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“No roommates?”

“No roommates, and she won’t be back for a couple more weeks. I’m kind of house-sitting.”

I couldn’t think about that. The idea that I might be able to keep Sloane in bed for days on end was far too appealing.

She pointed to a driveway and pulled a remote out of her bag. The gate opened. “It’s that spot,” she said, motioning to the one closest to the elevator.

I parked, got out, and walked around the back of the car to open her door. I held my hand out to her, and she took it. “Sloane—”

She put her arms around my waist, grabbed the cheeks of my ass, and pulled me against her. “No more talking, Tackle. Unless it’s to tell me how hard you’re going to fuck me.”

I nearly came in my pants.

4

Sloane

I didn’t want to talk. Talking led to conversations. And questions—too many of which I didn’t want to answer. They would come, of course. The questions. I might talk big, but it didn’t change the fact that I was a twenty-six-year-old virgin.

I knew Tackle well enough that I doubted he’d ask me why outright. At least not at the moment.

My hand shook as I reached out to press the call button for the elevator. When it happened again once we were inside, Tackle reached out too.

“What floor?” he asked.

“Three.”

He pushed the number, turned my body to face his, and wrapped one arm around me. “Sloane, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No.”

He put his fingertips on my chin and kissed me. The elevator fantasies I had, didn’t have time to play out during our quick three-floor ride. “It’s this way.” I pointed and led him down the hallway.

“Give me the key,” he said when I stopped in front of the door.

My friend kept the blinds closed in the apartment, so it was dark when we walked over the threshold. I would’ve preferred to keep it that way, but Tackle found a light switch and turned it on.

Before he could ask again if I was uncomfortable, I launched at him. When I practically knocked him over, I realized I may have been too eager. “Oh my God, did I hurt you?”

He laughed, steadied himself, lifted me in his arms, and carried me down the hallway, kissing me breathless as we went.

He eased us both onto the bed and immediately brought his mouth back to mine as we pulled at each other’s clothes.

He pulled away. “Sloane?”

I closed my eyes, silently begging, pleading, praying that he wasn’t about to tell me this was a bad idea or that he’d changed his mind. “What?”

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to get out from under him.

“It isn’t okay. We can’t—”

“I do.” That wasn’t exactly true. My friend did. How did I know? I’d been looking for a Q-tip in the bathroom and was stunned to find an unopened box of size extra-large in the cabinet under the sink. I rolled off the bed.

“Wait.”

I couldn’t face him. “Tackle, please.”

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