The sound he made then, a slow hiss of air through his teeth, was off-the-freaking-charts erotic. Her cheeks flamed. Along with other, more needy parts of her body. His hand cupped her, his wrist caught between her belly and the denim she wore. His fingers pressed into her cleft, barred from her flesh only by a damp scrap of fabric. She squirmed, needing more, aching for him to slide it aside and plunge into her. “Hold on, baby,” he murmured.

Oh, but she couldn’t. She was in flames, undulating against his hand, frustrated when he eluded her. “Please, Brian. Please.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Damn him for making her beg, for—

All those thoughts fled when he moved aside the thin panel of fabric between her legs and explored her wetness, caressing her sensitive folds with unbearable gentleness.

The sensations he had evoked were too acute; she couldn’t think straight. She was wound too tight, clinging to him and panting into his shoulder while he took his dear, sweet time winding her even tighter.

When he finally pushed deeper, parting her labia and seeking her entrance, she struggled to spread wider for him. His fingertip sought and breached her, and she gasped as it burned through her passage. A whimper escaped her before she could suppress it, and Brian growled low in his throat. “So tight.”

She winced and adjusted as he pushed deeper. She wanted to struggle out of her jeans, but at the same time there was a delicious wantonness in lying here with his hand shoved down her pants and her panties pushed aside while he stroked her depths.

“Up here, baby,” he murmured, and she tilted her face up for his kiss, tasting his heat, his lust, as he teased her lips apart with his and then devastated her with the mastery of his tongue as it plundered deep. He dragged his finger out of her, swirled it over her too-sensitive clitoris in the exact same pattern his tongue danced in her mouth. She tensed and shuddered and tried to wriggle away, but only half-heartedly. Brian smiled wickedly against her lips. “What’s the matter?”

“Feels…oh. It feels too good.”

“Then you’d better stay right here,” he murmured, lips skimming over hers. Two blunt fingertips trailed down and pressed into her opening. Her mouth fell open against his, but when he tried to penetrate, she couldn’t control her reaction. She gasped and dug her heels into the bed to fight against the shocking pressure, but her jeans kept his hand trapped there.

“Shh, shh,” he said, immediately withdrawing once he realized she had gone from agonized pleasure into real distress. “Jesus, Candace. Please tell me you’ve done this before.”

Tears pricked behind her eyes as he looked down at her. The words gathered behind her mouth, she just couldn’t force them out.

Her silence must have been answer enough. Brian smoothed the hair away from her forehead, brushing her brow with his lips. “Oh, baby. Never?”

“I think I’d remember.” Her voice sounded tiny even to her own ears.

“I know that, but…” He exhaled shakily. “Damn.”

“Does it really matter that much?”

“Hell yes, it matters. Obviously. Were you not going to tell me? I could’ve really hurt you.”

She swallowed thickly. “Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all.” He shook his head, his face close enough to hers that the tip of his nose almost brushed her own. Then he laughed, a little self-deprecatingly. “I just don’t know what to do with you now.”

“What do you mean? Do what you would ordinarily do.”

His thumb continued stroking her hairline. “I can’t be the one you want to give it up to your first time.”

What the hell? “I’m only lying here with my legs open for you.” There. That was better, that icy, steely tinge in her voice. His questioning her judgment this way was not cool in the least. “What you did…I wasn’t prepared for what it would feel like, but I don’t want you to stop now.”

He shook his head again. She wished he would quit doing that. “Honey, it’s not that I don’t want you, because I’m about to explode here. I want to bury myself so deep inside you, you’ll think you won’t ever get me out.”

Ohhh.

“But I can’t let myself do that to you. I can’t.”

Given the determination he managed to inject into those last two words, she knew no amount of arguing would change his mind. But she’d come this far and she couldn’t let go of him without some answers.

“Not tonight, or not ever?”

His voice was tight. “Candace.”

“You said you want me. I want you too. Is that not enough?”

“You make me feel too…” He trailed off, staring at her. She lifted her hand and stroked his cheek.

“Feel too what?”

“I don’t deserve this.”

Her heart broke. She’d never taken Brian for a guy who suffered from lack of confidence. He’d always been so vibrant and sure of himself. Why would he begin to have doubts about his self-worth here in her arms? Surely nothing she’d ever said or done led him to believe she didn’t think he was good enough for her.

“It’s not about deserving,” she said softly.

“You’re probably right, but it’s the easiest way I can sum up the situation. I can’t be who you need me to be.”

“I only need you to be you.”

“No. You need more, you need better than me. You’re everything that’s beautiful and innocent, and just looking at you this way makes me feel like a filthy, debauching bastard.” She opened her mouth to protest there was no reason he should feel that way, but he laid a silencing finger on her lips. “At the same time, it makes me want you more than anything else in my life.”

She kissed his fingertip, opened her mouth to let it slip between her lips, her teeth. He shuddered against her, groaning when she sucked gently on it, drawing it deeper. His erection ground against her thigh, sending a thrill through her stomach. Until he abruptly pulled away from her. “Christ, Candace.”

Damn him. What did she have to do? Who did she have to be?

“You know,” she said, “I’ll never be able to get filthy and debauched with you until you let me get a little bit dirty.” She hated herself for the way her voice broke at the end, and for the tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. Maybe he couldn’t see it.

No such luck. He wiped it away, staring down at her with an appraisal that made her feel stripped way more naked than she was.

“We could take it slow,” she said, thinking it incredible and maybe slightly pathetic that she was having to talk him into this. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? “I liked it when you touched me. A lot. I wanted more. I think I just needed you to take more time.”

“The things I’d like to do to you,” he murmured darkly, lowering his lips to the hollow of her throat.

“Do some of them,” she whispered, shivering. “Or just one. Do one thing. Please?”

When he lifted his head, she could hardly see his expression in the near darkness, but she had the sense he was debating whether staying was a good idea. She was debating it herself. If he didn’t want her, why torture herself by making these memories? At least before, he’d only been a fantasy. Now she knew what he tasted like. What he felt like. She knew the scent and warmth of his skin and the feel of him touching her more intimately than she’d ever allowed anyone else. But the words were out there, and she wouldn’t take them back. She couldn’t have let go of him if the building caught on fire.