She wanted to feel this—whatever this was. As long as she kept her head on straight and above water, she could handle him and her own conflicting feelings. Couldn’t she? The flutter moved from her stomach to her chest. Maybe she wasn’t even thinking straight, but who could blame her? This man was walking, breathing sin.

“Alana,” he murmured, brushing his lips over hers. His breath was enticingly hot. “Tell me.”

Blinking her eyes open, she barely contained a sigh when her eyes met his. “You are really impatient.”

He grinned, and her chest spasmed at the almost boyish quality to it. “You have no idea.”

Her hands smoothed out against his chest and trembled. He didn’t look away, holding her stare with a level of passion that stirred tendrils of yearning deep inside her. “Should we be doing this?” she whispered.

“This is the only thing we should ever be doing.” He pressed his forehead against hers and slid his hand through her damp hair, twisting his fingers into the mass. He captured her in his hold. “I can promise you that there won’t be a second of this you won’t enjoy.”

She wet her lips nervously and his gaze heated. “What about afterward?”

“What about it?”

Good question, but a dull ache pierced her chest. She pushed it away. “I don’t just sleep around.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing any sleeping.”

Her fingers curled as his words sent a spasm through her. “I don’t have sex with just anyone.”

Chandler made a deep sound in his chest. “I’m happy to hear that.” He shifted slightly, drawing her closer to the edge of the tub. “You want this just as badly as I do.”

God’s honest truth, she did. Her body trembled with the thought of it, but it had been so long since she’d been with anyone that she doubted her vagina would even know what to do. “I do, but…”

His tongue flicked over her lips with a dark promise as the hand under her breasts slid around the small of her back. “How about this. No sex.”

“No sex?”

He laughed. “Let me clarify. No penetration. We’ll take this slow.”

Alana understood what he was saying, but her brain was slow to process it. He didn’t want to have sex with her? At least not full-out sex? There was a tiny part of her that was stupidly disappointed, but she refused to give much thought to that.

The hand on her back slipped lower, and she bit down on her lip to stop the moan building in her throat from escaping. What did she have to lose by taking what he was offering? They weren’t going to actually have sex and she was a grown adult, more than capable of having a little fun.

As their eyes met, Alana was struck again by the hunger in his gaze. He wanted this—wanted her—and there was something unequivocally powerful in that. Before she could change her mind or let common sense intrude and leave her aching all night without fulfillment and in an even worse mood tomorrow, she nodded.

Chandler froze, his mouth inches from hers. “Is that a yes?”

She nodded again.

“Say it,” he said in a low, almost dangerous voice. “Say you want me to please you.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and she was unable to look away from those dark-lashed eyes of his. “I want you to please me.”

Chandler didn’t hesitate.

Those words seemed to unlock something primal in him. He snaked an arm around her waist and lifted her from the tub. His strength shocked her, though she shouldn’t have been surprised. While she’d hid—i.e. sulked—upstairs after returning from their shopping trip, she’d seen him disappear into a room downstairs full of weights and exercise equipment. The man was all muscle.

Her feet didn’t touch the floor until they were beside the bed. With a barely contained urgency, he stripped away the towel, and cool air rushed over her flushed skin. She moved to cover herself, but he caught her arms.

“Don’t hide from me.” His gaze traveled over the length of her body, lingering in some areas longer than other. “You’re beautiful.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “I’m already naked. You don’t have to ply me with compliments.”

“I mean it.” He took her hand as he sat on the bed. Lifting his head, he stared up at her. Staying before him completely naked while he was clothed had her at a disadvantage. He tugged her between his thighs and then settled his hands on her hips. “I want to look my fill, so when it’s later and I’m alone, all I have to do is close my eyes to see your body while I make myself come.”

Holy God, her ears were scorched.

“Do you do that a lot?” she asked, breathless.

“Jerk off?” His lips tipped up as he moved his large hands along the curve of her waist, stopping below her aching breasts. His searching gaze seared her body. “Or jerk off thinking about you? The answer is yes to both.”

