“You’d better not,” Gray says. “That’s our car of love.”

Beside me, Fi makes a gagging face, sticking her finger in her mouth as if she wants to vomit. I chuckle and settle down closer to her, taking her slim hand in mine.

“Anyway,” Ivy drawls, her smile still in place. “When Leo was born I thought it better to have a family car.”

“And I told her it would be over my left nut that we’d get a minivan.” Gray makes a face.

Ivy pats his knee. “And because I like his nuts—”

“Aaand we’re done,” Fi cuts in. Thank God. The word “nuts” calls attention to my own. They’re aching now.

The car’s gone quiet again. Gray turns up the stereo and drives. Which leaves me cocooned in darkness next to Fi. The lazy tones of Flunk drift over us, and my awareness becomes the soft breaths she takes. Her faint scent grows stronger—girly shampoo and a faint musk I realize, with a kick to the gut, is arousal.

I’m going to fuck her. I probably should phrase it nicer—make love to her or worship her body with my dick. Something like that. But I’m fairly certain my first time will be straight-up hard and frantic fucking. I just pray I can last more than a minute. That I can satisfy her.

The fear that I won’t makes my chest clench. I want to please Fi. More than please her. I want her to forget every guy who came before me. But aside from watching porn and reading up on certain techniques, I have all but zero applied experience, which vastly lowers my chances of giving her maximum satisfaction.

Why did I wait all this time? I know full well how important it is to practice. I should have just stopped overthinking and done it in college. Fucked my way past ignorance and accumulated some skills to do her right.

Fi’s thumb glides over my palm, barely a touch, but every nerve in my body seems to be tracking it. That tiny caress feels better than anything I’ve known. I turn into that touch, burrow my nose in her hair. No one on Earth smells like Fi. No one else makes that particular sound when she breathes. And the fact is, I’m glad I haven’t been with anyone else. I don’t want to touch anyone but her.

The tips of her fingers wander up my inner arm. Up and down. I feel the stroke like a phantom touch along the shaft of my cock. The weight of her stare has me realizing I’ve had my eyes squeezed shut, my teeth clenched so I don’t grab her here and now, haul her onto my hard dick.

Releasing a breath, I meet her gaze. In the darkness of the car, her wide eyes gleam. My breaths slow until I’m aware of every inhale, the way it stretches the muscles along my chest, how every measured exhale tightens my lower abs.

And still she strokes me, her touch feather light over my biceps, lingering at the knobby bone of my wrist. Jesus. She gives my index finger a little tug and it’s like she’s grabbed my dick. I grunt, swallow a louder moan.

And Fi watches it all, her expression rapt. I’m so under her spell that when she speaks, a low murmur meant for my ears only, I nearly jump out of my skin. “I can’t stop touching you,” she says.

“You hear me complaining?”

Her pretty lips curl. But the smile dies just as quickly, and she releases a soft breath. “This is the longest car ride ever.”

I can’t help it. I have to touch her. My hand slides up her thigh. I know beneath those tight jeans she’s smoother than silk, soft and lush. She trembles under my touch, and when I cup her heat, those plump thighs clench over my hand. I give her a squeeze. She’s damp, even through the thickness of her jeans. Fuck me.

“You aching here, Cherry?” I whisper, watching her eyes glaze over, her lids fluttering down.

Little white teeth bite down on her plush bottom lip as she gives the barest nod. My chest hitches. I push just a little harder and am rewarded with the sight of her lips parting, her brow knitting as if she’s fighting a whimper.

She grips my wrist, and I think she might push me away, but she holds me fast. Slowly, I grind my fingers in a circle. “Here is the only place I want to be,” I tell her, my voice a ghost in the dark.

She slumps against me, her open lips on my shoulder, her breath, humid and panting. Beneath her soft sweater, her nipples peak, hard buds that I want to test with my teeth, suck in my mouth.

I’m drifting downward, intent on doing just that, when the car halts, snapping the spell. Gray throws the interior into harsh light when he opens his door. Fi catches my eye. Her cheeks flush pink.

We’re here. And it’s going to happen.

Fiona

I swear my heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest as I take Dex by the hand and silently head up the stairs, aware of my sister’s and Gray’s stare but not caring. Dex follows me, his grip secure, his steps steady.

Truth is, I might be the one walking up those stairs first, but he’s the one leading me with that intense gaze of his, all hot and wanting. It prompts me to put one foot in front of the other. To rise higher and higher.

I tremble climbing the stairs. This is going to be Dex’s first time. And he’s giving that honor to me.

What surprises me is how much that matters. How much he matters.

When I’m with Dex, I’m not worrying if I’m good enough. Instead, I’m aware of my body, the way it feels, moves, and reacts to his. He puts me in a state of euphoria mixed with tight anticipation. He’s addicting, and I want all of him.

By the time we enter his room and close the door behind us, my knees are weak. I turn to face him, maybe to reassure him—I’m not even sure of what—and he’s on me. His mouth is hot and open, assured and taking what he wants. My pulse leaps. I suck in a breath and kiss him back, jumping up into his arms when he grabs my ass and lifts me high.