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My lips twitch. "Only if you let me live up to the name."

And then she kisses me.

Not a soft kiss. Not a curious kiss.

This one's all heat and want and the frustration of a hundred lingering glances and almost-touches. My hand slides up her thigh, slow and claiming, until she gasps.

She pulls me closer, straddling my lap, and I let my hands roam over the curve of her hips, the small of her back. That T-shirt is thin, but not thin enough. I slide my hands beneath it.

"You're even hotter like this, stretched out across my legs and all mine."

She nods, breathless. "Yes."

I lift the shirt slowly, touching the strip of skin I reveal inch by inch until it clears her head. Her hair tumbles down her back as she sits in just her tiny sleep shorts and a bra that looks way too delicate for my current state of mind.

"Jesus, Mandy."

"That bad?"

I shake my head. "That good. That fucking good."

She laughs, nerves and heat all tangled up, and I reach for her again. My hands span her ribs, my thumbs brushing the swell of her breasts through lace.

"God, you’re beautiful," I whisper.

Her fingers find the hem of my shirt and tug it up. I help her, yanking it over my head and tossing it aside. Her hands splay across my chest, exploring, tracing the lines of muscle like she's committing them to memory.

"I like this version of you," she says.

"Shirtless and desperate for you?"

"Exactly."

I grin and slide my hands down her back again, tugging her forward until our bodies press together. Her skin is warm against mine, and I kiss her like I’m starving. Her hands wind around my neck, her legs tightening around my waist.

I shift us, laying her back on the couch, half-covered by the blanket as I hover over her.

She pulls me down, mouth finding mine again, and I can feel her heart racing under my palm.

I trail kisses down her neck, along the curve of her shoulder, then lower. My mouth finds the top of her breast and she moans, arching into me.

"Jesus, Nate," she whispers, voice shaking. "You're going to kill me."

I grin against her skin. "There are worse ways to go."

Her laugh is breathless, delicious. "Cocky much?"

"Confident," I murmur, brushing my lips across her again. I take her hand and put it on my pants. "You feel that? That’s what you do to me."

I dip lower, trailing kisses across the swell of her breasts. My teeth find the delicate clasp at the center of her bra, and I tug it open with a slow, deliberate bite. My mouth covers her, sucking gently, then harder, until her nipples peek and she cries my name like a prayer I never knew I needed to hear.

My hand glides up her thigh, slow and reverent, and I kiss her again, drinking her in. Her skin’s warm beneath my palm, soft and begging to be touched. My fingers trail higher, sliding beneath the hem of her loose sleep shorts. She tenses when I reach the thin barrier of her panties, the heat of her nearly searing through the fabric. I touch her lightly at first, over the fabric, teasing, until she squirms under me. Then I slip myfingers in from the side, just enough to feel the slick heat of her, and my pulse slams in my throat. "Fuck, Mandy..." I murmur against her skin, voice low and wrecked. "You're so damn wet for me."

My fingers find her center, rubbing slow, lazy circles, and she unconsciously parts her legs, a soft sigh slipping from her lips.

But then she stiffens.

Not much. Just enough.