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Caleb lifted her off his lap and stood. “We haven’t finished the tour yet.”

“Shouldn’t we talk?”

He grinned. “You came to my house. You couldn’t shut up about how great I am to my mom. You babied me with Band-Aids. I think I’ve got your number, honey.” His hands moved up inside her shirt to her waist.

“How’s that?”

“I think you still have the hots for me.”

“Pretty flimsy evidence.”

He slid his hands up over her breasts, and she gasped when his thumbs found her nipples. “You’re letting me touch you,” he murmured. “You like it.”

Leaning over, he kissed her throat. “You look beautiful,” he said. “And ever since Henry spilled water on your lap, I’ve been trying to guess what you’re wearing under that skirt.”

She smiled as his mouth blazed a warm trail up her neck. “I came here to meet your family. I’m wearing the most boring white cotton underwear you can possibly imagine.”

He groaned and brought her hand to his crotch. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.”

At the feel of the hardening length behind his zipper, desire swept through her, familiar and strong, and she made a helpless noise as her hand tightened around him. “Caleb, I—”

“I was going to come over to your house,” he said, and he began backing her out of the bathroom into a wide, bright hallway. “As soon as the party ended. And I was going to insist that you give me another chance. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that photographer, and I’m sorry I stuck my nose into your business with Richard. I know you can handle yourself, honey, and I promise I’ll let you. I know you probably don’t want me to love you yet, and that freaked you out. But give me some time. Don’t push me away.”

Her back bumped into a door, and Caleb lowered his head and kissed her, slow and sweet at first, then gradually harder, more aggressive. The low flame of desire between her thighs built to a bonfire. Ellen wrapped her arms around his neck and plastered her body against him, all her doubts burned up in the need to be as close to him as she could get.

He opened the door. “My room.”

“I want you,” she whispered. “The whole you, Caleb. I was lying when I said I didn’t.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want to ask you questions. Find out … find out your stories. The good ones and the bad ones.”

“I’ve got some pretty bad stories.”

She reached out and rested her palm against the side of his head, brushing her thumb over his temple. His hair was prickly beneath her palm. “But you’re a good man.”

Caleb closed his eyes for a second, but not before she saw his relief. As though he’d been waiting for her to tell him that.

When he opened them, he smiled. The rake’s grin again. He closed the door behind him and spun her around against it. “I’m not all that good.”

He dropped to his knees and lifted her skirt. “Tell me I can touch you.”

“Please.” He stroked her with two fingers through the cotton, and when the moisture of her body soaked them, he moaned with pleasure and moved in with his tongue. The sensation of the hot, wet fabric rasping over her clit made her cry out. “You taste amazing.”

“Caleb,” she pleaded.

“Tell me what you need.”

“You. I want you inside me. I need to feel you close.”

He undressed her and led her to the bed, where she helped him out of his clothes. Then it was just the two of them, naked and needy, kissing and touching, and she wanted to tell him everything she’d been holding back so there’d be nothing left to keep them apart.

As he reached for a condom, she said, “I don’t want to be your lover.”

He hesitated, and she clarified, “I want to be your girlfriend.” She plucked the condom out of his hand and began rolling it onto him. “Only nobody says ‘girlfriend’ anymore. You’ll have to call me your ‘significant other’ or your ‘partner’ or something.”

Caleb smiled. “We have a problem, then. I don’t want a significant other.”

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