Her breath stilled in her chest as he felt the light weight of her breasts, his fingers coming tantalizingly close to their peaks. “You’re lying.”

“I never lie.” The conviction in his voice was undeniable. “Every single fucking night since you showed up at my door. I’d send you running if I told you what some of my fantasies involved.”

She wanted to know. Details—lots of details, but then his fingers moved over her breasts and the ability to speak went out the window. Catching her nipples between his fingers, he watched her closely as he rolled them with his thumb and then plucked at them. They hardened and ached for him.

“You were having a nightmare,” he said quietly, teasing her.

“W-what?”

“When you were bathing. I heard you cry out,” he explained. “That’s why I came in there.”

“Oh.” Her thoughts were muddled in a sensual haze. “It was just a dream.”

He pulled her closer and then his mouth was on her breast, licking over the peak and then tugging on it with his teeth. The sharp burst of pleasured pain was instantly soothed with a lap of his tongue. He alternated between the quick nips and licks until her head fell back. She cried out, her body shuddering even as it tightened deliciously.

Chandler suddenly pulled back, and her eyes flew open. She stared at him in disbelief. “You stopped!”

“For now.” He sent her a fleeting grin and then pulled his shirt off over his head.

His body…she hadn’t forgotten how perfect it was. The broad, muscled shoulders, hard pecs, and a stomach that was rippled and chiseled like rock. He was 100 percent male, not an inch of flab on his body. Her gaze found a puckered, circular scar on his shoulder, the skin a deeper pink than the rest of his body. She wanted to ask how he got it, because to her, it really looked like a bullet wound.

“Turn around.”

Her brows shot up. “What?”

Holding his shirt between his hands, he spun it until it was stretched long and thin. His eyes met hers and a dark, dangerous allure filled the blue of his eyes. “Turn around, Alana.”

Her heart jumped in her chest as a sharp, almost painful lick of pleasure pulsed through her. Her eyes fixed on his shirt, and she couldn’t help but think about what he wanted to do with it and all the things she’d heard about how Chandler liked to give pleasure. Part of her wanted to be turned off by it, to be disgusted, but she wasn’t.

Every cell in her body swelled. A tiny spark of fear blossomed in her chest, but it wasn’t that she was afraid of him. More like afraid of how she’d respond. But she took a deep breath and did as he asked.

A hand grazed over the curve of her bottom, causing her to jerk. She felt him behind her, standing. The heat from his body warmed hers. “Chandler?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, skimming a hand over her hip and then to her arm. He pulled it back behind her. “You have to trust me for this. Do you?”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she swallowed. “Yes.”

“That’s my girl.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and then guided her other arm back behind her.

She knew what he was going to do, but it still came as a shock when she felt the cloth draping over her wrists. A dark thrill that should’ve surprised her lit up her blood and scattered her senses. Was he…?

Chandler tightened the makeshift bond, securing her wrists behind her back. So the rumors and the whispered talk about Chandler were dead-on.

He turned her around, but she kept her gaze trained on the line between his pecs. “Hey,” he said, placing the tips of his fingers under her chin and guiding her gaze up. “You have to be okay with this. If not—”

“I’m okay.” She wiggled her fingers and tested the bonds. She could move her hands, but not far. Heat coursed over her cheeks. “I’m just…”

“Fucking stunning?” he supplied, and her lips cracked into a grin. He clasped her cheeks and lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss was different. Slower. Deeper. He tasted her, drawing her deep within him, and she melted into the touch. With a deep, animalistic groan, he shifted, and the next second she was on her back and he hovered above her. The look in his eyes caused the air to catch in her throat.

“Look at you.” He slid a palm between her breasts, stopping below her navel. “I could stare at you forever.”

“I hope not.”

“Patience,” he murmured, lowering his head.

Patience was not a virtue she appreciated, but Chandler wasn’t going to be sped up. He took his time kissing her lips, and then he ran his mouth along her jaw, down her throat, and between her breasts. He tongued the soft swell of her breast, traveling up and then around the aching point. He came so close, but always skated away at the last second. Her nipples were pouty, hard, and aching by the time his hot mouth covered one.