“You do?”

He was shocked that he’d said such a thing. He shouldn’t have had so much alcohol, either. It had gone to his head. She was going to his head.

“I thought men liked women with big breas…breats…breasts,” she said, getting it right on the third try.

“I like small ones,” he replied. He moved onto the bed next to her. His lean hand went to the buttons on her blouse. “Don’t let me do this.”

She laid back with her arms beside her head. “Okay,” she agreed, smiling dizzily.

“That’s not helping.”

She moved lazily. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“I want you to stop me.”

She blinked as he got the blouse open and started on the front hook that held her lacy little brassiere together. “Stop you from doing what?”

“This,” he said, pulling the edges away. He caught his breath. She was beautiful. Her skin was silky, glowing, perfect. Firm little breasts with hard pink nipples. It was as if he’d never seen a woman before.

“I’m too little,” she began.

“Oh, baby, you’re not too little,” he whispered, bending toward her. “You’re just right…!”

His mouth settled right over her breast. And while his tongue worked on the nipple, he suckled her suddenly. She came right off the bed with a husky little cry and caught his head. But she was pulling, not pushing.

“Oh my gosh…!” she cried out, gasping.

She made it all new for him. He was as inebriated as she was, out of control and having the time of his life. He was sixteen again, with his first woman. That was how it felt.

“You taste like candy,” he murmured against her soft skin.

His big, lean hands smoothed up her sides, easing her out of the blouse and bra. They felt wonderful on her skin.

“It’s…not like it is in books,” she managed unsteadily.

“Isn’t it?” he whispered as he moved to the other breast. “How so?”

She shivered. “I didn’t know it would feel…like this,” she whispered brokenly.

“And we’ve barely started.”

She would have said something else but his mouth moved up to cover hers softly, slowly, hungrily, and while he kissed her, he unsnapped his shirt. Seconds later, she felt his bare chest against her bare breasts. She moaned so hungrily that whatever effort he might have made to slow things down went up in smoke.

HE HAD HER out of her clothing with an ease that should have set up red flags in her mind, except that he kept her at fever pitch the whole time. His mouth was all over her, exploring her, tempting her, teaching her, in a hot silence that went from pleasure to higher pleasure, each plateau leading only to another, better one.

She was dimly aware that he’d moved the covers and the pillows off the bed and that more bare skin than ever was now in contact with her own. She thought that she should say something, protest, slow him down. But what she was feeling was new and exciting, and her inhibitions had long ago been compromised by the unfamiliar liquor.