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I huff, eyes on his chin, while I blurt, “You have a lot more experience with sex.”
He takes my face in his hands. “Look at me.”
My gaze lifts.
“One, we have wicked chemistry, the kind that’s pretty fucking impossible to ignore. Two, you ask for what you need from me, and I listen, and three, I know how to read you, Aurora. Frankly, I pay far more attention to you than I should. Whatever you haven’t been getting out of sex in the past is not because there’s something wrong with you. Do you understand?”
I nod. My entire body hums with pent-up sexual tension. We’re already three knuckles deep into this conversation. Might as well lay it all out for him. “It’s not your experience or your ability to make me feel good that I’m worried about. It’s my ability to please you.”
“I came in my jogging pants from a dry fuck,” he says dryly.
“But that was all friction, and you wouldn’t let me touch you after the fingerbang.” I want to stuff my words back in my mouth and swallow them.
His jaw clenches, and the hand on my hip flexes. “I wouldn’t let you touch me after the—” He clears his throat. “—fingerbang because I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Again.”
I blink at him, and he blinks back at me. It takes me a few seconds to process his admission. “You didn’t want me to touch you because you didn’t think you could…stay in control?”
“That’s a nice way of putting it.”
“Oh.” Well, that’s one hell of an ego boost.
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t make me regret being honest.”
I finger the end of his tie. Which is close to his belt buckle. “I’ll try not to.”
“You’re a real problem, you know that?”
I look up at him through my lashes. “So you keep telling me.”
“Fuck, Aurora. Why do you have to be so damn tempting all the time?” He spears his hands in my hair and claims my mouth in a searing kiss. It makes my knees weak, and heat floods my center. But it’s over as quickly as it began.
He exhales a steadying breath, which calms me. At least we’re struggling to keep ourselves in check together. “Just like you told me what you needed, I’ll tell you what I need. When we get to that point. Which isn’t now, because what I need is for you to let me make you dinner and treat you like the princess you are, at least for the next two hours, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
He hands me my wine and takes a hefty gulp of his own.
“Can I do anything to help with dinner?” The sooner we eat, the sooner we can get back to him telling me what else he needs.
“You can keep me company while I finish up.”
“What are we having?” It’s the first time I’ve processed how mouthwateringly delicious it smells in here.
“Fresh rolls from Best Buns Bakery, a mixed green salad with that balsamic dressing you and Rix make, pan-seared sea scallops, and fettuccine Alfredo—and whatever you brought for dessert.”
“Those are all my favorites.” Every time we go for dinner at Greystones, I order the scallops or their peppercorn fettuccine.
“I know what you love.” He kisses me softly on the cheek.
I’m at risk of melting into the floor. Dates with university guys aren’t like this. At all.
“What’s in here?” He taps the dish I brought.
“Rix and I made individual lemon meringue cheesecakes.”
“Lemon meringue is my favorite.”
I smile. “It’s like we know each other.”
