“Good. You want some popcorn?” He sits up.

I frown. “Do you?”

He shrugs. “Not really. But if you want some, I’ll make it.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s late. I think I’ll pass.”

He sits up with his back against the cushions and pulls me into him. The skin of his thigh is warm against mine. I’m so glad I shaved today. The dark wiry hair of his legs tickles the delicate skin of mine. It makes me think of him and me in bed together, touching everywhere, no clothing getting in the way . . .

He squeezes me tight and kisses me on the top of the head as the show comes back on. “Wait until you see this part,” he says, his mood lightening as he switches into television viewer mode.

So much for a raging hard-on. I sneak glances at it as it shrinks down to regular size, which, for the record, is still big enough to tell me that he must have a hard time finding pants that will fit properly. Wowza.

The longer I sit with him as he gently strokes my arm with his fingers, touches my hair, pulls me into him, the more comfortable I feel. And with this comfort comes a frustration. We are so close to getting sexual, but we’re just not doing it. He’s being a total gentleman, and it’s driving me crazy.

Something needs to be done about this. Something needs to be done about this now.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

I pick up the remote and turn the television off.

Ozzie’s hand freezes in the middle of stroking my arm.

I wait for him to make the next move.

“You turned off the show.”

“Yes, I did.” My heart is going wild.

“Does that mean you’re ready for bed?”

Easy, May, easy. You can do this. “Not exactly.”

He lets out a long breath of air. For a second, I think he’s angry. But then he speaks.

“Stand up, May.”

“Stand up?” I’m confused.

“Yes, stand up. Here in front of me.” He leans back harder into the cushions and moves his butt forward a little, sinking down into the couch.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I stand anyway.

“Face me.”

I turn around.

He takes my left hand and pulls me to the left until I’m standing between his knees.

“Take your shirt off.”

I swallow with difficulty. We’re totally going to do this. We’re going to have sex right now. In this room. On this couch. Holy shit.

I reach up with trembling fingers and undo my remaining buttons. It’s all I have strength for, though. When I’m done, my hands fall to my sides. I’m chickening out and I’m not even naked yet. I hate myself! My head drops to my chest.

Ozzie sits up and pulls on my sleeve, making my blouse fall over to one side. “Take this off,” he says in a calm voice. The fact that he’s not sounding angry or scary is freaking me out. It’s like he’s my boss again, doing some sort of training exercise. “Take off your shirt, May. Don’t make me say it again.”

A shiver moves down my spine and right into the spot between my legs, ka-zow!

I do what he says because I’m not an idiot.

“Good girl,” he says, his voice low, almost dangerous sounding.

I’m there in my matching bra and panties, a set I splurged for last year when the wedding bookings were plenty. I’m so glad I put them on today. Did I know I was going to be stripping in front of Ozzie? Maybe. I guess I’d hoped so. God, I’m so easy.

“Take off your bra.” He’s leaning back on the couch again, his eyes running up and down my body. The television is back on again, but the sound is off. Light flickers behind me. I hope it’s making me look mysterious and sexy and not fat.

I lower the straps from my shoulders first, thrilled to see his bulge move in his boxers. He reaches over and squeezes it as his pelvis moves up. That sends a shock running through my body. I never thought a guy touching himself would turn me on, but I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong-wrong-wrong.

As my straps hang loose over my upper arms, I reach behind me and undo the clasp. Crossing my arms across my chest, I hold the loose material against me. Revealing my upper body in its utter nakedness while he sits there below me is too much. It’s going to take a lot more confidence than I have right now to pull that off.

“Let it go, May.”

“I can’t.” I’m trembling again. I’m not sure if it’s fear or anticipation in charge.

“You can and you will.”

I shake my head no but can’t speak. Fear and nerves have my tongue, and they’re not letting it go.

He leans forward and reaches up to put his hands on my thighs. His fingers are hot on my air-cooled skin. Slowly they climb over my hips and waist to my elbows.

“Give yourself to me, May.”

Tears make my eyes bright. “I can’t.”

“Of course you can.” He takes the edge of my bra and gently tugs it out from under my arms.

I let it go because the bigger part of me wants to do this, wants to be naked with him. The smaller part of me that’s self-conscious and finds me lacking wants to run for the hills and never look back. A fall from this height is going to be really, really painful, and we haven’t even had sex yet.

Now the only thing covering my chest is my arms. Why do they have to be so skinny? My breasts are falling out everywhere.

He leans back onto the couch again, bringing the bra up to his face. He closes his eyes as he inhales. “Smells like your skin.” His eyes open and he smiles.

I almost laugh. “Creepy.”

He tosses the bra aside and sits up again. His hands start at my calves and slowly draw upward, both tickling me and setting me aflame. Goose bumps rise up everywhere.

“I love the way you smell, the way your skin feels, the way you stare at me with that wrinkle between your eyes.”

“Wrinkle? What wrinkle?”

I’m too distracted to realize what he’s up to until his fingers are at the edge of my panties, near the top.

I grab my chest with one arm, while the other hand goes over my panties. “What are you doing?”

“You want to keep them on?” He shrugs. “Okay by me.” He leans in and puts his face on the front of me, over my panties.

Holy crap, what’s he . . .? Oh my god, that’s . . . niiiice.

My hand is in the way, but he moves his face around until he can get his mouth between my fingers. His hot breath comes through the light, silky material, heating up my most sensitive area. I think that’s about as sexy as this thing can get, and then he starts moving his mouth around and I realize I was waaaay wrong about that.

I moan when the feelings start to get out of control. How is he doing this to me? He’s moaning too, and moving his mouth and breathing hot air everywhere, and it’s making me feel like I’m going to have an orgasm with my panties still on. What the hell? I don’t even have orgasms. My orgasm maker is broken or something. I figured that out a long time ago, and it’s been confirmed by every boyfriend I’ve ever had. I’m just one of those women who never gets them.

The hand of mine that was trying to guard against his invasion moves back up to my chest. Pretending I don’t want him doing what he’s doing is ridiculous. I’m not fooling anyone.

He takes advantage of my surrender by pulling my panties down and burying his face in my mound. I was totally not expecting that.

I gasp and drop my hands, putting them first on his head and then his shoulders. I need to hold on to something so I don’t collapse. His tongue is sliding into my hot, wet folds and I cry out with delight. Maybe I should be self-conscious about being so free and open to him, but I’m too turned on to worry about anything right now.

I feel him moving around as he continues to lick me, but I don’t realize until his hands are on my waist and he’s pulling away that he was taking off his boxers and putting on protection.