Page 53 of The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood)

Whatever face I was making, it caused the lust in his eyes to dissipate. He blinked, and a new thought developed. “You want me to turn off the lights?”

Relief washed through me. I didn’t know why, but it felt more private that way.

“Sure,” I eked out.

He stepped forward and planted a searing kiss on my lips, and the connection to him was a drug that settled my nerves. My heart didn’t beat quite as erratically.

“My bed’s nice.” His smile was easy. “You should give it a try.”

When he left me and strolled toward the switch, I turned to face the bed and swallowed a breath. My unsteady legs carried me there, and as soon as I crawled onto the mattress, there was a soft snap, and the room plunged into near darkness.

I sat in the center of the bed and kept my gaze fixed on Preston. I’d expected him to come to me, but he didn’t. He crossed the room back to the dresser. Was he picking up his drink?

No. He opened the top drawer and pulled something out. It clicked, and a blue-yellow flame leapt to life at the end of the lighter. It didn’t take him long to light the three white pillar candles that rested on a gold charging plate, but I held my breath the entire time.

The flickering light cast a warm glow that wasn’t just sexy . . . it was romantic.

But all thought ceased when he turned. He took in the sight of me on his bed and his expression changed to one of absolute hunger.

God, it sucked all the air from the room.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, as he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and stretched it up over his head. As soon as he had it off, he balled the shirt in his hands and tossed it aside, revealing the perfect landscape of his chest. Even in the low light, I could see he was toned and tanned, and my gaze traced over every delicious inch of bare skin.

But he wasn’t done.

His fingers worked the button and zipper of his shorts, and the fabric slid down his legs, exposing his gray underwear with a white waistband. There was a brand name I couldn’t read in small print scrawled across it, and the second his shorts hit the ground, he moved to step out of them.

I wasn’t prepared for the way he stalked toward me, wearing nothing but a pair of underwear that barely concealed anything. It was better than my fantasies and yet it made my anxiety spike.

Because this was happening and real, which meant it might not be perfect.

Oh, no. What if I was terrible? He might decide one time was enough, and I’d never get this again.

He cocked his head as he reached the end of his bed. “You’re looking at me like you’re dying.”

My voice was feeble. “I’m nervous.”

He exhaled a deep breath. “Don’t be. It’s going to be fun.”

The bed jostled as he sank a knee on the mattress and climbed on, crawling on his hands and knees until he was lying on his side beside me. Then he reached over and trailed his fingertips down the center of my chest. His touch was just a whisper, and goosebumps lifted on my arms in response.

The way his fingers slowly glided across my skin was sensual, and my eyes hooded as he carved a path down past my bra and onto my bare stomach. I didn’t know how to deal with this gentle, tender version of him. It was too much, and he made it impossible not to fall into my feelings for him.

I reminded myself again that it wasn’t allowed, and like all the other times, it didn’t do any good. It’d been foolish to think we could be friends with benefits and that I wouldn’t want more, especially when I’d already wanted more for years.

As his fingertip drew circles on my trembling stomach, he leaned over and pressed his mouth to mine. Maybe his intent was to be sweet, to keep us on a slow and steady track, but once again, he’d underestimated the power of our kiss. I slid closer, matching his intensity, which made him escalate. Like me, he was competitive, and he fought to stay on top of the kiss.

To stay in command.

Except there was no way to control what was happening between us.

The tenderness in him was crushed under a powerful need, and he shifted on the bed, moving so he was over me and my legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss shifted too.

It grew hotter. And dirtier.

I took in air in shallow bursts as his seductive mouth moved down the side of my neck and on to the edge of my bra. His hands slipped around me and beneath my back, urging me to arch so there was room between me and the mattress.

It was kind of nice when he struggled to undo the hooks at the back of my bra. It had to be awkward not being able to see what he was doing, plus there wasn’t a lot of space to work with.

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