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I don’t know if I love the image of me as a piece of paper that this metaphor conjures, but I’ll go with it. My body certainly gets the point. “Funny,” I say. “I thought you were going to end that with something flirty like, ‘and I want to fold you over that park bench.’”

Buck’s eyes flash with heat before his chest vibrates with laughter. “I was trying to go slow with you.”

“Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I’m not ready.” I punctuate that last word with a knowing look.

“Then, can I ask you something personal?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever given yourself an orgasm?”

I blush and glance around, but no one is paying any attention to us now. “No. I’ve tried, but I think I’m doing it wrong,” I half-whisper.

He groans softly. “Let’s get you home, Grace.”

Ooh, yes, please.

Oh my gosh, it’s happening! I only hope I figure out what to do other than lie there like a dead fish. I float all the way home with Buck’s arm wrapped around me. I feel safe, reassured, and barely able to contain my arousal.

Okay, so he doesn’t know that I’m a great big liar who lies, but that’s totally beside the point.

In my mind, I draw a thick line between personal and professional. Professionally, I did lie to him. Personally, I’m an open book.

The open book in me is eager for more kissing, touching, and everything else.

When we arrive at my apartment door, we spend a surprisingly long time kissing while standing on the welcome mat.

“Do you want to come in?” I say when I pull away from yet another one of his devastating kisses. It’s more as a formality. We both know he’s coming inside.

“As much as I want to, we’re saying goodnight right here,” he says.

My heart plummets. “Oh. I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

“No!”

“It’s because I told you I was a virgin, isn’t it? It’s because I made it sound like I’m desperate for it.” I’m babbling, which I know is not helping my case.

He makes the babbling stop by tilting his face down once more and kissing me hard. The pulse between my legs grows into a throbbing ache. “Grace…”

Buck hisses my name, rough and hot against my mouth. “I do want to come in. So bad.”

Strong arms hitch me higher, my toes now scraping my welcome mat. He lands another kiss on my lips, this time licking the seam, urging me to open. Oh, Lordy, does he know what he’s doing to me?

I can’t help but let go of the whimper of need clawing at my throat. “Then let’s go inside.”

Buck kisses me silly again with tangling tongues and mingling ragged breaths. Then, to my dismay, he pulls back and palms the side of my head.

“Grace,” he says again. “We have to be careful.”

“I’m not afraid,” I say, assuming he means because of the virgin thing. “You’re sweet and kind and I know you’ll be gentle with me.”

Slowly, he sets me back down on the mat and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, speaking low and steady. “You’re too trusting, Grace.”

“I feel like I know you already, Buck.”

A smile pulls at his lips, now glistening and swollen from our kissing. What I would give to feel those lips everywhere. To feel that sinful mouth play with me. Tease me. Wreck me.

I shiver just thinking about it.

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