She threw herself down in the middle of it, trench coat and all, panting and declaring, “You lose, Oliver.” Three flights of stairs weren’t what they were in college, he determined, his hands on his knees as he sucked in air. And Holly was as slick and sly as an eel. This was a good thing to know about her. “So what must I forfeit?” he asked, an all-American good sport when he wanted to be—and when sex was imminent. “All your clothes.” He came slowly upright. His startled gaze met the bold challenge in her eyes. “You want our first time to be like this?” he asked, just this side of stunned. Her body was out of control with excitement. “I want every time to be like this,” she said. Her smirk was provoking. And there was something keenly uncomfortable in the idea of standing naked before a woman he was attracted to, who still had all her clothes on. He amended his notes on her strange perception of romance—this was beyond anything he had imagined. But then again, so was she.
