Touching makes it intentional. Kissing combined with touching creates the shift from kissing to arousal to sex. Joy only wanted the first part. Maybe not forever, but certainly for right now.

“Depends where.”

He thinks about it and answers, voice low in earnest, “Is everywhere too much?”

Joy laughs, wrapping her arms around his neck and repeatedly kissing his cheeks. “It might be, so let’s start slow.”

“What are you doing?”

She pauses, holding the hem of her sweatshirt. “I’m taking off my clothes. I’m okay with some touching. Unless you want me to keep them on?”

“Hmm.” Fox squeezes his eyes shut for a second, shaking his head. “Can I just?” He touches her at the waist. “Maybe I should do that.”

“Oh,” she says, understanding him. “Panties on unless I say otherwise.”

“I understand. Lift your arms.” His voice is firm, a rumbling command. She does and he slides her sweatshirt off with one hand and unclasps her bra with the other.

That’s . . . skillful.

Fox kisses up her neck and ends with nibbling her earlobe as his fingers trace the outline of her shoulder blades. Joy places her hands on his shoulders, trying to concentrate on how each sensation feels so she can remember what she likes but it blurs together, everything sending signals to her brain at once.

He stops, moving to kiss her chin. “You don’t like being on your back.”

Joy bites her lip in surprise. When did he figure that out? He said it like he already knew the answer, so she nods to confirm.

“If I’m next to you will that work? Not on top or over. Just right next to you, like we’re side by side.”

“I’ve never tried that.”

“Do you want to? You can say a flower if you want to stop.”

Joy kisses his forehead. “Let’s try it.” She lies back in the bed, head propped up by pillows.

True to his word, he stays next to her, completely to one side as he kisses her. He creates a path, touching and kissing and tasting down her body—her neck, her shoulders, each of her arms and all her fingers, her chest, down, down, down, down. When she laughs because it tickles, he does too. When he takes off her shorts, lifting her legs in the air and kissing down the length of them, she holds his gaze. On the way back up, he pays special attention to all the spots he missed on the way down, like the backs of her knees, her elbows, and her waist—

Joy shivers and gasps, back arching. There’s a slight tremble low in her abdomen. The same kind she gets when she masturbates.

“You okay?”

“Kiss me again. Right there.”

He does and the same thing happens—she laughs this time, absolutely delighted by the sensation.

“Ahh,” he says. “I think you have a spot.”