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He’s so striking that it would be impossible for any woman not to do a double-take, but it’s his charming smile and golden-tinged green eyes that totally disarm me.
I stand, smoothing my hands over my shorts, conscious of the heat that’s prickling my skin. My internal voice whispers to tell him I’m working. It’s too soon. I’m not prepared. But the truth is I don't think I’m ever going to be truly ready. “It’s okay. Come in. Close the door.” My heart hammers a frantic drumbeat against the cage of my ribs, as though it’s desperate to escape.
When Stefan takes a step into my room and pushes the door firmly shut, I instinctively take a step back. “Shall I lock it too?”
“Definitely.” I smile nervously and take another step back. With Stefan in the room, it suddenly feels so much smaller. He isn’t an overwhelmingly large man, but his lean broadness and height make me feel tiny and insubstantial. That and the reason he’s here.
“I can feel your nerves from here.” He tips his head to one side and peruses me. “I get why you feel that way. This is a weird situation and my first time with a woman I haven’t kissed or at least seduced.”
“The first time you’ve been in a situation with a woman who knows what your cock looks like when you haven’t got it out yet?”
He grins at my attempt to break the tension; the expression crinkling his eyes and making them seem soft and kind.
“Yeah. That’s the weirdest part.” He takes a step forward, and then another, carefully as though he’s conscious that a sudden move will startle me. I hold my ground, even though I feel like backing against the wall, pressing myself against the cool plaster, watching him move with trepidation pulsing in every cell of my body.
“It’s a weird situation,” he says, his voice taking on a low gravelly quality that makes the back of my neck feel fizzy. “But I’ll make it good for you, Allie. If it’s what you want? You can relax. I’ll lead the way.”
When he’s close enough to touch me, his eyes drop to my lips. He traps his bottom lip between his teeth, a moment of restraint and consideration before he moves to the next step. “It is what you want?”
My voice feels trapped within the tightness of my throat, so I nod, eyes wide with anticipation. I want to kiss him. I want to know what those lips will feel like against mine. But kissing is intimate. Isn’t that why it’s said sex workers reserve it for their lovers? Will Stefan even want to do that with me?
The answer comes quicker than I expect. First, he slides his thumb across my bottom lip, testing its plump softness. Then he dips down, and I let my eyelids fall, needing the dark safety behind them, wanting the anticipation that not quite knowing what’s coming next will bring.
Our first kiss is like the slow drip of honey from a fresh comb, sweet and languid. Stefan explores my mouth, his hands cradling my nape and gently gripping the sides of my throat. When I moan, he goes deeper, sliding his tongue over mine so perfectly that my knees go weak.
So this is what my friends used to speak about. Kisses that make your head feel like a helium balloon with its strings cut. Kisses that turn knees tojello. Stefan takes his time, building my trust with his gentle touch, easing his hand from my neck and letting his fingers trace my collarbone and lower until his hands are at my waist.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks again.
“I don’t know what I want,” I whisper. “That’s always been my problem.”
He smiles, kissing the corner of my mouth, and the relief I feel that there’s no frustration at my words, and no anger, burns my throat.
“So, we take it slow. And if you decide at any point that you want to stop, you just need to tell me. I’m going to ask you what feels good, and I want you to be honest. No fake moans. No fake enthusiasm. I want to learn to read you. I want you to come to know yourself and the things you like. The only way I can do that is if you teach me what you like as we go.”
“Okay,” I squeak, as Stefan touches my waist, his hand pushing at the fabric of my top, easing it up to reveal more and more skin.
“I’m going to take this off.”
I don’t object when he takes hold of the hem on both sides and draws it up and over my head. He’s seen me in a bikini and my bra isn’t that much more revealing except the way his eyes darken at my nudity is something new.
“Take off your bra.”
It’s a front fastener, so there’s no slow reveal. It just parts easily, revealing everything. Stefan folds his lips in, and when they’re released, they’re glossy and even more kissable.
“Can I touch you?” he asks, his hand already twitching at his side.
“Yes.” It’s a breathy whisper, a voice that doesn’t sound like mine.
I expect him to pinch and squeeze the way my other boyfriends have. That kind of touch has never done anything for me. I’ve never understood how easily men approach such a soft part of a woman’s body with a hard touch.
Stefan’s different, though. His fingers trail as light as a feather across my skin. When he weighs my breast in his palm, it’s with soft reverence. When he circles my nipple, it’s as though he’s stirring his finger through water. I close my eyes and relax into the tingly feeling as nerve endings that have been long dormant come alive.
“So pretty,” he murmurs. “Do you even realize how pretty you are?”
I swallow against the unexpected lump wedged in my throat. The tiny shake of my head is instinct and he tsks. I open my eyes and find him licking his index finger. “So pretty,” he whispers again, trailing the wetness around my nipple, the air cooling against the moisture and drawing it tight.
I expect Stefan to want to move on, to strip me of the rest of my clothes and race to the finish line, but he’s like a man presented with a tiny portion of Michelin starred cuisine that he intends to savor with slow, deliberate appreciation. I become like liquid beneath his soft touch. Dark swirling liquid that craves to be explored.
