“Look who’s exaggerating now.”

“Okay, maybe not bruises, but I definitely felt her butt bones, and it was weird. I don’t think you should ever feel another person’s butt bones.”

“Could not agree more. I like a little meat on an ass.”

“Oh?” Her brows rise. “A butt man?”

“Not really. I appreciate everything about a woman’s body.” I glance down at her mouth. “Especially the lips.”

Her tongue peeks out and licks hers, and I have to look away so I don’t conjure up any more dirty mental images.

Clearing my thoughts, I ask, “What about you? Do you have a favorite part on a guy . . . or girl?” I add, just to double-check. You can never be too sure.

She laughs. “My favorite attribute on a guy . . . hmm.” She taps her chin. “I would have to say the penis.”

“What?” I simultaneously laugh and choke on my saliva.

“The penis. You know.” She nods at my crotch. “The man noodle guys carry between their legs.”

“I know what a penis is,” I say, coughing. “I just . . . wow, you just jumped right in there, didn’t you?”

“What? Did you expect me to say the eyes? Because they’re the windows to the soul?” She shakes her head. “No, I know what the good stuff is. It’s all about the penis.” She holds her hand up before I can respond. “And don’t get all judgy on me—you can’t tell me lips are your favorite because they’re delicate tulip petals on a lady’s mouth. You totally like lips for blow jobs.”

“I mean . . .” I chuckle. “That’s a nice benefit from lips, but you know, I enjoy making out too. I like the way a woman’s mouth feels against my skin. I like my chest to be sucked on, kissed. My abs, my hips . . . my cock . . . but yeah, lips are cool.”

“Just had to throw cock in there. I see what you’re doing. Sure, a mouth is great, especially when it’s between a pair of legs.” Christ, this is a side of Luna I never would have expected. I have to wonder what kind of adventures she enjoys. “But a confident penis is key to me.”

“A confident penis? Didn’t know penises could have emotions.”

“Oh, they for sure do. The sad ones are always wilted. The excited ones are always knocking on your door, looking to play . . .”

“Okay.” I chuckle. “What’s a confident penis like, then?”

“A confident penis doesn’t have to be big or girthy. It could be on the smaller side, maybe a grower, maybe a little crooked. Maybe it has so much penis skin that it confuses people.”

“Okay, the ‘too much skin’ has me gagging.”

“You’re gagging? Think of the lady blowing it.” She waves her free hand. “That’s beside the point. A confident penis is one that knows exactly what to do with what it’s been blessed with.”

“You’re only concerned about the penis? What about all the other parts that go into sex, like foreplay?”

“Trust me.” She snags my hand and turns it over on my knee, her turn to do the touching. “Every confident penis I’ve come across has a sex-educated body attached to it.”

Every penis she’s come across? How many has she been with? Not that it really matters, but still, the thought of her being with enough men to have a clear idea of the kind of penis she likes is daunting.

She slowly drags her fingertips over mine. “Did I freak you out?”

“No.” I shake my head. “You just made me wonder if my penis is confident or not.”

Her laugh echoes through my silent apartment. “I’m sure it’s confident.” She yawns and covers her mouth. “I should get back. Double set of interviews tomorrow. Not looking forward to it.”

“Me neither.”

She stands from the couch and stretches her hands over her head. Her shirt clings to her breasts as she moves side to side. From my vantage point, they look just big enough to fill my palm. Just perfect.

“You can keep the cake.”

“Huh?” I ask, blinking up at her.

She smirks, and I wonder if she caught me staring. “The cake—keep it. I can’t possibly have the reminder of my loss sitting on my kitchen counter.”

I stand as well. “Wouldn’t want the great and powerful Rossi to have to swallow her pride, now would we?”

“Never.” She walks over to the entryway and slips her shoes on before slinging her bag over her shoulder and holding her hand out. “Congrats on your win. Well deserved.”

Fuck, she’s adorable.

Sexy adorable.

Tempting adorable.

