I uncurl my legs slowly and stand up. Dominic’s still leaning back on his sofa, watching me intently.
I move towards him. He continues to watch me, a small muscle in his jaw working but otherwise immobile.
Partly amazed at myself – I don’t think I’ve ever put myself out there like this before with anyone I wasn’t already in a relationship with, for fear of rejection – and partly absolutely certain that there’s no other course of action right now that I could possibly take, I climb slowly and carefully onto Dominic’s lap, straddling him. His eyes are fixed on me the entire time, and he’s breathing a little harder.
‘Flavia,’ he says.
‘Dominic.’ I kind of like that we have this thing that we exchange names.
‘I…’ He groans as I shift a little against him. He’sdefinitelyresponding to that.
I place my hands on his shoulders and then run them round the back of his neck.
‘You?’ I ask.
‘Are you sure this is wise?’
I let go of his neck immediately, suddenly horrified at myself. Consent should obviously go both ways. Fuck. What was I thinking? Just throwing myself at him like that. Making it almost impossible for him to say no. How utterly stupid of me. In the same way thatheshouldn’t make things uncomfortable for me,Ishouldn’t make them uncomfortable forhim.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, beginning to clamber off, almost falling onto the floor in my haste.
He grasps my wrist.
‘Don’t apologise,’ he says hoarsely. ‘Please don’t think that I don’t – really quite desperately – want this.’
‘Really?’ My voice has gone pathetically small from the humiliation of rejection.
‘Of course I do.’
I’m not meeting his eye now.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he continues. ‘And funny. And kind. And did I mention incredibly sexy? Anyone whowouldn’twant…this… with you is frankly crazy.’
My eyes fly back to his face, to see that he’s still gazing at me with that intensity he was showing before, but now there’s also concern in his expression.
‘I’m sorry,’ I repeat. ‘I shouldn’t have put you in this position.’
‘Do. Not. