I didn’t protest when he unbuttoned my shorts and dropped to his knees in front of me to slide them down my legs, along with my panties. My eyes glossed over with an unfamiliar feeling, like everything he did entered my bloodstream—a drug that robbed any sense of control or objection my brain might have otherwise formulated.

Lifting one leg and then the other, he freed them from my shorts.

“Fisher …” Everything inside of me felt heavy and slow. My dry mouth panted slowly.

Was he going to put his mouth between my legs?

Was I going to stop him if he did?

All these things I didn’t know for sure. Part of me wanted him to stop because I wasn’t sure I had the will power to do it myself. But a bigger part of me indulged the curiosity that seemed to have the greatest power over my decisions in that moment.

What were his plans for us? Sex? Oral sex?

He kissed my hipbone and moved a little lower … and a little lower yet. My heart thundered so loudly in my chest, sending blood whooshing past my ears with such force, I could barely hear him when he did speak.

“Do you want me to kiss you here?” He brushed his lips lightly over that part of me.

“I … I … don’t know.” Harsh breaths rushed past my lips as I rested my hands on the side of the pool table to steady myself.

“No?” He left a tiny kiss there, before navigating up my body, resting his hands on the pool table next to mine while he flicked his tongue over my nipple before standing straight and shrugging off his shirt. “We’ll go until you tell me to stop?”

My lazy gaze worked its way up his body to meet his gaze, and after a few seconds, I nodded. I didn’t really know my limit that night. Sex didn’t feel right, but stopping felt a little wrong and even a little impossible. All I could do was let him continue and hope that I’d find my limit, that stopping point.

Fisher grabbed my face and kissed me, our tongues mingling as my nipples brushed his chest. And I needed more. My fingers teased his abs just above the waist of his jeans, and he moaned into the kiss. Then my brave and completely inexperienced fingers moved lower, tracing the outline of his erection, and his hips thrust forward into my touch as he moaned a little louder … kissed me a little harder … and lifted me onto the edge of the pool table.

It was wrong. I thought. I maybe even knew. But I didn’t want to take responsibility … not yet. The feeling … the drug he became … was too strong.