“Good. Just making sure you’re not regretting it. Like I have bad breath or something.”
Again, he shakes his head. “You taste like coconuts.”
“That’s my lip balm.”
“I like it.”
“You want to kiss me again, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he says. “Giving you a chance to escape.”
I shrug. “Nothing to run away from. We’re just two hot people making out, and that’s it, right?¨
“You think I’m hot?”
“You did hear me say that before, right? You need me to say it again?”
I run my hand over the broad plane of his chest, over the soft shirt that covers all that hardness.
“Keep touching me like that, and I’m going to want more than a kiss. Just warning you.”
“You want me to stop?” I run my hand down to his stomach, which is pleasingly soft. Something to grab on to. I like it. He’s strong but not ripped everywhere, like gym muscles. He’s built like half-dad, half-warrior. And I’ve never felt this turned on by any man’s body.
“No, you should definitely keep touching me,” he says.
Foster descends on me again and presses a deeper kiss to my mouth, the tip of his tongue licking over my bottom lip.
I open to receive his tongue, and he slips it in, tasting me. Foster tastes even better than I expected, like a combination of my lip balm and those sweetheart candies.
“You’ve been snacking on the party favors.”
Foster laughs against my mouth as he keeps kissing me, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
“Had to keep my energy up.”
I laugh as my feet leave the floor. Foster’s lifting me up so abruptly that I have no choice but to steady myself by wrapping my legs around his hips. No other choice. Must climb man like tree.
“Hi,” he says, sweetly rubbing our noses together.
“What are you doing?” I ask, fucking him with my eyes.
“Testing to see how we fit together.”
My thighs give a small squeeze, and his face darkens. “And the test results say…?”
“Hypothesis is supported. You fit perfectly.”
“Nerd.”
Foster laughs and squeezes both my buttocks, pulling me tighter against him. I can feel his hard erection pressing between my legs, through his jeans and through my workout pants.
I circle my arms around his shoulders, stroking my fingers through his sandy hair, cropped short up the back. It’s slightly tousled on top and wavy. Up close, hints of strawberry come through, accented by the warm lighting in the room. Yes, there’s red in his hair and beard that I hadn’t noticed before. And he has tiny freckles that make him all the more endearing.
The sweet behavior and the lust in his eyes do not compute with the Foster I thought I knew. He doesn’t fit into the box I had him in until tonight.
One thing I know for sure is that I enjoy touching him. I like kissing him. I delight in Foster holding me up against his body like I weigh nothing. His beard, skin, muscles -- even every hair on his head -- is a new and exciting tactile story that I need to read and lodge into my memory.
I always thought he was such a prickly pear, but he’s got such a soft center. And I’m so happy he showed it to me.
