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The coward part of me wants to say the safe word right now, to just take the easy route. So we can stay friends forever and nothing will change.

But I’m intrigued by his offer of a kiss, too. “Have you ever kissed before? On the mouth?”

“I have not.”

“What if you don’t like it? A lot of aliens don’t like?—”

He shakes his head. “You’re overthinking, Ruthie. The question is not ‘will I like it.’ The question is ‘Do you want a kiss on your hand or your mouth?’”

“Mouth,” I say impulsively. Before I have a chance to think any longer.

Part of me expects him to be hesitant. Actually, all of me expects him to be hesitant. It’s his first kiss, after all. I’m not prepared for Kazex putting both hands on my cheeks and pulling me forward, pressing our mouths together with forceful enthusiasm. He’s obviously been watching Ruth and her husband, or he knows someone that kisses, because holy shit, this guy is a natural. His mouth opens against mine, his tongue brushing into my mouth, and then we’re locked together in the most intense, toe-curling kiss that tells me just how much Kazex wants me, and just how badly.

I’ve never been kissed like I’m being devoured. I have distant memories of other kisses from “before,” memories that aren’t truly mine. This kiss blows them all away. I don’t want him to ever let me up, even when we gasp for air before locking lips again. His mouth is hard against mine, his lips surprisingly soft, and his jaw is smooth and stubble-free. He’s warm and delicious and his tongue plays against mine in the most perfect way.

I want to cry when he pulls away from me, pressing his forehead to mine and panting.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“Do you need to noodle?” he asks, just as out of breath as I am.

I shake my head, loving the hands that continue to cup my face, as if I’m the most cherished thing in the world and he can’t stop touching me. Like if he lets me go, he’ll lose me forever, and so he refuses to let me go. I love that. I love that so much. “I’m good. I like it when you’re in control. I don’t like being in charge.”

As the words leave my mouth, I realize just how true they are.

I don’t like being in control. I like it when someone else makes the decisions. Ruth and Ruth-Ann are both the type that need to be in control of a situation, but not me. Maybe that’s not modern or feminist, but I like having someone else to rely on. I like trusting another and knowing that they’re looking out for me. And I absolutely trust Kazex. I’ve felt the most comfortable in the moment when he was in control, because I knew he had me. He wouldn’t let me come to harm.

It’s a wild realization. I’m more different than my sisters than I thought, because there’s nothing that I want more than for Kazex to take charge and show me just how he feels.

His thumbs stroke my cheeks and he studies my gaze. “Then you don’t mind if I push? If I tell you I’m going to kiss you?”

“I like it,” I confess softly.

Kazex growls, his eyes closing. “Kef, Ruthie. What you do to me.”

“Tell me.” I’m practically squirming with excitement. I want to know.

“I didn’t want to just ask you for kisses tonight,” he says. “I wanted to push you for more.”

I’m utterly titillated. “What kind of more?”

“Heads, I lick your cunt, and tails, you can watch me jerk off.” He blurts the words out so quickly that they practically tumble against each other. I can tell he’s been thinking about that a lot, and I can also tell by the way he tenses and draws back that he expects it to be too much for me.

But that hot, needy, yearning sensation is curling in my belly. “We can flip for that.”

He groans again. “Ruthie.”

“But you have to take me to our room first,” I tell him. If he’s going to get bossy, I’m going to chime in, too. “And I want two—no, three—more kisses.”

Kaz swings my legs off of his lap. He bounds to his feet and takes my hand, pulling me up against him. My padded, too-sensitive nipple brushes up against his tunic and I gasp, my eyes going wide.

He immediately stills. “Oh, kef, Ruthie. Are you hurt?”

“That didn’t hurt,” I whisper. How do I politely say it felt like his fingers were rubbing my nipple? Just at that small brush of clothing?

The look in his eyes grows hungry. “Oh?”

I nod.

His hand goes to my chin and he strokes his thumb along my jaw. “I’m going to kiss you again, then. Heads, it’s on your mouth. Tails, it’s on your cheek.”

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