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“I’m sorry.” She looks embarrassed and I need to make her understand before I fuck this up completely.

“Don’t be sorry. You need to know…” I swallow and push forward. “See, when I came to the booth yesterday…it wasn’t just some accident. I didn’t wander by for no reason. I’ve been trying to talk to you for three fucking years. But every time I’m close to you,” I shake my head. “Well, as you can see, the blood leaves my brain and takes a deep dive to my other brain. The one that isn’t always so smart.”

“But,” She licks her cherry lips. “You’ve barely talked to me in all these years. Even when I tried…”

“I know. Like I said, I think I had a blood flow issue.”

“Okay, but so we’re here now. And you say ‘no’?” She looks so fragile, a hint of rejection in her eyes and I hate it. I need to make her understand.

“You’re worth the wait. It’s been three years, but I want it right. Not some rushed deal in the corner while you’re scared.”

She clears her throat and there’s a buzz, then a few clicks, and the power comes back on, the lamp lighting up her face, and she’s more beautiful than ever.

“Maybe I’m not scared anymore.” She gives me this playful grin and it takes all my fucking willpower not to turn her over and fuck her like I’ve dreamed a thousand times.

I try to hold back my smile, so fucking happy she might just want this the way I do, but I want to be sure and I don’t want her to have any regrets. No buyer’s remorse the next day.

“Tell you what.” I look up at the bed. “The couch is fucking uncomfortable. I don’t fit, my legs hang off the end.” I tread softly. “Let’s say we share the bed tonight.”

“So, you’ll sleep with me?” She squints an eye then finishes. “But you won’t, sleep, sleep with me?” She twists her lips to the side.

“Yeah. Something like that.” I stand up, taking her hand and pulling her around to the side of the bed, the covers already pulled down from her entrance and exit, and I slip in on my side, dragging her in with me.

She follows, she smells so fucking good I think I might die right here, and I can see her nipples pushing out on the thin t-shirt as she slides down, facing me. Her tiny hands press together like she’s praying, and she stuffs them between her cheek and the pillow, looking like an angel.

We lay there, looking at each other for a long moment, before her lips tighten, then a smile blooms and she raises an eyebrow.

“What?” I trace my fingertips down her nose. Something I’ve wanted to do for three years and it’s better than any fantasy.

“Maybe, if I’m a really good girl…” The words and the sparkle in her eyes are making it nearly impossible to maintain control. “You’ll give me a little good night kiss.”

Chapter Eight

Miller

IT’S A DAMN GOOD THING we’re laying down.

When she half-ass asked for the goodnight kiss, I creamed my boxers, letting out this tortured noise which I tried to hide by smashing my lips onto hers.

As I capture her mouth with mine, Jesus, her taste is beyond perfection. I’ve imagined this moment so many times, but now that it’s here? No amount of imagination could come close.

It’s like being blind, believing you understand what a rainbow looks like, then suddenly having the miracle of sight and seeing it for yourself.

Her sweet, full lips open and if we weren’t in bed, I’d be on the ground, because it feels like I’m close to passing out.

And she’s making these little sounds.

Fuck. Her sounds.

They’re not a moan, not a yelp, not like anything I’ve heard before, but now that I’m hearing them, I’m already addicted.

Our tongues rub against each other. Warm and wet. And what I wouldn’t give to have my tongue and my cock discovering all the other warm wet places on her body. But, I want this slow. I want it right.

For her.

Because, truth is, for me, anything she does—or lets me do—is right. I don’t know what she could ever do that would be wrong. If she even breathes in my direction, I want to worship her.

My dick reminds me with an ache where he belongs, as she arches into me, her hands moving over my shoulders as I slip mine around her back, one between the mattress and her waist, the other to the back of her neck, holding her steady.

I’m kissing the love of my life. I’ve known it for so long, and for whatever reason, I couldn’t make anything happen. Now, I never want to stop kissing her.

One of her hands drifts down my back. When it gets to the elastic of my boxers, her fingertips trail along the edge making me crazy.

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