“Um,” I said, biting my lip. Words were never my strong suit when Stu was near.

He braced one hand against the wall at my shoulder, his thumb still brushing the inside of my wrist. How could I feel that one touch all the way between my thighs? This man had some sort of magic.

“Do you ever think about that kiss at your parents’?” he asked huskily, dipping his head to trace his lips across my jaw. A small, embarrassing noise escaped me that I wasn’t sure how to label.

“Um,” I said again. Seriously, brain, could you come up with something more than single syllable nonsense right now?

“I do,” Stu went on, his tongue dipping out to taste me. My head fell back against the wall, granting him more access. Stu groaned and started kissing my neck in earnest, sucking and biting. His lips felt like heaven, and I was already wet. How quickly things escalated. Stu pressed his hips into me. Shit, he was hard. His mouth travelled across my neck, along my earlobe and to my mouth. When he kissed me it was soft and explorative. I didn’t stop him, didn’t want to. Desire had won this round.

Reaching down, he lifted my thigh and hitched it around his waist. I gasped into his kiss, allowing him to slip his tongue in and taste me. I loved the feel of his soft licks, how his tongue danced with mine.

Stu pulled away, going to kiss my neck again before moving down to my cleavage. He mouthed the top of one breast, then the other, and the moan that came out of me sounded foreign. I didn’t realise I was still capable of such a sound.

“Your tits are gorgeous,” Stu breathed, kissing and licking them. When he gave them a little bite I yelped. His answering chuckle was low, hitting my right in the pit of my stomach. “I spend half my time in class staring at them, the other half I spend wondering what your nipples look like. You drive me insane, Andrea.”

I moaned again and Stu grunted, pinching my hardened nipple through the fabric of my top. “I love that sound,” he said. “You’ve no clue how long it’s been since I’ve heard a woman make that sound.” His voice was practically a growl now, more animal than man. I strained against his erection where it pressed firmly between my thighs. I could tell he was . . . substantial. The thought actually had me blushing.

“Stuart, are you coming to see this painting, or what?” Jamie called from Alfie’s bedroom, his tone full of mischief. Mortification hit me as I wondered if they’d heard us, but then I remembered Alfie had the radio on. I just hoped it drowned out the sound of . . . whatever that just was.

“If we ignore them they’ll leave us alone, right?” Stu asked irritably.

“Unfortunately, it’ll only make them more determined. You should go.”

“I don’t want to,” he grunted, standing back to his full height and brazenly dropping his hand between my legs.

“Stu!” I yelped, stifling a gasp.

“I want to stay and taste this,” he continued, massaging me. I hadn’t been touched like this in such a long time that I was embarrassingly close to orgasm. If he applied any more pressure, I was in danger of coming and he’d barely done a thing.

Stu swore and moved away, turning to face the window for a second as he willed his erection to go down. I busied myself fixing my hair back into place and made an effort to calm my laboured breathing. A minute passed, maybe two, and then Stu moved by me out the door. I didn’t get why he wouldn’t look at me, but I hoped it was because it’d make it harder for him to leave. I closed the door and moved into my room. Flopping down on my bed, I pressed my face into my pillow to muffle a groan. I’d never been so aroused in my life, not even with Mark. That thought was sobering.

Our relationship had always been more friendship based than sexual. We were just seventeen when we first met and became fast friends. Our friendship blossomed into love, rather than lust becoming love. Don’t get me wrong, we had a fantastic sex life, but I never felt that hot itching need beneath my skin that Stu gave me. Again, guilt set in. A part of me thought I shouldn’t be feeling this way. If my love for Mark was as pure and true as I thought, then how could I possibly want Stu? Maybe it was all just lust. Lust could make even the tamest person act out of character, and I was still wrapped up in its madness.

I lay there, my hand resting on my lower belly, where my top had ridden up a little. My nerves were frazzled and wondered if I should allow myself a little relief. What harm could it do? Moving my hand under the waistband of my shorts, I slid my fingers beneath my underwear and touched myself. I was embarrassingly wet.

Stu’s muffled voice sounded from Alfie’s room as they carried out a conversation. I let it wash over me as I stroked my tender flesh and imagined it was his fingers. I had a vision of him coming to me after class, locking the door and kneeling before me. I’d be wearing a skirt and he’d push it up, burying his head between my legs as he went down on me with his skilled tongue.

I moved two fingers inside myself, using my other hand to circle my clit. My hips jutted forward, practically in the air as I strained to come. My movements got faster, harder, until a fresh swell of moisture coated my fingers. I buried my face in my pillow once more as I orgasmed so intensely I wanted to scream. The fantasy in my head combined with Stu’s voice just one room away was a heady combination.

This wasn’t something I normally did. Sure, I got myself off every once in a blue moon, but it was more of a bodily function rather than a necessity. Being turned on by a real live person was certainly new territory for me.

I lay there for long minutes, feeling sated yet wanting more. Wanting him. I knew it was wrong but I just couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t a choice, it just was. Moving off the bed, I opened my wardrobe and grabbed a cotton jumper, pulling it on over my vest. My nipples were still hard beneath my bra, and the feel of the fabric sliding over them both aroused and frustrated me.

After paying a quick visit to the bathroom, I knocked on Alfie’s door and stepped inside. My cousin was hard at work, stabbing the paintbrush into the canvas with passionate abandon. Stu sat at the worktable by the window with Jamie, funnily enough engaged in a game of Go. Jamie was fanatical about this Chinese board game akin to chess. He actually attended Go tournaments from time to time and I always lost whenever I played him.

Glancing at the board I was surprised to find that Stu currently had the upper hand. The objective was to surround as much territory as possible using black and white pebbles. In this particular case, Stu was the black pebbles and Jamie the white.