“I don’t want you to stop,” I whisper, and he reaches underneath me for the clasp. He fiddles with it for a minute, unable to get it open, and I reach back and do it for him, pulling the bra away before I have a chance to talk myself out of it. He smiles and leans down to kiss me again, covering my body with his. The feeling of skin against skin is electrifying.

“Keely,” he whispers, pulling me tighter against him. He reaches a hand up to touch my chest, slow and gentle, and I find that I don’t mind it, find myself actually enjoying it. I reach for the clasp of his belt buckle with tentative fingers and slowly pull out the leather strap. He moves his hands off me and reaches down to help, unzipping his jeans. He has to sit up away from me to pull them off, and they get stuck around his feet.

Once they’re off, he drops them onto the floor and comes back over to me in just his boxers. They’re dark green and covered with little four-leaf clovers, and I notice with a thrill of—what, fear? Anxiety? Excitement?—that there’s a tent in the front.

He reaches for the button of my jeans, and I gasp in surprise as I feel the pressure of his fingers through the fabric.

“Still okay?” he whispers, holding his fingers there on the button, not moving. I nod, kissing him softly on the side of the mouth. I lay my hand over his and help him move the button aside, sucking in a nervous breath as he pulls down the zipper. I feel strangely as if I’m in a dream, as if we’re two people outside of ourselves. He pulls my pants slowly down my legs. When he sees my underwear, he grins.

“Polar bears?”

I flush, biting my lip to keep from laughing. He tosses my pants onto the floor and kisses me again, lying back on top of me and settling in. I’m acutely aware that all that separates us are two thin layers of cotton, and my mind is reeling. I can feel the hardness of him pressed against me, and I press into it, making him gasp. He pulls his face away from mine and gazes at me, bringing a hand up to cradle the side of my face.