"Sex," I said, exasperated. "Which is where I assumeyouassumed my kiss was going to lead."
"I'm offended," he sniffed. "I assumedyou'dwant it to lead to sex."
I rolled my eyes. "I decided a long time ago it isn't for me."
"Hm." He pursed his lips, fiddling with the rolled-up cuff on his elbow. "Is that because you're asexual or because a blundering first attempt gave you nightmares?"
I wasn't sure I could take much more embarrassment for one day. The shock of going from terrified for my life to deliriously aroused and then immediately into head-burying shame was a bit much, even for me. "I’m not asexual, but I think we should just forget I did that," I managed to get out. "The kiss thing."
Benjamin looked completely unaffected by that suggestion. He closed the distance between us, and even with him still wearing wet clothing, the heat from his body radiated into mine deliciously. "I think, if you enjoyed that kiss, we should repeat it."
Oh, that was tempting. I tilted my head back, taking in the sharp cut of his jaw and the soft, encouraging smile on his lips. I felt so safe with this man. It was like friendship, but something more. Something deeper and more reliable. "I think you like to tease me," I whispered. "That's all."
"Oh, I do," he whispered back, bending down and hovering his lips along my jaw. My skin tingled in response. "You have no idea how I'd like to tease you, Evie."
A thrill shivered from my breasts to my squeezed legs, pulsing at my center. That joke, I could understand. And a part of me desperately wanted to test his claim. I steadied myself against his hard chest, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to push him away or draw him closer. "It's not that I don't like you, Benjamin."
He chuckled low and deep in his chest. "I know you like me, Evie."
"But I really don't think sex is… my thing," I said lamely. I pulled away enough to catch his eyes. "Kissing you was nice, though."
He squinted one eye. "Tell me about your first lover."
I stretched my mouth. "I'd rather not."
He took my hand in his suddenly, leading me to the stairs. "Tell me while I get changed. I'm not coming onto you. Trust me, you'd know if I was."
If this was himnotcoming onto me then I despaired at my ability to withstand him trying. "Benjamin." It was a half-hearted protest at best. And he knew it.
He led me down the stairs and to where he kept the temporary, pop-up closet where he'd hung his clothing in the living room. Completely unabashed, he began unbuttoning his shirt. "Tell me, Evie. I won't judge. I'm just curious."
I groaned, flopping onto my back on the couch and draping my arm over my eyes. "There's nothing to tell. I experimented alittle in college. I was homeschooled through high school, I think you know that."
"Absolutely diabolical," he responded.
"Yes, well, I liked it. Anyway, I did… dabble… in college." I pressed my arm harder against my eyes. I could hear Benjamin's clothing rustling and then slopping to the ground as he changed. "It wasn't anything I care to remember. The kissing was okay, like I said. Not as good as yours—maybe experience does count for something there."
"I'm honored," he said with mock solemnity.
I smiled. "Anyway, I did eventually have sex with someone. Trent. He was nice—bought me things and took me on dates. But when we had sex, it just wasn't good."
"What, so you had one bad experience and decided that was enough for you?" Benjamin asked incredulously.
I looked up, affronted. He was in his boxers, chest completely bare and had his eyebrow popped. I shoved my arm back over my eyes. "Twice, thank you. I thought you weren't judging."
"I'm not, I'm not," he relented. "What was bad about it?"
"You're not going to reform me, you know," I said somewhat primly. "I don't think he… Well, when we tried, he kind of… Jesus, I can't just tell you these things. We barely know each other."
The couch dipped, and suddenly I felt him around me. He balanced his hands on either side of me, holding his weight over my supine body and surrounding me with his warmth. Whatever deodorant or soap he used, it was musky and masculine, and if "suave" had a smell, I imagined that was it. I peeked an eye open. He wore a white T-shirt and was giving me an expression that was almost sympathetic. "Alright, so he was a pretty bad lay. Didn't get you there?"
"He did not," I admitted. "And worse, I'm not sure he finished, either. It was very… wet. And sloppy." I shuddered. "Really, I don't think sex is my thing."
He cracked a grin, lifting one side of his face. "Ah, Evelyn. I'm so relieved to hear it."
I gave him a suspicious frown. "Why?"
"Because now, I get to prove you wrong." He lifted one hand, and with his pointer finger, he trailed a line from my throat to my cleavage. "Let me ask you this first—do I make you uncomfortable when I touch you?"
