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She pulled back just enough to look at him, lips swollen, breathing hard. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, ears going red. He tried to kiss her again, but she ducked, grinning like the little brat she was.
“Uh-huh. Spill it, mountain man.”
When he hesitated one second too long, Sage pushed. Literally. She hooked a leg around his and used every ounce of strength she had to topple all seven-foot-whatever of him onto his back on the bed. He let her, landing with a huff. Before he could recover, she climbed on top, straddling his waist, her slick core grinding right against the bulge in his jeans as she pinned his wrists above his head.
Her fishnet-clad thighs flexed on either side of him. Piercings glinting in the firelight, lavender-streaked hair falling around her face like a wild halo.
“Tell me,” she purred, leaning down to nip his bottom lip, “or I’m going to be very, very mean to you.”
Cal’s face went crimson. He groaned, half-embarrassed, half-turned on beyond reason. “It’s… ah, hell sweetheart. It’s stupid.”
Sage paused as something in his voice sounded…very vulnerable.
“honey” she said suddenly concerned “…you okay, baby?”
He grimaced slightly as he sighed and pulled open the nightstand drawer. He handed her a black notebook. Sage, still pinning him with her hips, took the small, worn notebook and flipped it open.
Her heart stopped.
Page after page of his careful, blocky handwriting. Diagrams. Little sketches. She started reading.
Slow. She told you. Listen.
Watch her face (God she is so gorgeous).
Hands warm before contact (are my hands cold? Hmmm ask her maybe).
Ask questions! (yeah… that's going to be hard…screw it she deserves everything)
Sage felt like she couldn't breathe. Her heart was so full it felt as if it was going to burst. She looked lower on the page and laughed out loud.
Her left side is more sensitive than her right…I wonder if that's the same for her pus– (he crossed it out!)…pleasure areas…
She looked at him in disbelief as he looked back nervously and with embarrassment. She looked back at the notebook. There were even tiny, surprisingly accurate drawings of female anatomy with his own annotations.
She looked closer.
OMG! These drawings have tattoos and piercings like me…oh sweetie….
Sage stared at it, tears suddenly prickling her eyes even as a huge, helpless smile broke across her face. She looked down at the giant, blushing, virgin man underneath her — the man who had saved her, loved her, and was now secretly studying how to make her feel good like it was the most important test of his life.
She turned another page.
A list of articles. Titles. The Anatomy of Female Pleasure. What Women Actually Want In Bed. A Beginner's Guide to — she couldn't finish reading it because she was crying.
She closed the notebook.
She set it back on the nightstand. Carefully. Aligned it the way he would have aligned it. Smoothed the cover with her palm.
Then she turned around.
“Cal…” Her voice cracked with pure adoration. “You made notes?”
He looked mortified. “I just… I wanted it to be good for you. First time and all. I watched some videos, read stuff, wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget—”
She cut him off with a kiss so deep and grateful it stole both their breaths. When she pulled back, her eyes were shining.
