I’m silent for a moment, long enough for Graham to lean back, searching for my face, prompting me to sit up.
I do, sliding off his lap and curling up on the couch cushion beside him. His gaze follows me, the question still there.
“Because … I don’t know, you were expecting to have sex tonight, and now you’re not,” I say, avoiding his eyes.
He grins at this, to my surprise. “Sex is only fun when both people are into it.”
I shrug. “Yeah, but—”
“And you can always say no. Change your mind. At any time,” he interrupts me, his expression hardening. “I’m serious, Delilah, if any guy ever pressures you to do anything you don’t want to, I want you to kick him in the balls. Maybe we should add that to our lesson itinerary.”
This pulls a giggle from me, and Graham’s face softens. We’re silent for a moment, the embarrassment lessening.
“How about we just take things slow?” Graham suggests after a moment. “We meet up, we do what you feel comfortable with, and if and when it happens, it happens.”
Part of me wants to resist, to insist that I can be a big girl, get over my shit, and just do this. But another part feels something warm and soft and comforting. Something that feels an awful lot like relief and … safety?
I guess I’d always assumed that sex would be this big, scary thing, and so I’d ignored my fears leading up to today. But when Graham puts it like that, laid out all calm, no pressure, it’s shocking to me that having sex for the first time suddenly feels … well, not terrifying, at least.
“Okay,” I agree, and the word feels good.
“Okay,” he repeats with a smile.
And I’d never truly understood what it was about Graham that attracted so many women over all these years. That made him the popular bachelor he is. But I think I get it now.
Chapter ten
Graham
It’s been three days, and all I can think about is Delilah fucking Slater. My best friend’s little sister. The girl who, up until about a week ago, I’d never looked twice at. Well, maybetwice—but certainly not more than that.
And now all I can think about are despicably filthy, dirty things involving every inch of her of her body—under me, on top of me.
Jesus Christ, I need a shower. And it’s not only because I just got home from working a full day at the ranch. I toss my hat on the hook by the front door, kick off my boots, and beeline to the bathroom.
I turn the shower on full blast and twist it to the coldest setting. And then I force myself in. I gasp at the discomfort but grit my teeth and let it wash over me. Yeah, that helps a bit. A bit.
I can’t believe I kissed her.
I kissed Harrison’s little sister.
And what’s worse is that I really want to do it again. Plus other things. Lots of other things.
And there goes this cold shower going to waste.
This whole situation is really, really wrong, and I know that. I knew that when Delilah suggested it, and I know it now. It doesn’t stop the lizard part of my brain screaming for one thing only. I huff out a sigh through my nose, reaching down to grip my already hard cock between my fist and pumping.
It takes me an embarrassingly short amount of time to come. All it took was imagining those goddamn noises she made the other day, and there we go. My chest heaving, I finish my shower, finally able to think about literally anything else.
I pull on new clothes and exit the bathroom. Just in time to almost collide with Harrison in the hallway.
“Oh hey, didn’t know you were home,” Harrison says, sidestepping me.
“Yeah, just got here,” I mumble, walking past.
“You seen Delilah?”
I halt in my tracks, panic washing through me. “What? No! Why would I see Delilah?” I turn to look back at him.
