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"It won't be boring." He pulls me into his lap. He picks up my blazer. "It might be easier in this."
My chest flames. My stomach. My sex. Affection and need surge through my body. He wants to watch me swim. He wants to be here next year. He wants to help me into something that will make it easier to expose my breasts.
I'm not sure which part is scarier.
No. That's easy. The thought of him being here next spring. That's a long relationship. That comes with expectations of other kinds of intimacy.
This—
The biggest danger here is an arrest as a sex offender. That's nothing compared to sharing my secrets.
"If you won't be too hot." He offers the blazer.
I slide it on.
Patrick pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
My body responds with gusto. Every part of me is awake and alive and every part wants him.
I don't care if he has the upper hand. I don't care if he wins. I don't care about anything besides my skin against his.
I turn toward him.
He traces the waist of my jeans. Right to left and left to right.
He circles the button with his fingers. He brings his hand to my crop top and rolls it up my chest, one inch at a time.
Until I'm in his lap, exposed.
Patrick pulls back with a needy sigh. He takes a long, long moment to look at me. He stares with wonder, like this is the first time he's ever seen me, like I'm the only thing he's ever wanted.
Right now, I feel it.
Anyone else, it doesn't matter.
This is what matters.
I turn a little more toward him.
He brings one hand to my chest, cups my breast with his palm.
"I have to ask you something," I say.
"Now?"
"Now." I sigh as he toys with my nipple. "I like this. Trying to make normal conversation while you touch me."
"Me too." He presses his lips to my neck. "I like torturing you."
"But this is about sex."
"Oh?" He brings his other hand to my hip. Adjusts me so I'm right on top of his hard-on.
Fuck, that feels good. I need it. Now. "We're both safe."
"Yeah." He moves to my other breast and toys with it.
I rest my head against his chest. This feels good. Too good. I can't hold on to conscious thought. It's impossible. "Have you ever?"
