I walk toward him, nerves bouncing inside of my stomach and making me jittery. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from mine, continues watching me as I approach and when I reach him, he gently takes my arm and leads me out onto the balcony.

The cool breeze brings with it the scent of the ocean and I breathe deep the salty smell, a little shiver moving through me. The view is spectacular. I can see the city lights to the south of us and the half full moon shines its silvery light on the water.

“Let’s go sit,” Gabe says, his seductive voice sending another shiver down my spine. I go to the overstuffed couch and settle in, gasping in shock when Gabe sits right next to me, our thighs pressed together as he slips his arm around my shoulders.

“Beautiful view,” he murmurs, his nose nuzzling my cheek for the briefest, sweetest second.

I lean into him despite my earlier worry. When it comes to him, it’s like I can’t help the way I react. That’s incredibly scary. “It is.”

“Sit up here much?”

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way he draws circles on my bare shoulder with his finger. Wow, that feels good. “Not really.”

“You’ve never brought any of your other boyfriends up here?” He raises his brows, waiting for my answer.

“No.” I turn to look at him, surprised to find him already staring at me. “Truth? I haven’t had a lot of boyfriends.”

He frowns, reaching out to trace his index finger down the side of my face, stopping at my earlobe so he can toy with my earring. His simple touch makes me tingle everywhere and I breathe out slowly, trying to control my reaction. “Are you serious?” he asks.

Slowly I nod, sucking in a sharp breath when he traces the line of my jaw. “I don’t have time to date. I’m always too busy with school.”

“Well, you’re not in school now, so I’m guessing you have a lot of free time.” He shifts closer and I drop my gaze to his full, perfect mouth. Remembering how he kissed me last night sends a warm, languid sensation shooting through my veins and I want to experience that again.

Despite all the warnings going off in my brain, the caution my mother has instilled in me ever since I was a young teen, I still want it. Want Gabe’s kiss, his touch. Just for a little while.

Just for tonight.

“You’re right. I do,” I say with a nod.

“You know, that old saying is true. All work and no play makes Lucy a dull girl.” He grabs hold of a strand of hair and twirls it around his finger, letting it go and then doing it all over again.

I huff out a laugh. “I didn’t realize it makes specifically Lucy a dull girl.”

“Well, lucky for you it hasn’t yet. Because there is absolutely nothing dull about you.” His hand moves higher and he tugs the band from my bun so my hair falls in wild waves around my face, tickling my skin. “I love your hair.”

His words, his reverent tone silences me. I don’t know what to say, how to react. Having him so close is unnerving. His body warmth seeps into mine, all those hard muscles pressed up against me, the way he touches me so easily. I close my eyes when he slips his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my face up and his mouth whispers over mine in the lightest of kisses.

He hesitates and I hold my breath until he finally says something in that sexy, low rumbling voice of his.

“Do you want this? Or are you still mad at me over what happened last night?”

The last thing I’m feeling right now is anger. “I’m not mad.”

“But do you want this?” He touches my lips again with his, so soft, a tease really and I lean into him when he pulls away. “Open your eyes, Lucy.”

I slowly open them to find his face in mine. So close I can count the dark eyelashes that rim his brilliant blue eyes, notice the little white scar that runs across the bridge of his nose in a fine line. That glimpse of imperfection on his otherwise totally perfect face is comforting somehow.

Silly, yes. But being with a man who’s so incredibly good looking, it’s flat out intimidating. Makes me wonder what he’s doing with plain ol’ me.

“Luce?”

His questioning tone reminds me that he asked me something and I tilt my head back farther, meeting his gaze. “Yes,” I whisper, knowing I should say no. He’s probably trouble. But he just might be worth it. “I want this.”

The pleased smile that curves his lips is nothing short of breathtaking. “Right answer,” he murmurs his mouth a hair away from mine.

Arrogant man.

I can’t take it anymore. She’s so damn tempting, so expectant yet nervous, I’m tired of holding back. I’ve played this waiting game long enough. I’ve never been a patient person. More like I tend to go after what I want without hesitation. My treatment of Lucy for the past few hours is about the most prime example of me being patient you’ll ever see.

She shifts against me, her hand coming up to rest on my shoulder, her touch burning me straight through, and that’s it. My patience snaps.

Tilting my head, I cup the side of her face with one hand and kiss her. Consume her. She parts her lips beneath mine, her tongue tentatively darting out and I groan, my tongue sliding against hers. I slip my other arm around her waist and pull her in, as close as I can get her and she comes willingly.

So perfectly willing. God, what she does to me. I can’t explain. Can’t begin to wrap my head around it so I just…let this happen. Fall into it, fall into Lucy, my need for her slowly but surely consuming me.

Her scent surrounds me, as does her hair, which tickles my skin. It nags at me, this scent I’m familiar with but can’t quite place. She’s half sprawled across my lap as we continue to kiss and I pull her harder so she ends up on top of me, her legs on either side of my hips as she straddles me.

Much like our position last night. Though at this moment, the last thing I’m feeling is drunk and sleepy.

“Gabe,” she whispers against my lips after she breaks the kiss. I shift my head and race my mouth down her neck, kissing and licking and nipping her skin. She shivers and moans, her fingers bunching the fabric of my T-shirt and I want to feel her hands on my bare skin.

She says my name again and I wonder if she’s trying to get out something else. My ego butts in at this precise moment. Am I that good? Do I obliterate her brain cells with only my mouth? I know she’s just about doing the same to me. “What Luce?”

“Are you—do you think this chair will support our um, weight?” Her question is hesitant and she sounds so unsure, so fucking worried, that I get sort of pissed.

Her lack of confidence when it comes to her weight is ridiculous.

“Hey.” I pull away from her slightly, my hands cupping her face, my gaze on hers. She stares at me with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation and I lean forward, pressing my forehead to hers. “Quit with all the worry about your weight.”

“But—”

I silence her with my lips, kissing her so thoroughly that when I end it, she seems to rock a little. Like I spun her out or something. I like that. I like it a lot. “We’re not going to break this couch. You need to cut yourself some slack.”

“It’s just that…”

“Sshh.” I slide my hands down. Down, down, down. Along her waist, her hips, her outer thighs, the back of her knees then up again, over the same path, letting my hands linger on her ass. I squeeze her there, slow and easy and her eyes fall closed, her lips parting on a silent moan.