I look at Mateo then, his big body folded onto our measly kitchen chairs. His eyes are so warm and open and understanding. And it occurs to me that I went searching for something artificial with my list and found far more truth than I know what to do with.

I don’t know what I’m doing when I stand up from the table and hold out my hand to him. Our plates are still sitting there, and normally I would go straight to washing them and cleaning up after dinner, but I’ve already waited days for him.

And I’m tired of waiting. Time to really jump in the deep end.

Chapter 20

Mateo

I can’t read Nell’s expression when she stands up next to me. It’s not a look she’s ever given me, but just like everything else where she’s concerned, it makes me want her. I take the hand she offers and am shocked when she begins pulling me down the hallway in the direction of her bedroom.

I try to control my reaction, to stop all my blood from rushing south. She could just want to show me something. She could . . . fuck. I’m sure there are any number of reasons she could be taking me back to her room, but I can only think of one. And her bed, and her skin, and her taste on my tongue, and the cries I’m determined to wring out of her.

She nudges the door open, but instead of turning on the overhead light, she moves toward the bedside lamp. She flicks it on, and the amber glow shines up on her, bathing half her face in light. I stay by the door. One last-ditch effort to control myself in case this isn’t what I think it is.

She doesn’t say anything. And the seconds of waiting, the anticipation, only make me harder. I watch her struggle to decide on what to say, and when she sighs, I think maybe she’s changed her mind. That she can’t bring herself to ask for what I think we both want.

But I should know by now that Nell will always find a way to shock me. She reaches for the bottom of her sweater, and in one quick move pulls it up and over her head. My gorgeous shy girl has done more than bloom. She’s fucking brilliant. Brighter than the sun, strong enough to pull me right out of orbit. She’s wearing the same black lacy bra that she’d flashed me the last time I saw her. But this time I get more than a glimpse—oh no, I look my fill. Her long neck gives way to dainty shoulders. The bra has her tits pushed up and together, and praise Jesus for Victoria and her secrets. My eyes drop to the narrowing of her torso, the flare of her hips, the soft indentation of her belly button. Her skin looks smooth there and paler than her arms and her face, and I have the strongest urge to leave my mark there, to tease that uncharted skin with my tongue and teeth. Her jeans rest at her hips, stopping my further exploration, but I can remember the vague outline of her legs in the dark of my truck. I certainly remember the feel of them, squeezing at my hips as she came.

That memory snaps me back into action, and I step fully inside the room and close the door. I hear her exhale, and look back to her gaze.

“I thought maybe you . . .” She trails off.

“Would say no?”

She nods. I cross to her and use one finger to tip her chin up so that she faces me. “I told you before . . . nothing you could do can make me not want you.” I take her hand and draw it to my cock, straining at the confines of my jeans. She smoothes her hand over it once, and then again, no hesitation.

“You’re already . . .”

“Hard? Yeah, sweetheart. I pretty much always am with you.”

“But we haven’t even kissed.”

“I’ve been thinking about kissing you again since the moment our last kiss stopped.”

I’m trying to think of a less crude way to tell her that her tits always do the trick, too, when she unfastens the button at the top of my jeans. I suck in a breath at the slight ease in pressure and hold it as she slides my zipper down. Her knuckles accidentally bump against my erection, and I groan. She pauses and looks up at me, and her eyes are calculating. This time her touch is not accidental. She drags a finger over the bulge in my boxer briefs, and the jolt of need I feel is so similar to hunger that I barely resist the urge to pin her to the bed and taste her.

She moves her fingers to the waistband of my jeans and pushes them down. While she does that, I reach back to grab my shirt and pull it over my head. I kick off my shoes and step out my jeans, and it’s my turn to stand still while her eyes study me. Slowly, as her gaze moves over my chest, she lets her fingers trail in its wake. Tentatively, she circles her finger over my nipple in the way that I’ve done to her, and I fight a groan.

She smiles. “None of that, now. If I’m not allowed to hold back, you aren’t either.”

I can’t wait another second to kiss that smart mouth. I wrap my hand around her neck and drag her closer. Her lips instinctively part under mine, her tongue eager and seeking, and there’s such a fucking change in her from the other night. She throws everything into the kiss, running her hands up my abdomen and over my chest and down my arms. I have no doubt that she’s absolutely in this moment. She’s not thinking about anything else, and my cock pulses in response. She breaks away with a gasp, and looks down between us.

There’s such wonder in her voice when she says, “It moved,” that I can’t stop my laugh.

“It does that.”

She reaches out to touch me again, but it’s not enough to feel her fingers over the fabric. I want her warm skin, those small fingers. But first, I want us on an even playing field.

“Take off your jeans,” I tell her.

While she’s shimmying them off her hips, I lose my underwear, gripping the base of my dick tight when her legs come into view. She bends to push her jeans off the rest of the way, and her chest nearly spills out of her bra.

I shift my eyes toward the ceiling because now I’m picturing her on all fours, the way her breasts would fall, waiting for my hands to cup them as I slide into her from behind. Damn.

I have to fight not to let my thoughts run ahead of my actions. But it’s hard. There are too many things I want to do to her, too many ways I want to have her.

But she’s a virgin. And I’ve never been someone’s first before. Not even with Lina. And the thought of it now feels too big to comprehend.

While I’m still looking up, her hand wraps around my cock, pulling me back to the present, and I shudder out a breath. Her eyes are trained on her hand where it touches just above mine, and I release my hold to give her control. I flex, and I move in her hand this time, and she makes this small noise of satisfaction.