Instead, he’s gentle and waiting. Waiting for me.

Making the moment mine.

“Fitz.” His name is a benediction on my lips and then I’m gripping his wrists, keeping his hands on me.

I sway forward, meeting him with a soft touch of my lips against his.

My first kiss.

And I took it.

Initially, a press of lips is all it is, just a hint of flesh, a gentle entreaty, a tentative meeting and introduction, hi how are you, but then the conversation gets deeper. I need to get closer. Engage in more meaningful discourse. I’m not sure who opens their mouth first, but we dive into a debate with tongues and lips and gentle sucks.

I never imagined, never understood. Heat floods through me, filling my center with throbbing need.

When he bites my bottom lip, I can’t help the moan that emerges from somewhere deep inside, the sound foreign and unfamiliar. I can’t believe I’m making these strange, needy noises, and they keep coming out.

Fitz lifts me easily, his hands strong and warm around my waist and then we’re on the bed and he’s over me. His eyes meet mine, searching, seeking approval and I give it readily. My hands wrap around his neck to keep his mouth on mine, and my legs fall open as he presses between them. My body knows exactly what it wants even if my mind isn’t quite sure yet. Our mouths are fused, tongues exploring and tasting. I can’t stop my body from responding, rubbing myself up against him, making him groan and press down harder.

“Yes,” I say into his mouth.

Even though I’ve never been kissed till tonight, I know exactly what I’m feeling pressing against me, through his jeans, and I need more.

Pounding at the door makes both of us jump. “Hey, are you guys still playing? The game’s starting again.”

We stare at each other, breathless and panting. His eyes are dark and hooded and his lips are swollen.

“Be right there,” Fitz calls out, his voice strangled.

Sound sifts back into my consciousness. There’s still a party raging in the house and I’m in the room. With Fitz. And we nearly . . . well, not really that, but still. Didn’t he disappear with Abby less than an hour ago?

Hesitation crosses his face and with a sudden movement that casts a breeze against my skin, he’s backing off and lifting himself away.

He tunnels both hands through his hair and takes a deep breath before releasing his grasp.

“Reese, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay. I mean, I did it. Not you.”

“You didn’t. I initiated it.”

“And then I made it happen.”

“But I let it get out of hand.”

“Okay, so we’re both in trouble.”

He smiles, a lopsided twist of his mouth. The same mouth that was just over me, doing magical things to my lips and tongue I didn’t even know were possible.

“It’s just, is this a good idea? Right now? Us?” he asks.