I liked that more than I expected.
Imani had never needed anybody to think for her. Half our conversations involved her explaining why she knew better than whoever had irritated her that day. But every now and then, with me, she liked putting something down and letting me lead for a minute.
That night was the first time I understood how much trust lived inside that.
I got her jeans off and helped her step out of them. She stood in front of me wearing a bra I was almost positive she had bought for this exact moment and panties that were already wet enough for the lace to cling to her.
My mouth went dry.
“Damn, Mani.”
Her thighs moved together. “What?”
I touched her through the lace, light at first, just enough to feel what my eyes had already seen.
“You wet already?”
“Dre.”
I smiled because she wanted to be grown enough to have sex with me and was still shy enough to get embarrassed when I noticed how turned on she was.
“That’s a good thing.”
“It is?”
“Hell yeah.”
She laughed softly, but the laugh broke when I pressed my fingers a little firmer against her.
Her knees softened.
“Baby.”
Her eyes closed.
I kissed her and kept my hand there, rubbing her through the thin lace until she stopped trying to hide what felt good. She rocked into my hand once, then caught herself.
“Don’t stop doing that,” I said against her mouth.
Her eyes opened. “Doing what?”
“Letting me know.”
Pleasure moved across her face.
I wanted her body awake before I even thought about getting inside her. Wanted her wet and open. Wanted the first thing she remembered to be pleasure, not pain. Wanted her to understand right there, before anything else happened, that she didn’t have to lie still or quiet herself down for me.
I moved her back until her legs touched the bed.
“Sit.”
She did.
I knelt in front of her and slid my hands up her calves, over her knees, to the inside of her thighs. She watched me like she trusted me and still needed to see what I was going to do with all that trust.
I kissed one knee.
Then the other.