He let her stare at him for a while, a little smile on his face, before he reached for her. He slowly unzipped the black hoodie she’d been wrapped in all night and tossed it to the floor. Then he stopped and bit his lip, an indecisive look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. Something had better not be wrong. She needed this.

“Not a single thing,” he said. “I just can’t decide if I’d rather take your top off first, or your pants. On the one hand, I’m generally more of a boob man than an ass man, but on the other, your ass has been driving me wild in those pants all fucking day.”

It took everything in her not to strike a pose at that.

“All day?” she asked. “But I’ve been sitting on my ass for the past seven hours. How is it even possible that it’s been driving you wild?”

He shook his head.

“Did you forget that before we got in the car, we had been on set together for a full day, a day where you repeatedly ran up and down stairs and I had to keep looking away so I wouldn’t ogle you?”

Oh yeah. She had forgotten that.

“Then I would say you should save the best for last, but then, it’s all pretty great,” she said.

He pulled her hard against him and kissed her again, his hands first gripping her ass, then moving up and down her body until she was breathless. He put his hands in her hair and tugged out her ponytail holder. Her hair cascaded down onto her shoulders.

“My God, you’re incredible,” he said. Then he grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head.

Thank God she’d worn her best bra today, instead of the industrial sports bra the well-meaning but clueless shoot stylist had sent over. She’d regretted the good—but not particularly comfortable—bra a few times during the seven-hour drive, but the look on Ben’s face made her mentally high-five herself.

He traced the edges of her bra with his fingers. Up and around, swooped down into the valley between her breasts, brushed over her nipples with his thumbs, the whole time staring at her in awe. She wished she could hold on to the look on his face forever.

Then he looked her in the eye and bit his bottom lip in the fucking sexiest way she’d ever seen.

“I think . . . I think I’m ready.” And with that, he hooked his thumbs through her waistband and pulled her yoga pants all the way down. She kicked them across the room. And then she remembered something. She slid her thong off and tossed it to him. He caught it in one hand and smiled at her. Oh yes, this guy was good.

She grinned. Then she turned slowly around for him.

“Was it worth the wait?” she asked.

There was a time when she never would have done this. When her body hadn’t been something to be proud of, but something she desperately wanted to change. When she’d covered herself up in both public and private, and known to her core that her life would improve dramatically as soon as she became a size six.

It turned out that her life improved dramatically as soon as she learned to stop thinking like that.

Ben pulled her back to him, ran a hand over her full, round ass, and shook his head.

“I definitely was not ready,” he said, and she laughed out loud. He dangled her thong from one finger. “I mean, if I’d thought hard about this—which, by the way, I spent all day trying my best not to do—I would have realized you must be wearing a thong, because there wasn’t a single panty line to be seen, but again, I was trying, so very hard, not to daydream about your fucking perfect ass that it never occurred to me, and now I’m just . . . overcome.”

She ran a finger gently up and down the outline of his hard cock, still encased in his black boxer briefs, and smiled.

“Mmm, you don’t seem overcome here,” she said.

“Keep touching me like that, and I will be,” he said.

He reached around and unhooked her bra, and she let it fall to the floor.

“Anna?” he said, after a few seconds of staring at her boobs. This was the first time in quite a while that she wasn’t even tempted to tell a man who talked to her boobs instead of her face where her eyes were.

“Ben?” she responded.

He put his hands on her waist.

“Why, exactly, have we spent all this time ignoring that big, beautiful bed right behind you? Because I’m going to tell you right now, to do what I want to do with you for the next few hours, I’m going to need a bed underneath us.”

While he’d been talking, he’d slowly backed her against the bed, and then pushed her over, so she fell onto it. He stood there and looked at her. She moved all the way up onto the bed and smiled up at him.

“Excellent call,” she said.

Before she could blink, he crawled on top of her.

“Yes, I thought so, too,” he said. And then he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

Holy shit, if this was what he meant by being a boob man, she never again wanted to have sex with someone who was not a boob man. The way he licked and sucked and squeezed felt like everything she’d ever wanted. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, she wanted him to keep doing this forever, no, now she wanted him to touch her in one specific place and he wasn’t touching her there and she felt like she was going to scream in glorious frustration.

And then he slowly slid down her body and pushed her legs open.

“Now,” he said, as his fingers tiptoed their way up her thighs. “I said I was a boob man, and that’s true, I am. But I am also very fond of another body part.”

She propped herself up on her elbows to watch him.

“Which body part is that?” she asked, pretty sure she knew the answer.

“This one,” he said. He—finally—slid one finger inside her, and she let out a deep sigh. She could feel his breath on her, which meant he was almost there, and then . . .

“You know,” he said, “if you—”

“You are the worst fucking tease in all of California!” she said.

He grinned up at her.

“Oh, you want this?”

And then his tongue was on her. It was hard and it was fast and it was exactly what she wanted; his fingers inside her, one hand gripping her breast, and his incredible mouth and tongue making her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time. She collapsed onto the pillows and writhed under his tongue. He kept a firm grip on her body, and she could feel the strength and power behind his touch.

She whimpered, which made him go even faster. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, and she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, and then he squeezed her nipple and she threw a pillow over her mouth so she could scream.