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That earned the softest kiss of all directly beside it. “A kiss to make it better, babygirl.”

Then lower still. By the time his mouth reached between my thighs, I had stopped pretending I knew what I was doing.

He did. Or he was an excellent improviser.

Either possibility annoyed me on principle and became impossible to care about approximately thirty seconds later.

He used his mouth and hands until I was twisting against the sheets, my good heel digging uselessly into the mattress.

The first time pleasure tightened sharply enough that I tried to close my legs, he held them open.

His eyes lifted to mine.

“Don’t stop,” I told him.

He didn’t.

I came with his name in my mouth and one fist buried in his hair.

For a while afterward I could hear nothing except my own breathing.

Then his.

He climbed back over me and kissed me.

I tasted myself on his mouth. That should have embarrassed me.

It didn’t.

I was still coming back to earth when I felt his hips settling between my legs. He rubbed his blunt tip against my entrance.

My whole body reacted.

So did his.

He stopped.

“Are you on birth control?” he panted.

“No.” Why would I be? I certainly hadn’t been expecting this. Wanted it? Every day. Thought it could happen this suddenly? Never.

He cursed, the most foul diatribe I’d ever heard come out of him. “No condoms. No way to get them without alerting two houses full of nosy, gun-toting maniacs.”

I stared at him. “I’m impressed.”

“What?”

“That was a lot of profanity from you.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

He gave me a look that suggested I was missing the point.

I wasn’t. All this waiting and the only thing stopping us was a technicality. It was infuriating. “Can’t you just pull out before you come? Shouldn’t that work?”

“It’s not reliable enough to trust, and besides that I don’t know if I can pull out. I’ve never been inside of you, babygirl, I don’t trust myself to keep any brain cells once I get a feel of you.”