Moving In

It can't be. I blink before pushing my hair off my face and take a closer look. There's a hunk on my doorstep. Maybe I've fallen asleep and woken up in an alternate reality. Shit, he's gorgeous. His sun-kissed golden skin is flawless. He takes a long, sweeping look at me before he places one muscled arm on his slim hip and poses like a book boyfriend in my doorway.

An ice draft chills me. Crap. I pull the ends of my robe together to prevent another peep show and try to figure out who he is. And I had to flash him. Thank God, I've waxed. My face heats up all over again. I'll bet he loved my little impromptu show. I wish his presence didn't make my insides tingle or dry up my mouth. I've never had a guy look at me appreciatively or light up wildfires in remote places I never knew existed inside me with a single glance. And those eyes...Jesus... His eyes remind me of liquid fire.

My blood hums before the pit of my tummy trembles and spreads through my veins quicker than liquid lava. I'm wet in seconds, and I have to clamp my legs together just in case any telltale juices leak down my legs. Alison's right. I need to have sex before I go totally crazy and start dry humping guys. I don't think this sex only after marriage thing is going to work for me much longer. Heck, I must be the oldest virgin on the planet.

"Where is she?" His voice cuts through my dazed thoughts.

What does he want with me?

A gazillion possibilities race through my head. What if he's a stalker? I've had a few crazies send me creepy messages via my social media accounts. None have had the guts to show up on my doorstep... Besides Mr. Book Boyfriend doesn't look at all crazy. He seems to be as furious as hell, though.

"I don't know any Lace."

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