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“Yes.” At the mention of my mother, I automatically try to smooth the wrinkles from my dress. “If she knew how forward I’ve been with you, she would be scheduling extra therapy sessions through next year.”

He grins. “She’s a little strait-laced?”

“That’s an understatement.” I twist the diamond stud in my ear. “I think she means well. She wants what’s best for me, but sometimes I wish she’d let me decide what that is. I’ve spent so long trying to please her, I don’t know how to…”

“Please yourself?”

“Yes.”

Desmond touches his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “I can help with that.”

“I hope so,” I whisper, his smoky tone making my toes curl in my sensible heels. “I’m going to pack. I won’t be a moment.”

“I’ll help.”

My steps falter on the way to my bedroom, tingles crawling up my spine at the sound of his heavy footsteps behind me. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d never had a man in my apartment and wow, what a man to select for the first time. He’s such a presence. So male.

When he asked me if I want to become more confident so I can ask out other men, I fudged my answer a little. Sure, I suppose someday in the future, tonight’s lesson will come in handy, but I can barely remember other men exist when Desmond is close. I wonder how long it will take me to move on once the tutorial is complete and he’s gotten his fill.

A pang in my chest catches me off guard and I massage it on the way into my bedroom. Pushing open the door, I look at my space through Desmond’s eyes. Light, tasteful, lots of white and yellow and orange. Books and food magazines scattered everywhere. This is the only area of my life that I control completely and letting him see it is as intimate as a kiss.

Not that I would know that for sure.

But by tonight, I will.

Trying to hide the hot shiver passing through me, I kneel down and tug an overnight bag from beneath the bed. Desmond’s hand appears in front of me, his blunt fingers sliding under the handle and lifting it on to the bed.

He squints an eye at me. “What do you think about letting me pack for you?”

My hands twist in front of me. “Oh, I don’t know…”

“If you pack for yourself, what will you bring?”

“Well, some pajamas, of course—”

“Quinn. You’re already overpacking.”

I sputter for a good five seconds. “Are you suggesting I’ll be sleeping naked?”

“You’ll be wearing me. That’s it.” He says those words so casually. Meanwhile, I’m tongue-tied watching him open my underwear drawer. “I had you pegged for a white panties girl.” He dangles one of my many white bikini briefs from his fingers. “I was right.”

My face warms. “That’s not all I have. There’s gray and beige in there, too. Probably.” I wave at him. “Sift around.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a fan of the white ones, sweetheart.”

“Are you a fan?”

He makes a considering sound. “I’d have to see them on you to make that judgment.”

“You will be seeing them,” I say, breathily, my thighs feeling oddly liquefied. “Tonight, under the covers, in the glow of some tasteful lighting.”

A corner of his mouth edges up. “Damn, Quinn. You’re cute as hell.” He drops my panties back into the drawer and comes toward me, slowly. “You could show them to me now.”

My hand flies to my chest, wrapping around the locket. “But it’s so bright in here.”

“Quinn, you asked me to help make you more confident. Let me do my job.”

My nerves are running circles in my tummy. “How is this going to make me more confident?”

Desmond steps into my space and places his lips against the crown of my head. His male scent is wrapped in baking ingredients, thanks to the morning’s activities, and he smells incredible. I could bask for days in his aroma alone, but then his big hands cup my hips, squeezing, and sliding lower. The tips of his fingers inch under the edge of my dress, moving side to side, but not lifting.

“I’ll tell you why this is going to work. Seeing your panties is going to make me so hot, Quinn. I’m already hard…” he murmurs against my ear. “I’ve been hard since you walked out from behind the curtain this morning. But I’m going to get harder when you lift this dress. When you see what you’re capable of doing to my cock, you’re going to feel a lot more confident, aren’t you?”

My breath catches. “Y-you’re going to show it to me?”

His tongue traces the shell of my ear. “If you want to see it, yes.”

I do. Really bad. Is it worth biting the bullet and stepping outside my comfort zone so I can see that part of Desmond’s body? Yes. Yes, it is.

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