There’s a delicate flush climbing her neck. I touch it with a lazy forefinger, tracing designs into the pink skin. Beautiful, I spell out at the base of her throat.

She swallows hard. “Shouldn’t we—? I think we should be professional.”

“Think some more,” I tell her, leaning close for a kiss.

She tastes as sweet as I remember from that night, like honey and milk and salt. All things nourishment. I drink from her lips, taking my time.

There’s no rush. Not like LA. Not like before. We have the rest of eternity, and I use it to brush my lips against hers. To suck her bottom lip between mine. To bite down gently.

To explore every inch of her, to map out her expressions.

“You taste so good,” I murmur between bites. “But I want something else with that mouth.”

Such a doe, this one. Eyes wide. “I’ve never—”

“You’ve never given a blowjob before?”

That’s a surprise. I would have thought she’d tried that with her cheese counter boy. Or at least with someone else in high school. She’s absolutely gorgeous. A knockout. With that thick mane of black hair and dark eyes, those long lashes and full lips, to look at her is to get hard. How did she evade every horny boy? It’s almost enough to make me think twice. I should let her go back to that boring, wholesome life of hers, but God, that mouth.

“I’ll teach you. Get on your knees.”

She stands very still and very tall. There’s a gentle sway, but no breeze in the room. I’m pushing every one of her boundaries tonight. This is a test. She drops suddenly, one knee to the floor, then the other. Her lips are trembling. It shouldn’t be so sexy, the way she shakes. This is her own personal ocean. Darkness and chaos. Water in her lungs.

I put my thumb to her lips. “Open for me.”

She does, and I push inside. For a moment I only enjoy the heat, the wetness.

My cock is like steel in my slacks, wanting to be where my thumb is. I push deeper, feeling the warmth of her tongue.

She struggles, not knowing what to do, coming to terms with the invasion.

She looks up at me with trust. She may not know that’s what it is, but I know, and it scares the living hell out of me.

“Suck,” I tell her gently, and she closes her lips around me.

The suction is sweet. I enjoy that for a few moments, along with the faint wet sounds. Is there anything hotter than silence with only those faint wet sounds? It means I’m going down on a woman or she’s going down on me.