She nibbles her bottom lip before saying, “I’m on the pill.”
Stilling, I cup her cheeks as my heartbeat kicks into overtime. “Are you saying—”
“I don’t want to wait for you to go buy a condom.” She draws back. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with not using one, which is totally cool. Well, that, and if you have an STI we’re going to wait until it’s cleared up.”
A laugh bursts out of me. It honestly feels so good, I keep grinning. I love how bluntly forthright she gets in certainsituations. Even now, she simply looks at me with a quirked brow as though waiting for confirmation.
“I’m good to go,” I say, getting myself under control. “I’ve been checked and haven’t been with anyone since then.”
“Well, okay,” she says, pleased. But then narrows her eyes. “And you’re all right with foregoing the condom?”
Am I okay with it?
I fist my hands and press them into the couch to keep from hauling her onto my lap and simply taking. “More than okay. In the spirit of honesty, I’ve never gone without. It’s a matter of trust too.”
“Because someone might not be honest about protection.”
“It happens.” The first lecture my dad hammered into me with “the talk” was that I needed to protect myself as well as any partner I might have.
Pen rests her hand on my thigh. “And you’re willing to take that risk with me?”
“Penelope, there is no risk with you.”
Her smile is shy but glowing.
“This means something to me too,” I tell her. Because she needs to know how safe she is with me.
She tightens her grip on my thigh. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
Simple words. They punch into me with the force of a linebacker.
“Come here,” I whisper, gathering her up in my arms and rising.
She holds on tight, as I shut off the fire and kill the lights with my free hand. “Where are we going?”
“Bedroom.” I kiss the plump of her cheek. “We’re going to need a lot of room to maneuver. And your first time isn’t going to be on a couch.”
She’s left the lamp on her bedside table lit. I set her on the bed in the circle of that glow, then close the drapes and turnon another lamp. I want to see everything, and I’m guessing my expression says as much because she arches a brow and gives me a knowing look. Grinning, I toe off my shoes, then reach for her house slippers, tossing them out of the way. Her skirt goes next. I’m gentle as I can be, drawing it down her legs to bare them. I love her legs. She reminds me of those vintage pinup posters her roommate, Sarah, had on her walls.
“You’re just going to strip us,” Pen asks, amused.
“Not yet.” I climb on the bed, resting my back against the headboard, and haul her onto my lap, enjoying the way she yelps and laughs. “We get naked too soon and it’s all over.”
“Oh, really?” She smiles at me, setting her hands on my chest. The touch is a bit shy but also proprietary. After waiting for so long for those touches, my body all but strains toward her.
This isn’t some quick hookup to scratch a horny itch. This is Penelope. Every time she puts her hands or mouth on me I fucking melt. Imagine that.
“Why are you smiling,” she asks softly.
“I got you on my lap.”
She laughs. Then tugs my shirt. “I get the ‘not yet naked’ thing. But... take this off. I want to see you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I reach behind me, grab the collar, and yank the offending shirt away. It flies to the corner of the room.
“Oh, my.” Her expression turns covetous.
Soft hands slide over my chest, along my arms. I clutch her hips and let her play, shivering with each pass.
