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He smiles, and my stomach twists. He is so handsome I can hardly stand it.

He’s also naked. So am I. He won’t let me into his bed wearing so much as a sock.

I forgot how much I loved that, and how much it turns me on. Heat, tight and heavy, has already settled between my legs, and even though I’m a little sore, I’m too hungry for him to care.

The pressure in my chest lessens.

“Mornin’, baby,” he says, voice like gravel. “Sleep okay?”

I bite my lip, trying in vain to keep from smiling too hard. “Slept great. You?”

“Well enough, all things considered.” He runs a hand across his stubble before reaching for me, trailing his fingertips over my bare back underneath the covers. “Down for—”

“Yes,” I breathe, my body prickling to life as his fingers move lower, tickling the side of my breast. His thumb arcs half an inch from my nipple, and I roll onto my side, giving him access.

He groans and cups my breast, that thumb arcing over my nipple now. Ribbons of desire unfurl inside my skin, my blood. The beat between my legs grows stronger. Hungrier.

I try to scoot closer to Nate, but Lucy’s in the way.

“Lucy,” Nate grunts, his hands momentarily leaving my body to reach for the dog. “I love you, but you gotta go.”

I watch him sit up, Lucy tucked against his bare chest. I watch the way the firm globes of his ass flex as he strides to the door and sets Lucy down on the hardwoods, closing the door behind her.

I watch the way his dick bobs, hard, heavy, as he strides back to bed.

Nate is thick everywhere. His furred thighs, the hard planes of his stomach. The barrel of his chest and rounded slopes of his massive shoulders.

Yep. This beats the hell out of answering emails.

One side of his mouth kicks up. “Admiring the view?”

“You have the best dick ever.” I hold up the covers. “Your personality’s great too, but that cock . . .”

The mattress dips as he settles himself on his side next to me, immediately reaching between my legs. They fall apart as I roll onto my back, granting him access.

“It’s almost Christmas,” he says, parting me with his middle finger. He grazes my clit, and I suck in a breath, my hips already rocking into his touch, urging him to go inside, to tease, to give me more. “Should I put it in a box for you? My dick?”

I extend my neck to give his chin a playful bite. “No need. It’s gift enough just as it is.”

“You wake up wet, baby.” He plays with my pussy, nostrils flaring. Fingers making slick sounds. “Dream about me?”

I reach for his face. “Yes.”

I haven’t brushed my teeth and neither has he, but I kiss him anyway. He kisses me back, neither of us shying away from a deep, playful kiss that has me curling my toes.

“It was a wonderful dream,” I whisper into his mouth, digging my fingers into the hair on his chest.

“You,” he whispers back. “This. It’s a dream.”

His cock presses into my leg. My skin is wet with precum—he’s as ready as I am.

I suck on his bottom lip, teasing it between my teeth. He sinks a finger inside me, presses the knuckle of another to my clit.

“I have lots of dreams.” I pull back to meet his eyes. “But you’re the best one by far.”

An indent appears between his brows. “I’ve been in love with you since the beginning, you know. Even before I ever touched you.”

“I had to touch you,” I tease, and move my hand lower to grip his cock. “But then it was over for me too. Lightning fast.” I give him a firm tug. “Wanna make those babies you were talking about? I can stop taking my birth control today.”

He blinks, and for a split second, I worry I’ve spooked him. But then he circles his knuckle on my clit, gently thrusting his finger in and out, in. And then out.

His voice is even rougher than before when he speaks. “I was ready to make babies with you then. I’m ready to make them with you now. You sure you don’t wanna get married first, though?”

I grin. “That your way of proposing?”

“Milly, I’d marry you yesterday. I just wanna make sure we’re bein’ smart about this. You’re a romantic at heart, and what exactly is romantic about a shotgun wedding?”

“In our case?” I kiss his lips. “Everything.”

Laughing, he kisses me back. “I love you, Milly Beauregard.”

“I love you, Nathaniel Kingsley.”

The pressure in my chest is a distant memory. In its place rises a lightness, a flutter I can only describe as joy. Excitement for what we have. Hope for what’s to come.

I push him onto his back, giggling like an idiot as I climb on top of him, bracketing his hips with my knees. The covers fall away from my body, my nipples tightening to an almost painful degree in the sudden chill of the room. I put a hand on his chest, giving myself leverage to lift my hips.