His gaze dropped to my raised, parted lips, and after a breath, he plunged. With one movement, he was on me, his tongue in my mouth, stroking, enflaming. I kissed him back just as fiercely. This was exactly what I needed, exactly who I needed. Josh.

Fuck the plan.

I leaned into him on my tiptoes, my heels still not bringing me level to him. His hands moved from my hips to my ass, and without strain, he lifted me against him, right where he somehow knew I needed him to be. There. God, yes. There. “Josh . . .” I groaned against his mouth, giving up every pretense of dancing.

His tongue moved in and out of my mouth, stoking the fire that was threatening to burn my body alive. I barely remembered we were on a dance floor. Kissing Josh robbed every logical thought from my head and left me with a base need: his body on mine. The ache between my thighs built with every onslaught of his mouth, like he had a direct line to my core.

He pulled his mouth away, his breathing hitched in a way that had me wanting to push him for more. “Fuck . . . December . . .”

Now that sounded like a plan I could go with. “Upstairs?” I asked, too turned-on to be embarrassed by what I was asking.

He leaned back, looking into my eyes. “Here?”

I brought his lips to mine, speaking against their softness. “You said whatever I need, right?” He nodded. “I need you to make this ache stop, Josh. You’re the only one who can.”

Without another word, he led me through the crowd. People reached out for him, calling his name, but he only acknowledged with a nod. A smile of feminine satisfaction spread across my face. His mind was only on me.

He pulled me up next to him at the steps, keeping his hand on the small of my back as we nearly ran up the carpeted staircase. He steered me to the left when the hallway split, entering the first room on the right. The noise from the party was muffled as he shut the door, the only light in the room coming from a lava lamp in the corner. That was all I saw before he spun me, pressing me back against the door. “Whose room?” I got out breathlessly, not really caring.

“Mark’s. He won’t mind.”

Josh’s eyes were dark, intense. He was as turned-on as I was, and I loved it. This time I attacked, bringing myself up to his mouth and sweeping my tongue inside, tasting nothing but the addicting flavor of Josh. He reached behind my knee and lifted my leg to curl against his hip, then ran his hand down the back of my thigh, under my dress, to my rear. My dress slid up my thighs to my waist. Good. Better access.

I rocked my hips into him as he ground against me. If he moved just a few more times like that, I was going to come against the damn wall. Yes, please. His mouth left mine to stroke his tongue down my neck, nipping and sucking as he went.

A sound like a whimper escaped my throat when he kissed his way across my collarbone and buried his nose into the valley between my breasts. “So damn sweet,” he muttered. His hands gathered the fabric around my waist and he tugged, popping my breasts free of the neckline. He nudged the line of my strapless bra down and flicked his tongue over my nipple.

He groaned, or I did. Whatever.

I held his head to me, needing more. Deeper. Like he read my mind, he obliged, pulling my nipple into his mouth and sucking. “Josh . . .” His name was ripped from me.

With my breast in his mouth, he carried me, turning toward the bed. He sank to the surface with me. His weight was perfect, holding me to the earth when I was ready to fly away. I slipped my legs down his hips, and he repositioned himself exactly where I needed him, pressed against the throbbing ache that seemed to grow more intense. I wanted all of him against me. I needed to feel his skin.

“Shirt,” I mumbled as I jerked up the ends of his button-down. He pulled away from me long enough to rip the shirt and undershirt over his head, leaving his bare chest above me. “You’re so incredible.” I ran my fingers down the planes and angles of his chest, over the swirls of ink, stopping to stroke the carved lines of his sexy abdominals. It was no wonder half the student body was panting after Josh Walker.

So was I.

“December.” Desire raged through his eyes along with another emotion I was almost scared to name. Tenderness? Caring? He stroked the sides of my face, lowering himself to capture my mouth in a gentle kiss. “You have no idea how perfect you are.”

I dragged my nails down his back, and he drove his hardness against me. I grasped his mouth-watering rear at the same time he claimed my mouth again, bringing me higher and higher. I would never get enough of this frenzy he put me into. I would never get enough of him.

I moved my hips against him, seeking relief from the pressure. “I’m on fire,” I admitted, any embarrassment swept away with the need coiling in my body.

His eyes locked onto mine with a gaze so hot I was amazed I didn’t spontaneously combust. “Me too.” He kissed a path down my chest, stopping to suck on my breasts one after another as his hands worked their way up from my knees, skimming the insides of my thighs. Yes. Yes. Yes. The wicked grin that came across his face told me I’d just said that out loud. He skimmed over the debauched neckline of my dress, to where the hem met my waistline, and then he kissed the soft, exposed skin of my stomach. I arched off the bed.

His hands stroked up my thighs until he reached the edge of my panties, and then the frustrating man paused. Paused! Didn’t he know I needed him to use those hands? I needed his fingers on me. Now. I rolled my hips in a silent plea. “What do you need?” he growled against the skin just above my panty line.