She squeezes me again, but this time, her lips brush my shoulder instead of her breath. “Nothing about our time together has been the way I’d planned,” she says. “It’s been better than I’d hoped, though.”

I squeeze my arms around her shoulders. “Please don’t make me cry already.”

“I’ll try,” she says, squeezing me back.

We hold each other for a few silent moments. There is no rush now, no doubt pushing us too fast or making us second-guess each step. I think we needed this moment together. Apparently, Darren was right.

When I pull back from Nadia, I move my arms to hold her face. “I think you’re going to be very good at this, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, her fingertips tickling my hips.

I nod quickly. “If Darren has been giving you pointers, I might pass out at some point tonight.”

She laughs adorably, and I find all of her sexy as hell.

massage

I have Nadia turn on her front.

Once again, I am proud of my ability to put my own pleasure to the side. I want a medal.

A cookie.

Nadia’s cookie.

That’s a great joke. I’ll make sure to tell them later.

Right now, I crawl to the foot of the bed. I dig my fingers into the jar of body butter with my right hand, smear it on my left palm, and then smooth my hands together, melting the body butter into oil. I reach for Nadia’s left foot.

I focus every ounce of my attention on not lifting my eyes to Nadia’s soft thighs and anything in between. I make myself keep my gaze squarely on the soles of Nadia’s feet.

Nadia’s adorable feet.

Nadia’s sexy feet.

“Do you think feet are sexy?” I ask without thinking as I lift her leg by one ankle and then smooth my palm down the sole.

“Like in a ‘she has cute feet, I wonder where she gets her pedicures done’ kind of way? Or in a ‘perfectly acceptable between consenting adults and a Costco tub of lotion’ kind of way?”

I press my thumb into the heel of her foot, and she groans. “Both?”

“Sure,” she says in a wistful tone. “I mean, feet don’t get me off, but whatever works for you is my motto.”

“Hmmm,” I hum and press my thumb through her arch. She groans into the pillow as I begin to massage the ball of her foot.

“Shit! Right fucking there,” Nadia sighs.

“How many times do you think someone is going to say that tonight?” I ask.

She laughs into the pillow.