I’m struck by a desire to make tonight special. I slide down the dimmer on my light switch to minimize the stark effect of my bright white walls. I light the candle on my coffee table; the flickering golden light and heady scent of sandalwood create a softer atmosphere. I turn on my speaker and queue up the sultry R&B playlist I sometimes like to listen to when I’m alone. I take off my earrings and place them on my nightstand.

Raj doesn’t even bother with the pretense of sitting politely on my couch. Instead, he follows my lead when I step out of my shoes and crawl onto my bed. I’m glad I took the time earlier to make it look cozy and inviting. I recline against the oversized pillows; he props himself up on his elbows and stretches out along the length of the bed. I expect another kiss like the one in the car, but the newfound sense of privacy stirs something in Raj. His mouth moves more passionately over mine; his hands explore more; his grip is firmer than it was before. My dress slips down over my shoulder, and he plants a row of kisses on the bare skin there.

I feel warm and relaxed in his arms, so I sit up and shimmy my dress over my head. I shake out my hair so it spills across my back. I revel in the hungry, appreciative look in his eyes. He responds by tugging his T-shirt over his head to reveal a smattering of dark chest hair and more of those well-proportioned arms I’ve thought about so many times. For the past few weeks, there’s been an ever-present buzz of stress in the back of my mind, but now, it melts away. All I care about is the feeling of his lips and skin against mine.

I reach for his belt buckle and pause with my fingers on the smooth metal.

“Is this okay?” I ask.

“Go ahead,” he says, nodding.

I loosen the buckle and his zipper, and he tugs off his pants, though he keeps his black boxer briefs on. In the past, with other guys, I’ve sometimes moved from kissing to stripping down to sex in rote fashion, like I was simply working my way through a checklist. A handful of times, I felt this unspoken pressure to keep progressing, even if I really wanted to slow down. But mostly, I just didn’t have the desire to linger. Now, however, I find myself wanting to savor the process of discovering Raj’s body inch by inch. There’s something luxurious about lounging in bed with no rush. From the tender way his hands skim over my breasts and hips and thighs, I can tell he feels the same way. I explore the planes of his chest, the divot of his lower back, and the trail of hair below his belly button.