all of a sudden, he was standing there in his white boxer briefs, and I had way too many clothes on.

“I need to get this dress off,” I said as I slipped free of the counter.

He stepped backward, and I allowed my eyes to trail down his neck to his chest.

He had a smattering of red chest hair that I wanted to run my fingers through.

Would it be soft?

“Touch me,” he urged.

So, I did, letting my fingers trail over his warm, tight, muscled flesh.

He felt like silk underneath my hands.

How did he have such soft chest hair?

My finger trailed over one nipple, and he hissed.

“Your dress needs to come off,” he urged.

I grinned at him, then turned so that my back was to him all over again.

He finished unzipping the zipper and the rest of the dress fell to a puddle on the floor at my feet.

The expensive silk was kicked off my feet toward the toilet, likely getting disgustingly dirty in the process.

Not that I cared.

I wouldn’t be wearing it ever again.

Nor would I be…

Lock moved his hands to my hips and bent me over the counter.

My breasts pressed against the cool marble countertop, and I jolted with surprise.

My nipples pebbled even harder, and soon I was panting in anticipation.

“The first time I saw you at the baseball game, I wanted to fuck you,” he said, sounding slightly strangled.

I wiggled my hips against his body, and he growled, squeezing them tightly to get me to stay still.

But I didn’t want to stay still.

I had an ache that was growing increasingly worse the longer it took him to do whatever he was doing to me—torture would be my guess.

“You had a curl that’d escaped from the rest, and it was being blown by the wind. It kept getting stuck in your lip gloss. Every time you’d pull it away, it’d go right back. And I couldn’t stop thinking about what your hair would do if I was fucking your mouth.” He growled.

My breath hitched.

Now I wondered what it would do if he was fucking my mouth.

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