He says nothing. Doesn’t guide my movements or tell me what to do. He just lets me explore the impressive topography of his chest, running my fingers over the hot skin. The only hair is a small patch just below his belly button. After I’ve traced the V that points between his legs, my hand ends up there. I swallow, then move lower, dipping beneath the elastic hem of his sweatpants.

“You don’t have to.”

The gravel in his voice heats my blood. Tells me he wants me to. “I know.”

I slide my hand into his sweatpants, tugging the gray cotton down. He’s not wearing anything underneath. The heavy weight of his erection bobs free. I close my fist around it, exploring the hard length the same way I did to his chest. Tracing the flared head and the throbbing vein.

His abs clench, and I can tell he’s holding himself back. I’ve never done this before, never even seen a guy’s penis in person. It’s bigger than I imagined, but I don’t have anything to compare it to.

I swallow, then lean over and suck the tip into my mouth. He tastes salty. Groans when I run my tongue around the head. I gain some confidence, taking more of him into my mouth. I want to please him, want to give him pleasure the same way he crazed me.

His fingers thread into my hair. It’s a gentle, light touch. A caress, almost.

I pull back for a breath. Stand. There’s a flicker of something—disappointment, maybe—on Holden’s face. It disappears when I sink to my knees between his legs, tugging his sweatpants down farther.

“Take off your shirt,” he tells me.

“Because I asked you to take off yours?”

“No. Because I want to look at your tits while I fuck your mouth.”

Electricity zings between us. It’s not a total surprise to learn Holden has a dirty mouth. He’s always had a colorful vocabulary. It’s one of the reasons people were surprised we were such good friends when we were younger. Holden would be the kid dropping swears during recess while I was the one insisting everyone follow the rules when we played Capture the Flag. Me and Sydney make more sense. She’s as much of a good girl as I am.

But there’s something in me that craves the rebellion. That hates how people think they always know what to expect from me, who think I’m always sweet and polite.

Holden sees that in me. Draws it out of me.

So, I put on a show for him. I lean back on my heels and drag my shirt up slowly, revealing my skin to him inch by inch. His eyes grow hooded and heavy as I push my breasts together, his hand falling and stroking his dick.

“Cassia,” Holden whispers.