It was a balm, holding Eric and being held back. All the tension coiled up in Amber seemed to smooth away, like washing dirt from a surface. It didn't matter that her brother was a prat or that her mom never would entirely approve of her: Amber only cared about the tenderness of Eric's kiss, how warm and good and desired his embrace made her feel. She opened up to him, deepening their kiss and molding herself to him as much as possible.

But it wasn't close enough. His suit, cool and silky, was an unforgivable barrier. Her own clothes were annoying, her buttons digging into her breasts and her shirt keeping her from truly feeling his fingertips as he touched her back. Even replying to Eric's compliment with words was too great a waste when she could tell him through kiss rather than words that he was amazing. The fullness of his tongue in her mouth, his scent so immediate and strong—it made her lightheaded. He always did.

Still tasting him, Amber pushed him towards the bed, careful to trace a route that would avoid all the waylaid bags. He'd been pressing just as hard into her, kissing just as desperately. She didn't know why he was in the mood, if her family had driven him just as crazy as her or if it was all these days they'd gone without. Whatever his reasons, Amber felt she had all the permission needed to shove him on to the mattress. Landing on him with a barely suppressed gasp, Amber locked her eyes on his for a moment. "I hope you can be quiet," she whispered as her hands flew to his buttons, undoing them. She didn’t think about paper-thin walls or what anyone downstairs would say, so focused Amber was on relieving her desire.