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Familiar but different, a fine sweep of hair now darkened his chest, which was wider, more toned than it was at twenty-one, and his arms were ripped, but not too ripped, proving he had a life outside the gym. Gasping as Nick teased her breasts, Evie slid into his tented underwear. She cupped his balls for a cheeky squeeze, earning a low growl from his throat, then closed her hand around his eager length, her confident strokes drawing a strained “Faster” against her skin. The thought of him—larger, thicker—deep inside her made Evie obscenely wet and obnoxiously impatient. Her skin pebbled with goosebumps. Nick’s physique had left her breathless before, but this…this Nick, thirty-four years in the making, was a whole other work of art.

As his breaths quickened, he stilled her hand. “Fuck, Tigs. You’re incredible.” His lips curved into a cheeky grin. “But I don’t want to rush or come yet. I’d like to make this last—for both of us.”

Delight danced in Evie’s chest as she released her grip. Nick was generous and caring, dedicated as much (if not more) to her pleasure as his own. “We always used to be in such a hurry. Do you remember?”

“Oh god, yeah. The joys of having sex in our childhood bedrooms, hoping we wouldn’t get caught.”

Evie smirked at the lock-free door. “Kinda like tonight.”

“Makes me feel right at home.” Nick pressed his lips, warm and wet and deliciously naughty, against her neck.

Closing her eyes, Evie ran her hands up his arms and along his back, feeling his muscles flex as his kisses and adoring moans feathered her breasts…then her stomach where they abruptly stopped.

Nick Balfour—once a tease, always a tease! With a sassy response on her tongue, she opened her eyes and found him looking at her six-inch scar. The faded vertical line extended from just above her belly button—now slightly deformed post-surgery—to the top of her pelvic bone.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Shit. I didn’t even think…

For Evie, her scar symbolized survival and resilience, but what would it represent for Nick? Their shattered past? A red flag?

“Evie…”

Here come the excuses. She stared at the ceiling, furrowing her brows. “I know,” she sighed.

“Well, I’d hope so.” Low with a hint of a playfulness, his reply sounded…keen?

Evie dropped her gaze back down to Nick.

A lascivious smile curved his lips. “You’re so beautiful and sexy. I am one lucky bloke.” His eyes darkening, he continued where he left off, kissing her scar and belly tenderly.

Evie tingled, giddy with relief as he kept heading south, his mouth and tongue flirting over her underwear and down the softness of her inner thighs. Licking, biting, sucking—he left her whimpering and writhing, fisting his hair, gasping for more.

She tore at the silky fabric of her panties, helping Nick yank them away. But her frenzy was overtaken by the feel of his fingers gently parting her and the ragged warmth of his rapid breaths against her skin.

He glanced up, locking eyes with her. “You’re so wet for me.”

She trembled with anticipation as he buried his tongue inside her, his hands squeezing her ass, holding her still. Gasp by gasp, Evie unraveled into a moaning puddle of molten want as he teased and sucked, only pausing to say how amazing she tasted and how much he had missed her, had missed this. Every lick of her clit, every finger slipped inside made her wetter, more desperate.

But it still wasn’t enough. Evie wanted more. She wanted all of him.

“Nick…” she purred.

He paused, retreating with a grin like he recognized her tone from years past. Pulling back the sleeping bag, Evie worked his underwear down his legs, and his erection sprang free. She straddled his thighs, beholding the sight laid bare in front of her: the slight curve of his hard length, his subtle six-pack and glorious chest, and his smile—mischievous and beckoning—setting off a cavalcade of dimples. Still so fucking sexy. She had never thought she’d find herself here again, curling her fingers around him, teasing him with her tongue, taking him in her mouth…

“Yesss.” Nick’s head fell back, his eyes fluttering closed. “Oh, babe, that’s—” His fingers slid into her hair as he moaned. “God, I’ve missed you.” His breaths quickened.

If he thinks that’s good… Taking him deeper, Evie sucked harder and swirled her tongue, loving every second of his salty taste, of being in control, of driving him wild. He bucked his hips and she groaned softly, the vibrations pulling a torrent of sweary appreciation through his lips.

Moving her hand faster, she sucked and licked, her confident rhythm twitching Nick’s thighs.

He let out a low growl. “Fuuck. This—you, you’re amazing,” he gasped. “But I’d rather be inside you.”

Mid-suck, she blinked up, meeting his eyes.

“I think about it all the time. You and me.” Disappointment dampened his wicked stare. “But I don’t have any condoms here. I never thought we’d…”

Evie popped off. “I didn’t either.” She berated herself for a lack of lustful planning. “But I have an IUD. And no history of STIs.”

The corners of his mouth rose. “Same. Got tested after my last relationship. I haven’t been with anyone since.”