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Perhaps I should tone down my excitement or at bare minimum make it less obvious. Though with the way my hips are swaying side to side with ample pep in my step I’d say it’s too late.

I make my way to him and lower myself onto his lap, straddling him. Hyperaware of his growing, concealed bulge, I roll my hips subtly as I can once, reveling in anticipation of the fun we’re about to have.

“Feel better?” I hum, stroking his defined jawline in my palm.

“Lia.” He breathes my name with such obvious torment that if it weren’t for his hands pulling at my hips bringing me closer, I’d think he doesn’t want this.

“What’s wrong?” I go to pull back, but his hands cement themselves further onto my hips, kneading them with a possessive grip that’s very becoming of him.

“Nothing.” He sucks in a breath. “Nothing at all. It’s just that I really need to…”

Shut the fuck up and kiss me.

I can’t take another second of this. I need his mouth on mine. What I don’t need right now are more words. I want to feel—good, wanted, loved—by him and I’m not wasting another second.

The kiss I interrupt him with escalates from gentle to ravenous in a matter of seconds. Our tongues are caught in an explorative dance, finding perfect rhythm with the other, making it clear that words are cheap. What our bodies are shouting for us speaks for itself.

This feeling of mutual desire is everything I’ve craved, and, for the longest time, thought I didn’t deserve. It’s bittersweet. Though the longer our lips are tangled, the more I realize I don’t want this to end. It can’t. I got through losing him once. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to make it through the loss again.

Lost in my thoughts, not wanting this moment to end, I’m only brought back to reality when he pulls away, breaking our kiss.

Vulnerability smacks me in the face as I’m left to stare at him. I’ve never felt such desperation burrow itself inside of me. I should be embarrassed at the way my hands are now clasped around his head, unintentionally yanking at his hair in the process, but I need his lips where they belong…on mine.

“Please, I just need to get this off my chest. It’s important.”

I let out a sigh, trying to ignore the throb between my thighs growing more intense by the second. My brows lift, signaling him to get on with it.

“I’m…” Giving me lady blue balls. “I’m…” Torturing me.

“Oh my god, Rennix, just spit it out. You’re what?” My hands flee from his head as I toss them up in the air.

“All right, here goes nothing.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it before finally saying, “I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“How much of a virgin are we talking about? Are we talking all bases covered except for home base? Did you try it once at least? Just the tip, just for a…”

His brows fall in a straight, unimpressed line. “Please don’t quote Wedding Crashers right now.”

“Why not?” I playfully tap his shoulder. “It’s a good movie. Remember? You were laughing hysterically almost the whole time.”

A nostalgic grin stretches along his face, deepening his dimples.

It’s working, I’m helping him relax the best way I know how, with humor.

“Of course I do. Remember how mad the old lady in front of us was with how much I was laughing? She threatened to hit me with her cane if I didn’t cool my jets, I think she called it.”

“I told you not to smoke that joint before the movie.” I shrug, shaking my head in jest. “But you didn’t listen.”

“Watching comedies high makes everything funnier, I couldn’t help it.”

“True. Now, as much as I love going down memory lane, I want to rewind back to the virgin thing. How virgin are we talking?”

His Adam’s apple slowly protrudes and works its way down his throat. “I’m as virgin as it gets.”

“Seriously? Not even a kiss?”