I stepped forward and wrapped my whole hand around her supple neck, pulling her up to me as I bent to her. Strong and soft.
She moaned before our lips met in the middle. I brought my other hand to her hip at a respectful height on her waist. I wanted her to know that she had the power here, that she could stop anytime. I was nothing to fear. My fingers tightened as her hips collided with mine. But I also wanted her to know that I needed her.
I never wanted anybody as I wanted her right now at this moment. It was an all-consuming heat. The lightness of a man unburdened. She knew the truth, and she trusted me.
If perception made reality, then I was ready to be the man reflected in her eyes when she looked at me like this.
I needed her. It became evident that everything I’d kept buried, a long-harbored crush on the woman I thought was too good for me, came exploding to the surface with a pressure that could only come from long suppression.
I was vaguely aware of the person I thought Bee was before this night, but I couldn’t remember any of that. That illusion was a projected idea formed from a small town’s opinion and glimpses caught through a storefront window. Now, there was only this woman here. This beauty who’d revealed herself to me in these short hours of my longest night. Fiery and fierce, gentle and fragile. Forgiving. I wanted all her multiple facets like a gem that only got more beautiful the more the flaws were studied and its brilliance brought out by contrast and light.
I lowered my mouth to kiss her as she came to meet me. A tender and tentative brush of lips like in the tram. Only this time, Bee wasn’t having it. She pushed up on her toes to deepen the kiss, pressing her mouth harder against mine, opening her mouth to let my tongue in. Her hand rested on my chest, and my heartbeat slammed against her palm.
Our mouths explored each other, and it was delicious and perfect. We broke the short kiss, and I blinked at her, my own shock reflected in her look. Should kisses feel that good? Should it feel that right?
“My neck hurts,” she whispered.
Maybe not.
“Oh. We can stop?—”
“No, you’re just tall, and I’m not a giraffe. Let’s move to the bed.” She grabbed my wrist, and I let myself be yanked.
We landed on our sides in a tangle of limbs, though I was careful not to crush anything in the process—including my heavy erection. Our heads met on the pillows, equal playing field now. And we kissed more. Her taste was incredible. The sounds she made drove me wild. My hands fought to stay respectful, but there was so much exposed skin they couldn’t find one area to settle. Our bodies rocked closer and closer with the passion of our kissing until I was aware I’d pushed one of my thighs between her legs, and she was rubbing herself against it.
“Can I touch you?” I asked.
She sucked in a shaking breath. “God, please.”
I smoothed my hand over her waist, stomach, and hip. I ran my fingertips up and down her legs, enthralled by the goose bumps that followed my touch.
“You’re so beautiful, Bee,” I said. “I’ve thought so for a very long time.”
Maybe I’d expected a quip in return, but when she looked at me, lips swollen, color high on her cheeks, there was only raw honesty.
“I wish you had told me sooner,” she said with soft vulnerability.
“I do too,” I said.
“I didn’t think anybody—” She cut herself off, deciding against something. “Thank you for telling me now.”
“I should have told you that any time I see you in town, my mouth goes dry, and I cross the street so that I don’t risk sounding stupid in front of you, but I think you’re the most beautiful woman in town, and more than that, the most interesting. If I’m being honest, I don’t actually notice any other women.” As I spoke, my hand continued to explore her hot, smooth skin. Her face was torn between focusing on my words and enjoying my caresses. My middle finger dipped low into her bottoms, and the muscles of her abdomen contracted.
She sucked in a breath.
“I should have told you that day I passed your shop that I dreamed about you,” I whispered. I watched her face closely as my middle finger brushed slowly down her pelvis until I reached her seam. I released a shaking breath when I was met with slick moisture. “Fuck,” I said, feeling my control start to fray.
Be gentle, stay calm.
“I-I thought of you too,” she said on a hitched breath when I barely dipped one finger into her center. Color rushed to her cheeks, and I leaned forward to kiss her again briefly.
“Is that okay? Does that feel good?” I asked.
“Yes. Go over to—yes, there, and then use your middle finger to—oh.” Her head went back, and her mouth parted on a sharp gasp in. “Yes.”
“Yeah?” Her words sank in as I used her wet to slick up and down and all around her. Petting her, teasing her, studying every twitch of her mouth and intake of breath. I hadn’t learned these new expressions of hers yet and would need to translate them.
“And this?” I brushed my thumb over her swollen clit as my fingers crooked inside her.
