“My mom is coming to the show . . . and I invited her.”

Luna’s eyes focus on me for the first time since she walked into my apartment. “You invited your mom to the taping? You?”

I nod. “Tonight. I called her.”

She softens, her shoulders relaxing as she carefully takes my hand in hers. “You called her? Alec, that’s . . . wow, that’s amazing.”

“You, uh . . . you inspired me to reach out, to be better.”

“Alec . . .”

“I’m serious.” I grip the back of my neck as I keep my eyes trained on hers. “I see what you have with Cohen, how strong your bond is. And the stories you told about your childhood, about your parents . . . I know I can never have what you have, but I can at least try to repair things with my family. God forbid something ever happens to us—I don’t want to look back and regret never even trying.”

“That’s . . . that’s amazing, Alec.”

“It’s a step in the right direction.”

“It is.” She smiles, which causes me to lean into her and squeeze her hand.

“Why are you here, Luna?”

She traces her finger along my palm. “I don’t want to put a pause on things.” She exhales sharply. “I want to see where this goes.”

“Yeah?” I’m half-terrified that if I get too excited she might change her mind. Her body is humming with energy—excitement or anxiety, I can’t tell, but I can feel it, see it in her eyes.

She nods. “Yeah. I talked to Farrah about it, and she pointed out that a few weeks isn’t that big of a deal. And I agree. I can keep this between us for now. I want you to have a real relationship with Thad, but it’s going to take some big steps to get there, so I understand why you don’t want to tell him about us. And frankly”—she smiles wickedly—“that kiss last night left me more frustrated than anything.”

I catch my breath at her little smile.

“Wanted more, huh?”

“So much more.”

“Then get over here,” I say, tugging on her hand and guiding her onto my lap so she’s straddling me, her thin leggings rubbing against my flimsy shorts.

She sits directly on my cock and wiggles, pulling a chuckle from the back of her throat. Her lips land on mine as my hands find her hips. Her lips part and her kisses settle into a deep, sensual rhythm. She’s addicting, how her mouth moves along mine, making me dizzy with lust.

I need more.

My body hums for more.

My hands grip her tightly, begging for more.

Her tongue swipes against my lips and then dives into my open mouth, teasing me, tempting me. Her hips move along mine, and my cock quickly turns rock solid within a few glides. When she feels me harden beneath her, she smiles against my mouth and pulls away, but I pull her close and trail wet, hot kisses along her jaw, down her neck and then back up, my beard scraping along her skin, my tongue pulling sweet, tiny moans from the back of her throat.

While my mouth works to her earlobe, I glide my hands under her shirt and up her back until I reach the clasp of her bra. I want to undo it, free her, feel her, but then think better of it and slide my hands back down her ribs. Too much, too soon. Don’t scare her away.

To my surprise, she protests with a groan and brings her hands to her back, unhooking her bra herself. She does some magic to slip it out of her shirt and then brings her hands to my chest again, gripping my shirt. Holy shit. Completely unexpected, but there’s no way in hell I’m turning her away.

“Touch me,” she says as I nibble the spot right below her earlobe.

“I am.”

“Under my shirt.”

“I am,” I repeat, unable to control my smile.

She grinds her hips into mine. “Touch my tits, Alec.”

Well . . . damn.

Chuckling, I reach one of my hands to the front of her torso but don’t quite touch her, not yet. Instead, I keep my hand just below her breast and then press my lips against her mouth before plunging my tongue inside. She groans and moves her hips against mine continuously, up and down, up and down, rubbing my cock in such a way that my spine tingles, my limbs start to go numb. The friction between us is fucking magic, turning me on and overtaking my body. There is no doubt in my mind she could get me off like this in minutes.

“Shit, Luna,” I say, pulling away for a breath. “You’re going to make me come in my shorts if you keep doing that.”

