My past is my past

He groans loudly, closing his eyes again, tipping his head back. Oh my . . . Seeing him undone is enough to seal my fate, and I come audibly, exhaustingly, spinning down and around, collapsing on top of him.

“Oh, baby,” he groans as he finds his release, holding me still and letting go.My head is on his chest in the no-go area, my cheek nestled against the springy hair on his sternum. I am panting, glowing, and I resist the urge to pucker my lips and kiss him.I just lie on top of him, catching my breath. He smoothes my hair, and his hand runs down my back, caressing me as his breathing calms.“You are so beautiful.”

I lift my head to gaze at him, my expression skeptical. He frowns in response and sits up quickly, taking me by surprise, his arm sweeping round to hold me in place. I clutch his biceps as we are nose to nose.“You. Are. Beautiful,” he says again, his tone emphatic.“And you’re amazingly sweet sometimes.” I kiss him gently.

He lifts me and eases out of me. I wince as he does. Leaning forward, he kisses me softly.“You have no idea how attractive you are, do you?”I flush. Why’s he going on about this?“All those boys pursuing you—that isn’t enough of a clue?”

Keeping my eyes on his, I reach down and trace my finger underneath the lipstick line, across his finely sculptured abdominal muscles. He flinches and I stop.“I don’t have to,” I whisper.“No, it’s fine. Just takes some . . . readjustment on my part. No one’s touched me for a long time,” he murmurs.