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She turns and slips her hands around my neck. “Pick me up.”

I smile, reaching down and grabbing the backs of her thighs. I lift her into my arms, her legs circling my waist.

Her breasts press into my chest. “Let me see,” I tell her.

I drop my eyes, and she leans back, her body coming into view. Her breathing turns shallow, her breasts rising and falling, and I’m dying to lay her down and touch her like she touched me. With my mouth.

“Take me to the couch.” She watches me as I stare at her, my heart starting to thump harder in my chest.

I want to.

But this is how it always is. I want it, and then I don’t, and I don’t want to see that look in her eyes. That look that says I’m not a man.

I…

I try to catch my breath, but everything’s on fire. My body, my head, my hands…

She leans into my ear. “I’m almost done,” she murmurs. “I just want to do one more thing.”

I exhale, swallowing through the dryness in my mouth. Okay.

I step back, her in my arms, and drop to the couch, right back where we started.

She leans back, letting me take in the view a second longer, and then… she explores. She presses into me, gliding her hands over my shoulders, down my arms, her eyes following the trail of her fingers as she traces the muscles and cords in my arms, one after the other.

I watch her study me like she’s learning what a man looks like for the first time, and then her eyes and hands go to my chest. She feels my collarbone, grazes her finger over my tattoo, and rubs her thumbs over my pecs before she sits up and lets me stare at her while she traces my abs, the slight tickle of her fingertips making me flex.

My dick swells so goddamn hard, and I gasp.

Fuck.

She climbs off, dropping to her knees between my legs and brings her mouth down on my stomach. Not kissing. Something like it, though. Pinching me so softly between her lips, up, down, over to the side of my torso, her hands moving up my arms and her head turning left to right, leaving no inch untouched.

I bulge, rushing with blood between my legs, and I know it’s pressing into her tits.

“Oh, God…” I can’t help it. I take her head, pressing her mouth to my stomach and watching her tongue dip out, licking me. “Again,” I tell her.

She does it again, and I blink long and hard, every fiber in my body about to explode.

“I can’t believe I’m licking the class president of Shelburne Falls.”

I laugh, dropping my head back.

She climbs up, wrapping herself around me and kissing my jaw. The warmth between her legs makes me ache.

She whispers over my skin. “Say ‘you make me hard, Rebel.’”

I grab her ass in both hands, grinding us together just once as I hover over her mouth. “You make me hard, Rebel.”

And I do once more so she feels it.

Circling my neck with her arms, she hugs me tight, squeezing me with her thighs and laying her head on my shoulder.

She’s done.

My dick hurts a little, needing release, but I know it’s time to stop. And I’m grateful she’s the one who stopped it, so I don’t have to feel guilty. I wrap my arms around her, too, holding her tight.

I close my eyes. Everything she did felt good. I didn’t do much for her, though. I want her to feel good.

“You have an amazing body,” she says, her head on my shoulder facing away from me.

I smile to myself. At least all the working out pays off. I have to do something with all of my pent-up energy. No one ever said that to me before, though. I think most girls feel like it would be shallow—like they only notice how you look, but it’s actually nice to hear.

If makes me feel pretty when you do that. Like you like how I look.

“I like the way you look,” I tell her.

“I like the way you look, too.”

We sit there a while, her holding me as much as I’m holding her while we try to cool down.

But I’m more relaxed than I thought I’d be. She stopped. Like she promised. There was no pressure. No agenda. No secret bet like some of the girls did in high school to see who could get me into bed first.

She didn’t want more anyway. I can stop.

I can explore. And then I can stop.

“Can I…” I start, feeling braver all of a sudden. “Can we do a little more? Can I see…more?”

I slip my hand inside the waist of her underwear, and her body goes rigid. She rises up, the heat gone from her face, and climbs off of me. She swipes her T-shirt off the floor and covers herself, lifting her defiant little chin.