Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

“I’m not naked, I’m wearing a towel—”

At that exact moment, said towel drops from my waist, and I am now, in fact, very naked. Naked and wet from my shower and standing fully frontal to Annie. I immediately cup my hands in front of me as Annie’s jaw hits the floor. “Oh my gosh,” she says in a whisper that doesn’t sound like she hates what she sees. Which is not helping the hiding of my groin issue.

“Shit—Annie…would you mind?”

She sucks in a sharp breath and covers her eyes. “Why do you look like that, Will?”

“Like what?” I grab the towel and fasten it back in place. Tightly this time.

“Like…so good!” she says, making me smile. “Will…you look like an underwear model. But without the underwear. Good gravy, I just saw your naked body.”

“Could you maybe stop yelling that, though?”

“Sorry.” Her hand is still firmly clasped to her eyes. “And you have a thigh tattoo!”

“I do.”

“It’s a wolf. You really are Wolf Boy.”

“You had no idea how accurate you were all along. Okay, you can look again.”

She doesn’t move.

“Annie, you can uncover your eyes.”

She breathes in and holds it. “I’ve never been in a room with a naked man before, Will,” she says this quietly, like a confession.

I walk to Annie and slowly pull her hand down from her face. But her eyes are shut. I can’t help but laugh. “Open your eyes. It’s just me.”

“Just me, he says. Like he’s not the most gorgeous person my eyes have ever beheld.” She raises her lashes tentatively—a squint at first—and then fully open.

“Thank you,” I say softly. I’m not sure I’ve ever had anyone compliment me quite like that before. Or maybe it’s that I’ve never had someone like Annie compliment me before. It shakes my already shaken self. “You’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever beheld too.”

“Thank you.” She smiles shyly.

“You were right, though.”

“About looking like an underwear model? I know, you have the V that—”

I cover her lips with my fingers. “About me phasing you out.”

“Oh,” she said from the other side of my hand. I lower it. “Because you don’t have feelings for me after all?”

I shake my head. “The complete opposite. My plan was to run as fast as I could away from you.” I smile. “Thanks for chasing after me.”

She blinks. “Always.”

The tension between us grows—crackling and steaming to life. And more than anything right now, I want Annie. All of Annie. All of us.

“You should probably go,” I tell her as my eyes drop to her mouth.

“Probably, yeah,” she says stepping even closer and settling her fingers gently to my bare stomach. My muscles clench and I grit my teeth as her fingers trail lower to the top of my towel. “But I don’t want to.”

“Annie…” My plea is ragged from having to hold back from my own desire. I’m trying so hard to be upstanding here, but she’s making it so damn difficult. “We haven’t figured anything out yet between us, and if you stay…”

“I’m staying,” she says firmly, leaving no room for argument. She knows who she is and what she wants and I sure as hell am not going to stand in the way of it.

I remove her fingers from the top of the towel, and a moment of hurt flashes through her eyes before I take those fingers and raise them to my lips to kiss each one instead.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX


    Annie


I suck in a breath as Will’s hands move to wrap around my hips—his face hovering torturously in the crook of my neck and the curve of my shoulder.

He kisses me once and pulls away to look into my eyes. That dangerous rim is overcome by the black center of his eyes—darkening and spreading. His jaws clench and he swallows, taking my hand and raising it between us. He slowly slides his fingers between mine and I don’t think it’s a good thing that I already want to moan from that small contact.

His smile slants. He knows.

“I want you to feel absolutely comfortable. We go only as far as you want—and at whatever pace you want. And if at any point you want to stop, just say it and we will.” He says this while slowly unlatching one overall strap, and then the other. They fall to the floor with a satisfying thunk. The melting grin that takes over his mouth when he realizes I’m in a different pair of banana-print underwear (these bananas wear sunglasses) has my knees turning to jelly. Will holds me up—against him to be exact—and drops his mouth to my ear.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispers, his words almost muffled from how they’re pressing and nibbling against my skin.

His body is so hard and unyielding everywhere, making heat pool in all corners of my body.

“I don’t…I don’t know what I like,” I say, the words barely coming out.

“Yes, you do.” He runs his mouth against my jaw, sending shivers down my spine. He takes our interlaced hands and presses them above my head against the door. He’s making a point: You know you like this. It’s the same as the day we practiced, but different. So different because this time Will’s mouth is kissing my neck. My collarbones. He’s not holding back and I don’t want him to. “You know. Trust yourself and then tell me, Annie. It’s just me and you.”

And he’s right. I do know what I like and want, and somehow, having him trust and believe that about myself, sends a surge of confidence as well as a fresh wave of desire through me.

I decide to be brave.

I lower my hands to loop around Will’s neck. He adjusts to look into my eyes—trying to read me as always. Trying to get one step ahead. Before he can, I rise up and firmly press my mouth to his. He sucks in a sharp breath and his hands grip me tighter.

I’ve been so measured and controlled and careful my whole life, and I can’t bring myself to be that way tonight. I want to be lost for a while.

I hop up and Will catches me as I wrap my legs around his waist. His mouth explores mine in deep, hot caresses and before I know it, my back is landing gently on the mattress. I scoot up to the pillow, noticing that it smells like Will, a crisp, clean scent. He climbs over me and presses his mouth down onto mine, coaxing and so sensual I’m drunk and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he says reverently after his hands slide up my hips and ribs and peel my shirt off. He kisses my stomach, and then runs his tongue around the rim of my belly button. “And you’re so sweet.” But this time, when he says sweet, I don’t cringe. My stomach swoops because only Will can call me sweet in a way that does not feel sweet.

It doesn’t take long for us to lose every stitch of clothing. And when we are skin to skin, I should feel scared. Terrified. Instead, the tops of Will’s bare shoulders are backlit by the moon, and I study the shape of his muscles as they shift and flex. I’m relaxed and safe and joyful—and completely in awe of the way his body moves with confident ease. How his hands glide over me with tender care and expert precision. And for the rest of the night, we get lost in the sheets and Will teaches me things I never knew I needed to learn.

Time moves too quickly, and I know for the rest of my life I’ll remember this night with Will in this room. I’ll remember the flashes of his dark eyes, and his hands pressed into the mattress beside my face. His forearms flexing and our bodies together. I’ll remember the taste of sweat and the smell of body wash and the warmth of our shower somewhere around two a.m.

And at some point, when the sun is starting to kiss the horizon just as tenderly as Will is kissing my shoulder, when we’re both exhausted and in desperate need of sleep, Will pulls me back against his chest, wrapping his arm tightly around my body to just hold me, and I don’t think anything could be more perfect.





CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN


    Will


I hold Annie’s hand as we walk through town toward the diner the next morning. It took a monumental effort for me to get out of bed and come with her to breakfast rather than asking her to take up residence with me in that room and never leave. She…Annie…Was…And I…We…

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