“Good.” She reaches for the hem of my shirt and pulls it up and over my head. She tosses it to the side and leans back to take in my bare chest. “Jesus,” she mutters, her hands gliding down my torso, down to my abs, and playing dangerously with each divot. “Thank the good lord for abs and pecs.”

I chuckle, and that only makes her sigh more.

“When you laugh, your abs contract and your pecs shake. It’s really hot.”

“Stare all you want, Luna Moon,” I say, bringing my spare hand behind her neck so I can pull her lips closer. When our mouths connect, something unhinges inside of her because her hands float up my chest to my pecs, where she grips them hard, and she moves her lips slowly, methodically. The combination spreads warmth through my body as sweat gathers along my back.

My hand itches to move up, to touch her, to ravish her body, but I also know I don’t want to take this all the way. Not yet. But hell, getting off as she dry humps my lap seems like a good second option.

Savoring her, I move my mouth back down her jaw to her neck as I run my hand up and over her breast and cup it, my thumb rubbing over the nub of her hardened nipple.

“Oh God,” she moans, her head falling back, her hips grinding even harder. “Alec . . . I could come just like this . . . God, I could come so hard.”

“So do it,” I say, licking the column of her neck. “Get off. Make us both come.”

She swivels her hips, and I bite down on her neck. She yelps, startled. “Shit,” I breathe out. “Sorry.”

“Do it again,” she whispers as she grinds her hips, over and over again until I feel dizzy, unable to comprehend the thick pulse that’s pounding through my veins, breaking down my walls, and turning me into a puddle of need.

I bite down on her neck again and then kiss, bite, and kiss. I repeat the process until her head is falling to the side and her hand grips the back of my thighs.

In a haze, I scan her body, one hand still up her shirt, and take in her pert nipple pressing against the fabric of her shirt, her neck, her delicate collarbone. I want to run my tongue along it, back up her neck, to her mouth. Her sweet fucking mouth.

I need control. I remove my hand, grip her lower back, and then scoot off the couch, guiding us both to the floor. I lay her down carefully, and her legs fall to either side of my hips. I help her spread them wider and then grip her hands and bring them above her head, pinning them with one of my hands and lowering my mouth to hers. We devour each other, hungry and desperate for more. With each pass of her tongue over mine and every nibble of her teeth on my bottom lip, I crave more. I lower my hips and position my covered cock over her before driving my hips down, across her clit.

“Alec, yes!” she calls out.

I pull back just enough to catch a glimpse of the lust smoldering in her eyes, which turn heady as I stroke up her center.

A breath escapes her.

Her legs fall open even wider.

Her hands tighten on mine.

Greedy for more, I glide my hand up her shirt again and find her breast. I keep her covered and feel instead, stroking my thumb over her peaked nipple. From what I can feel, it’s small, tight, and so sexy. With every pass, my balls tighten farther and farther.

“Hell,” I grit out, feeling an orgasm stirring.

“Just like that, right there,” she says, breathless, her lips finding mine again, the electricity of her touch lighting up every nerve in my body.

I grind down on her.

She grinds up.

I groan against her mouth.

She moans along my tongue.

My hand tightens around hers.

Her fingers dig into the back of my hand.

I pull my mouth away.

Her forehead presses into my shoulder.

My hips fly.

Her moan radiates through my body.

“Yes, oh fuck . . . yes, Alec!” she yells, her body tensing and then falling apart beneath me, right there on my living room rug.

“Mother . . . fucker,” I mumble as my spine straightens, my balls tighten, and my cock surges with my orgasm, spilling into my shorts. My legs shake with every spurt. Breathless and shaking, I ride out both of our orgasms until there’s nothing left. “Fuck,” I say, depleted as I let go of her hands and press my weight into my forearms, still straddling her.

I touch my forehead to hers as we both try to catch our breath. What we just did reignited a passion inside me I hadn’t realized was dead. A dam has broken within me, and there’s only one person to thank for it.

“Luna Moon,” I say with a slight shake of my head. “What are you doing to me, girl?”