Jake pulled up to Lyra’s house right at ten in the morning. She was already standing on the porch, wearing a beautiful floral dress in shades of blue and purple that made her eyes look like a brewing thunderstorm. Her black hair fell in loose curls around her face, soft and wild.
The moment she slid into the car, her scent, honey and strawberries, hit him like a brick wall. Blood rushed south, precisely where he didn’t need it. Not today.
Last night, all he’d wanted was to get back to his room and jerk off to the image of Lyra, naked in the moonlit forest. Not touching her when she stood before him, bare and vulnerable, had required a level of restraint he hadn’t known he possessed.
Then she’d told him she was a virgin.
It had nearly undone him.
Jake typically avoided virgins. They te
