Closing my eyes, I let out a long sigh as I slowly pulled my hand away, letting it rest on my belly. God, my hormones were out of control.

Actually, my emotions were out of control, but in a very good way. My lips curved up at the corners, forming a small, sated smile. I blinked open my eyes, my gaze focusing on the ceiling. My muscles were nothing and moving from this bed was the last thing I wanted, but I…

I felt…alive.

* * * *

Colton really did know the way to my heart.

Crab rangoons.

When he showed up Sunday evening, he’d brought a delicious array of takeout, including my weakness, which existed in the form of crab and cream cheese. He’d also brought a movie with him since I’d replaced the TV a few days ago. It wasn’t nearly as nice or as big as the first one, but it would have to do until I could justify spending hundreds of dollars on a larger TV. He’d brought with him a remake of an old-school horror film that had traumatized me as a small child, and when we finished dinner, he popped the movie in.

We started off sitting side by side, but before we were even fifteen minutes into the movie, Colton stretched out his long body across the couch. He managed to coax me down so I was lying beside him, my head tucked against his arm and his hand resting lightly on my hip.

At that point, I pretty much stopped watching the movie.

Kevin and I had done this so many times, favoring bumming around the house many Saturday nights instead of going out. I expected there to be a pang of sorrow, but what I felt was a shadow of the hurt I had lived with in the months and even years after his death. I knew beyond a doubt that if Kevin was aware of what I was doing right now with Colton, he would be happy. Knowing that made it easy to relax against Colton.

But that relaxation quickly turned to keen awareness. With every breath Colton took, I was conscious of just how close we were. The scene of a screaming girl on the TV became nothing more than background noise as I focused on every part of our bodies that touched. The front of his thighs pressed against the back of mine. My bottom was almost cradled in his lap and his hard chest was against my back. I bit down on my lip as I wiggled a little, stopping the moment his fingers of the hand resting on my hip curled, bunching the thin material of the dress.

I thought about what I had done this afternoon, touching myself while thinking of him, and my body flushed hot. Not from embarrassment, but from sharp arousal.

“Are you watching the movie?” Colton asked, his voice deeper, rougher.

I had a choice. I could pretend that I was or I could fess up to the fact I had absolutely no interest in the movie at the moment and that it was him who had my attention. It wasn’t…easy to initiate this. My seduction skills were below amateur level, but what had I decided earlier? Not to be a coward. To live life despite the risk of getting hurt. To…to just let go.

Before I could give myself time to overthink, I shifted onto my back and lifted my gaze to his. Our eyes held for a moment and then his gaze dropped to my mouth. I knew that whatever I would say would probably be completely idiotic. I decided action was probably better than words.

Because words could be really hard.

I lifted my hand, pressing my palm against his clean-shaven cheek. My heart stuttered as he turned his head slightly, dropping a kiss against the center of my hand. Oh God, that was too sweet, almost too much. I started to pull my hand away, but I stopped myself as his gaze returned to mine. Drawing in a shallow breath, I guided his mouth to mine.

I kissed him, and I don’t know if he could read minds or if he really was a damn unicorn, but he let me set the pace, allowed me to play. I mapped out his mouth, covering every delectable centimeter, and when I wanted more, he opened his mouth to my searching kiss. I leisurely explored him, breathing in the taste of him.

Far too immersed in the sensations kissing him created, I wholeheartedly welcomed the moment he took over. His lips were demanding, and I yielded to him, letting out a breathless moan against his hot mouth as his hand finally moved from my hip, smoothing up over my breast. I sucked in a sharp breath. The dress had a built-in bra, and the thin cotton was no barrier against the heat of his hand.

I moaned into his mouth as his hand closed over my breast and kneaded gently. His chest rumbled against my side. “God, we’re not even twenty minutes into the movie.”

A tiny laugh escaped me. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Hell, do you even have to ask that?” His deft fingers found my pebbled nipple through the dress. Liquid fire poured through me. “I like to think it’s a damn good thing.”

I gasped for air. “I…I like the sound of that.”

“You do?” He shifted so his weight rested on his left arm as his right hand slipped under the neckline of my dress. My back arched. “Yeah, you do.”

“I do,” I admitted.

He lowered his mouth to mine once more, kissing me. “I don’t think I can do the gentleman thing any longer. I want to touch you.” His fingers plucked at my nipple, wringing a cry out of me. “But I really want to touch you elsewhere.”

My body shuddered. I had a good idea that I knew where “elsewhere” was. I closed my eyes and whispered, “I want that too.”

“Thank God.” His hand left my breast, and I nearly ached from the loss, but his hand was on the move again, smoothing down my stomach.

I blinked open my eyes, watching as he glided down my stomach, over my thigh. My breath lodged in my throat as he worked his hand under the skirt of my dress. I bit down on my lip as I gripped his arm. His gaze flicked to mine. “Don’t stop,” I said.

“No?” He kissed me, nipping at my lip as he lifted his head. When I shook my head, he fused our mouths together. His hand skated up my bare thigh, and then over the lacy edge of my panties.

I held my breath, partly due to the swirling pleasure building inside of me and I knew he could feel just how soft I was. There wasn’t an ounce of hardness to my thighs or my hips. He didn’t seem to notice or care, because his hand had made its way underneath my panties.

My hand tightened around his arm as his fingers reached the apex of my thighs. He brushed his lips over mine. “Open for me?”

Never in my life had there been three words that were hotter than that. My thighs parted, and his finger skimmed over my damp skin. The touch was barely there, but I jerked nonetheless.

“So sensitive,” he murmured. “I like that.”

My heart was pounding as he ran a lazy finger over my wet center and then he eased one finger in. A low sound worked its way out of me, and when his thumb pressed down on the buddle of nerves, I gasped out, “Colton.”