“You were wrong the first time too.”
His mouth curved.
He bent and kissed the center of the tattoo.
My breath deepened.
Noah looked up.
“Good?”
“Very.”
He guided me onto my back.
The assertiveness surprised me enough that I let out a quiet laugh.
He shifted onto his uninjured side and leaned over me, careful of the hip. His mouth traveled from my throat to my chest. His hand found the fastening of my jeans.
I caught his wrist.
“What’s the plan?”
“Hands. Kissing. Maybe mouths.”
“The full results aren’t back.”
“The rapid-test panel was negative.”
“That doesn’t answer the concern.”
He considered it without pulling away.
“Hands only?”
“That’s safe.”
“Both of us?”
“Yes.”
His expression brightened.
“Excellent.”
I laughed.
He kissed me before I could say anything else.
We undressed only as far as we needed. His sleep pants slid to his thighs. My jeans followed. Cool air moved across heated skin.
Noah looked down at the closeness of our bodies.
There was no shame in his face.
Only wonder.
“I like seeing us this way,” he whispered.
