“Like what?” I grab the towel and fasten it back in place. Tightly this time.
“Like…so good!” she says, making me smile. “Will…you look like an underwear model. But without the underwear. Good gravy, I just saw your naked body.”
“Could you maybe stop yelling that, though?”
“Sorry.” Her hand is still firmly clasped to her eyes. “And you have a thigh tattoo!”
“I do.”
“It’s a wolf. You really are Wolf Boy.”
“You had no idea how accurate you were all along. Okay, you can look again.”
She doesn’t move.
“Annie, you can uncover your eyes.”
She breathes in and holds it. “I’ve never been in a room with a naked man before, Will,” she says this quietly, like a confession.
I walk to Annie and slowly pull her hand down from her face. But her eyes are shut. I can’t help but laugh. “Open your eyes. It’s just me.”
“Just me, he says. Like he’s not the most gorgeous person my eyes have ever beheld.” She raises her lashes tentatively—a squint at first—and then fully open.
“Thank you,” I say softly. I’m not sure I’ve ever had anyone compliment me quite like that before. Or maybe it’s that I’ve never had someone like Annie compliment me before. It shakes my already shaken self. “You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever beheld too.”
“Thank you.” She smiles shyly.
“You were right, though.”
“About looking like an underwear model? I know, you have the V that—”
I cover her lips with my fingers. “About me phasing you out.”
“Oh,” she said from the other side of my hand. I lower it. “Because you don’t have feelings for me after all?”
I shake my head. “The complete opposite. My plan was to run as fast as I could away from you.” I smile. “Thanks for chasing after me.”
She blinks. “Always.”
The tension between us grows—crackling and steaming to life. And more than anything right now, I want Annie. All of Annie. All of us.
“You should probably go,” I tell her as my eyes drop to her mouth.
“Probably, yeah,” she says stepping even closer and settling her fingers gently to my bare stomach. My muscles clench and I grit my teeth as her fingers trail lower to the top of my towel. “But I don’t want to.”
“Annie…” My plea is ragged from having to hold back from my own desire. I’m trying so hard to be upstanding here, but she’s making it so damn difficult. “We haven’t figured anything out yet between us, and if you stay…”
“I’m staying,” she says firmly, leaving no room for argument. She knows who she is and what she wants and I sure as hell am not going to stand in the way of it.
I remove her fingers from the top of the towel, and a moment of hurt flashes through her eyes before I take those fingers and raise them to my lips to kiss each one instead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Annie
I suck in a breath as Will’s hands move to wrap around my hips—his face hovering torturously in the crook of my neck and the curve of my shoulder.
He kisses me once and pulls away to look into my eyes. That dangerous rim is overcome by the black center of his eyes—darkening and spreading. His jaws clench and he swallows, taking my hand and raising it between us. He slowly slides his fingers between mine and I don’t think it’s a good thing that I already want to moan from that small contact.
His smile slants. He knows.
“I want you to feel absolutely comfortable. We go only as far as you want—and at whatever pace you want. And if at any point you want to stop, just say it and we will.” He says this while slowly unlatching one overall strap, and then the other. They fall to the floor with a satisfying thunk. The melting grin that takes over his mouth when he realizes I’m in a different pair of banana-print underwear （these bananas wear sunglasses） has my knees turning to jelly. Will holds me up—against him to be exact—and drops his mouth to my ear.
“Tell me what you like,” he whispers, his words almost muffled from how they’re pressing and nibbling against my skin.
His body is so hard and unyielding everywhere, making heat pool in all corners of my body.
“I don’t…I don’t know what I like,” I say, the words barely coming out.
“Yes, you do.” He runs his mouth against my jaw, sending shivers down my spine. He takes our interlaced hands and presses them above my head against the door. He’s making a point: You know you like this. It’s the same as the day we practiced, but different. So different because this time Will’s mouth is kissing my neck. My collarbones. He’s not holding back and I don’t want him to. “You know. Trust yourself and then tell me, Annie. It’s just me and you.”