He curls a single finger under the waistband of my panties, one on either side as I stand there motionless, transfixed with him, with the hard line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, his gently slanted eyes, the dark blue color that reminds me of an endless galaxy.

“You put your panties on over your garter belt and thigh-highs,” he remarks, his smile turning several levels away from cute and charming, and much closer to lascivious. “Only a naughty girl knows you put the panties on top, so you can take them off without removing the rest.”

“I read it in a book somewhere!” I howl, but it's too late: Ranger is pushing them down my hips, dropping to his knees, so he can help me pull them over my shoes. After he got naked, he slipped his feet back into his boots, so at least we're both still wearing footwear.

He stands up and grabs the apron, tossing it over my head, and then turning me around to tie the back.

We've come full circle, haven't we? I think, remembering when I first stumbled onto his naked baking, how we almost had sex at his mother's house, how I couldn't forget this moment for the rest of my life, even if I tried.

“Let's make some dark chocolate avocado pudding,” he says finally, and I swear to god, I've never heard a word come out as sexually as pudding. Pudding. Holy shit. My hands twist together in front of my apron as Ranger moves back over to the counter, removing the lemon meringue pie from the oven and then grabbing a knife to cut the avocado in half. “Maybe some brownies, too.” He nods his chin in the direction of his discarded pants. “Check the back pocket—I think I have some weed in there. Wouldn’t say no to ‘special brownies’ right about now.”

I do as he asked, bending down to dig through the jeans when I realize that the room's gone completely silent.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see him staring at me with wide eyes and realize what I must look like.

Naked, wearing shiny shoes and thigh-highs, a frilly apron aaaaand … nothing else. The view must be, um, intense.

I barely have time to stand up and turn around before Ranger's there, pushing me up against the first island, his forehead to mine, his breathing harsh and ragged.

“Goddamn it, Chuck,” he murmurs, rubbing his face against mine. With a shudder, I close my eyes and grab onto the front of his apron. I'm not the only one trembling, apparently, and I can't get enough of this, of him.

“Oh, Ranger,” I whisper back, sliding my palms down the corded muscles in his arms. He responds with a shiver, putting his hands under my thighs and lifting me up to sit on the counter. Because of his height, and the height of the countertop, he's now settled comfortably between my thighs. I can feel the hardness beneath his apron, the same way I did that day in his mother's kitchen. “The twins and Church,” I start, swallowing hard as Ranger grinds against that fervent heat between my legs, “they were afraid for you to find out my secret; they were afraid you'd turn me into your sister.”

The laugh that escapes his throat is best described as bawdy, this dark sound that has my nipples tightening to hard points.

“Does it seem like I consider you a sister? Because if so, then I've either fucked up royally, or you've seen some kinky shit in your day.”

I snort a laugh, but the sound is cut off when Ranger crushes his mouth to mine.

Holy mother of unicorns, I think, throwing my arms around his neck.

Ranger's mouth is a fervid, wild mess of heat and blind need, but underneath it all, in the careful way he touches me, in the frantic beat of his heart as he presses his body to mine … there's affection and tenderness there.

He likes me! My brain squeals as we gasp, coming up for air and looking right at each other.

“What did you say?” he asks me, as I blink stupidly back at him.

“Did I say that out loud?” I choke, flushing from head to toe. “I did, didn't I? Oh my god, I'm so freaking embarrassed. Why am I always blurting out random shit?”

Ranger gives me a feral grin, capturing my lips with his, the faintest hint of lemons and sugar on his tongue.

“He does like you,” Ranger growls out, sucking my lower lip between his teeth. “A lot. He's just hoping you like him back.”

“I love him,” I blurt, and then we both pause.

Swear to the God of Dark-Holes-For-Embarrassed-People-to-Crawl-Into, I better not have just messed this all up. But instead of pulling away from me or acting like I’ve just committed the worst cardinal sin known to man, Ranger takes it in stride.

“I love you, too, Chuck,” he replies easily, the edge of his mouth turning up in a genuine smile. “I have since the moment you asked for that hug at the Valentine's Day dance.” Ranger cups the back of my head, kissing me long and deep, his tongue swirling against mine, and then he pulls back to put his forehead to mine. “Now. Get off this counter and turn around. I'm slapping that ass, and fucking you in that apron—just like I promised. We'll finish our baking afterward.”

My heart is beating so fast, my body flooded with happy hormones, pushing away the fear of the … whatever that stupid cult is calling themselves. Of Jenica's last sad, soft memories. I've got her brother now, and I'm not going to let him get hurt again.

Ranger pulls me off the counter and spins me around, putting his hands on my hips and then kissing his way down the side of my neck, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. When he lets go of me briefly to retrieve the bag of flour from the island, my jaw drops open.

“I thought you were kidding,” I whisper as he dumps some out on the counter and then powders his hands in white.

“I want to see all the places I've touched you.” His voice is dark with a possessiveness that I'm not sure I'm going to like … until he touches me again, putting white handprints on my hips. When he pulls back and cracks me across the ass with his palm, my breath hitches, and my fingers curl against the surface of the stone countertop. “Jesus, I've been wanting to do that for an entire year. You're such a brat, Chuck. You needed a good spanking.”

“Hey, I resent—” I start, but then he spanks me again, and I shiver, goose bumps breaking out across my skin. We're on campus, in a classroom, naked. That thought doesn't deter me from my course of action though. No way, no how. It only makes me want it more.

My skin tingles as Ranger runs a fingertip over the sweetly sore spot, sliding his palms up my body to cup my breasts through the front of the apron. He fondles them with a firm but gentle grip, teasing the nipples through the fabric.

Another crack on my ass surprises me, but I like it, shocking my own preconceived inhibitions.

Ranger pauses briefly to slip the condom on as I close my eyes, trying to control the wild, jittery feeling in my stomach. When he slips one palm around to lie flat against my belly, and whispers in my ear, I groan.

“Are you ready for this, Charlotte?” he asks, and the sound of my real name on his lips undoes everything inside of me. I've barely got the strength to nod, a moan falling from my lips as Ranger presses the hard tip of his cock to my opening. There's a brief moment there where he stills, and the only sound in the room is the synchronous rhythm of our breathing.

Ranger slides himself slowly inside of me, groaning under his breath as he fills me up with his body. “Holy fuck.”