Everything about her, from her hand in mine to the confident penis talk, has my mind swirling and my need for her growing as I step toward her. As my eyes fall on her lips, she quickly licks them, as if she’s anticipating something more from me than a handshake.

It’s a minor movement, but it gives me just enough courage to cross that line with her.

I close the distance between us and take her hand in mine, pulling her close so her other hand falls to my chest. From behind, I open the door to my apartment and then maneuver her so she’s up against the doorjamb. Her chest rises and falls as she stares up at me, waiting.

“I’m not really into handshakes for congratulations.”

“No?” she asks, her voice quavering slightly. “What are you into?”

I don’t answer; instead, I bring my forefinger and thumb to her chin and tilt it toward me. I bring my mouth down to hers—then I pause, mere millimeters away, making sure this is what she wants and I’m not reading her wrong.

Her eyes search mine, and with a deep breath, she slides her hand up my chest to my jaw, closing the space between us and pressing her lips against mine.

The first touch is soft, timid. Our mouths are slightly open, exploring. Easy and supple, just what I thought our kiss would feel like, but then she moves her hand up to the back of my head, deepening our kiss and sending a spark of excitement all the way to the tips of my toes. She’s making me feel goddamn weak in the knees.

I grip the doorjamb above her head to steady myself and then move my other hand to her hip, holding her in place as I savor the taste of her.

And fuck, does she taste sweet. Like cake and sweet cream and berries, even sweeter than the cake we just ate.

I step in closer, close enough to feel her leg slide between mine but still have a good angle on her mouth. Her free hand moves up my chest, passing over my nipple in just the right way and sending a bolt of lust straight to my cock.

I groan against her mouth.

She moans against mine.

Her grip tightens.

My fingers dig into her skin.

Her mouth opens wide.

My tongue slips in.

And we make out.

And it is amazing. Our tongues dance and collide as we reach for more and more, as if all our pent-up tension and arguments over the past few weeks have been nothing more than intense foreplay—foreplay we didn’t even know was happening until just now.

The passion rolls and builds between us, climbing to a crescendo.

More.

I want so much fucking more.

But then her mouth leaves mine and her forehead falls to my chest. She takes a deep breath.

“Oh God, I kissed you.”

“You did.” I awkwardly chuckle, hoping to fuck she doesn’t regret it. “Is that a bad thing?”

I hold my breath as she slowly looks up at me, her chin now on my chest. “No, just a scary thing.”

“Scary?” I lift her chin up. “How’s it scary?”

“So many reasons. You’re . . . you’re—” She bites her bottom lip and looks away.

“I’m what?”

She sighs and leans back against the doorjamb. “Alec, you’re kind of out of my league.”

Talk about a belly laugh—the fucking chortle that flies out of my mouth comes from the depths of my stomach.

“Luna, you’ve lost your damn mind.”

“I’m serious.” She pokes my stomach and gasps, then lifts the hem of my shirt to reveal my stomach. “Oh my God, this is exactly what I’m talking about.” She pulls my shirt up higher, and I just stand there, enjoying every second of it. “Look at that! A freaking six-pack. I’ve never kissed a guy with a six-pack.”

“Glad I could be your first.” I wink.

She points at my face. “And your charm is entirely too much for me to handle. I hated you a week ago, and look at me now, standing half-in, half-out of your apartment, practically eating your face off. You charmed me. I don’t know how you did it, but you did, and that’s unnerving.”

“Want me to be an ass again? I’m really good at it.”

“And the joking—you’re funny and hot. That combination shouldn’t be allowed in one human.” She holds out one hand. “You’re either funny.” She holds out the other hand. “Or you’re hot.” Then she claps her hands together. “But putting them together . . .” She shakes her head. “Nope, should be illegal.”

“You’re funny and hot.” I grab her hips.

“And the compliments have got to stop, man.” She presses her hands to my chest, as if to keep her distance, but it’s all for show, because there’s no pushing away. “They’re lethal and they’re undoing me.”

“Is that so?” She nods. “Well, if that’s the case, have I told you that I think you have the prettiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen? I just want to get lost in them.”