I slipped my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled, bringing my body flush against his again. “You . . .” I struggled for words that could escape the gasping breath I was taking. “You’re amazing.”

A slow, sexy smile spread across his face, and a rush of pure lust hit me in my lower belly. I’d never felt it with such intensity in my life. “Ember,” he whispered against my lips, threading his fingers through my hair as it pulled loose of its pins, and sank back into my mouth.

Yes. Yes. Yes. I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles in the small of his back. He alternated his kisses between long and deep and small nibbles, scraping my lower lip between his teeth. It was driving me insane. My fingers itched to touch him, so I did, running my hands up into his short hair to slip them down his wide back, dipping into the curves and hollows of his spine. His skin felt smooth and warm, and I wanted to know how it tasted.

I broke away from him and forced his head to the side none-too-gently. His aroused laugh said he didn’t mind. The counter brought us nearly equal in height, and I drew his neck down to me, running my tongue up his pounding pulse. He tasted like sin and heaven, all in one man. His breath expelled in a large rush, and I had about two seconds of feasting on his skin before he took control again.

He tugged on my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck to the gentle scrape of his teeth. Holy. Shit. He licked and sucked, sending jolts of electricity down my neck, raising goose bumps on my flesh before the chills raced right between my thighs and became something much hotter. I grabbed on to the waistband of his jeans, desperate for an anchor before I melted into a puddle on the freaking counter.

He tugged on the sleeves of my sweater, and I fumbled in my haste to get the thing off. I wanted his hands on my skin. I needed more of the rush, whatever his touch was setting off in me. He dropped kisses along my neck to my exposed shoulders, tracing his way to my elbow, where he licked the inside. I’d never thought of that as an erogenous area, but, um . . . yes, please.

His hands skipped to my knees and began an upward attack, skimming over the tops of my thighs. Everything within me clenched, waiting for the touch . . . that didn’t come. He gripped the lace hem of my camisole and retreated long enough to gauge my reaction. I lifted my arms above my head; I was more than okay with this. He slowly dragged it up my body, but stopped as the lace covered my eyes, pinning my hands to the cabinets behind me with one of his hands. My breath hitched the second before he covered my mouth with his again. Damn, he could kiss. With my hands captured above me, I had no control. I could only accept what he gave.

He gave me everything. He kissed the breath out of me until I whimpered, arching against him for contact. Blinded by lace, every touch felt more intense, every sigh louder. Then he slipped my camisole from my eyes and laid it on the counter with my sweater.

I sucked air into my lungs in heaves. Thank God, he was in the same state. I launched at him, pulling the short strands of his hair to bring his mouth, his body closer. I wanted everything. Now.

He unhooked my bra with one hand, cradling my face with the other, and the wait to feel his hands on me was torture. He slid both hands under my bra, cupping my breasts, and I shrugged out of the straps. Finally.

The bra landed with the camisole, and my head banged against the cabinet behind me as I gave myself over to what Josh was doing with his hands. He put his teeth back to my neck, kissing a path down my chest until he expertly tongued my breasts, and I started to fly apart. I couldn’t control the moans that ripped from my throat any more than I could halt what my body was screaming for. I clutched his head, losing myself in every sensation he rocketed through me.

He rose up, kissing my mouth once, twice, before leaning his forehead against mine. We both struggled to maintain our breathing. “God, Ember.”

I said the only thing I could think of. “More.”

He lifted his head, staring into my eyes like he could see through my soul. “This isn’t what you want.”

I watched his eyes darken as I dragged my fingernails lightly down his smooth chest, tracing the ridges of his muscles. “Yes, it is. Please don’t stop.” Was that really my breathless, pleading voice?

He closed his eyes, and the muscles in his jaw flexed. He was fighting for control. His hands stroked down my waist, squeezing lightly before he let go to grasp the counter. He was pulling away. This couldn’t stop! Not when I felt this good, this alive. “Please, Josh,” I pleaded.

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He bent his head like he was praying.

“I’m a virgin, not a moron.” Virgin. How many girls had steady boyfriends their sophomore year in college and still remained virgins? I shifted my seat on the counter; my insides were throbbing. “Josh, please?” He let out a deep breath, every muscle in his torso contracting. Every word I could think of to describe how incredibly hot he was contained four letters. Damn. I wanted that skin over me, around me, in me. “Please put your hands on me?”

He growled, the sound feral, carnal, and attacked, devouring my mouth and stealing my soul. He wanted me; I felt that much between my thighs when he pulled my rear off the countertop. I squeezed my ankles behind his waist and tightened my grip on his neck as he lifted me by my ass and began walking toward the back hallway. The strength in his arms was incredibly hot, and if he turned me on any more I was going to be clawing my way into his pants before we could find a bed.

“Which one is yours?”