He read her silent message, moved down her body, and used one hand to cup each breast. And while she appreciated that he knew what she wanted, she also kind of wanted to stick with the whole talking thing she’d discovered last time. It had been such a revelation. And so hot.

“Will you put your mouth on my breasts, Sawyer?”

“Yes.” He lowered his head and sucked, sharp and quick, on one nipple. A bolt of lightning extended from his mouth through the nipple to her center. He pulled back and examined her. “I love how hard your nipples get.”

“The other one’s a lot more sensitive for some random reason. Always has been.”

The hand on her left breast moved up and grazed that nipple. “How come I never knew that?”

“I never told you,” she said quickly, not wanting to make this about his perceived shortcomings. “But I’m telling you now.”

He smiled, slow and predatory but somehow still infused with the lightheartedness that seemed to be all around them. “I wonder if beards work on sensitive left nipples, too.”

There went the burners in her cheeks. She inhaled automatically, sharply. Held her breath for a moment and on the exhalation said, “There’s only one way to find out.”

Then he went to town on her. There was no other way to say it. All of his attention was focused on the one breast. He licked and sucked and kneaded and rubbed his beard on the hardened nub. And he just kept going, the sensations piling up inside her until they became almost painful. She squirmed, but he was relentless. The pressure built and built, both in her breast and between her legs.

“I think I could come just from this,” she gasped as he did a swirling thing with his tongue.

He stopped just long enough to say, “I’m going to take that as a challenge.”

It was a challenge he won.

“Oh my God,” she panted when she’d come back to earth.

“Did you come when we were together when we were younger? Generally speaking?”

Oh no. Here they went. There was no good way to answer that question.

He must have taken her silence as an answer, because he lowered his head to her neck and said, “I’m sorry.”

She grabbed his cheeks and forced him to look at her. “Sawyer. We were teenagers.”

“Still. I should have asked.”

“I should have said.” She wasn’t even that good at masturbating back then. “I hardly knew how to make myself come. There was no way I ever would have had the guts to try to show someone else how to do it. I love my parents, but they sort of flunked the birds-and-the-bees talk.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t have been having sex.”

“I loved having sex with you. You turned me on.”

“I just never finished the job.”