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“It’s okay,” he says gently.

Still breathing hard, I meet his eyes. It’s really not okay. It’s not okay at all.

“I want him out of my head,” I say vehemently, refusing to even say Ethan’s name out loud. “Gone.”

“I know.” Noah brings my hand to his lips and brushes a kiss over my knuckles. “But how about we work up to it slowly?”

My eyes follow his lips as he flips my hand over and kisses the inside of my wrist. Swallowing, I ask, “How do we do that?”

“Like this.” Noah presses another kiss to my skin, this one above my wrist.

Slowly, the panic subsides, giving way to pleasure. I hold my breath as his mouth moves over my arm. But all that air rushes from my lungs when he kisses the inside of my elbow.

He smiles. “Does it tickle?”

“A little.”

Noah continues up, taking his time and nearly driving me mad. He kisses my shoulder, grazing my skin ever so gently with his teeth. He moves my dress strap, kissing the skin it once protected, and then moves it back in place.

His lips travel the curve of my neck and then across my throat. He continues his path down my other arm, until hereaches my hand. I expect him to stop, but he kisses the inside of my palm and then the tips of each of my fingers.

I’m on fire—molten like the honey in his eyes.

And then my phone rings.

20

“Ignore it,”I command breathlessly. “Don’t stop.”

But Noah’s already glanced at the screen. Why did I leave it on the bed, of all places?

“It’s your dad,” he says mildly, but he sounds like he’s containing a groan.

I place my hands on either side of his head and direct his attention back to me. “I don’t care.”

“He’ll worry if you don’t answer.”

“I’ll call him later.”

But Noah doesn’t listen. He kisses me one last time, chastely, and shifts me off his lap. “We’ll be sleeping later, and our five minutes are already up.”

Freaking. Heck.

“Hello,” I say into my phone, glaring at Noah.

My boyfriend chuckles under his breath and leaves the bed, sitting in a chair by the table.

“I have you on speakerphone, Pip,” Dad says. “Mom’s here. Tell us about Miami. Have you seen Florida Man yet?”

“What about an alligator?” Mom asks before I can answer.

“Any expensive cars?”

“What’s the weather like? They’re expecting a tropical storm to hit Louisiana in a week.”

“Noah’s behaving himself, isn’t he?” Dad demands. “You tell me if he tries something, and I’ll fly down and pick you up.”

I rub my temples, realizing this isn’t going to be a quick chat. “I’ve seen lots of Florida men, no alligators on the beach so far, several expensive-looking cars, and Louisiana is a couple states away, so we should be safe.”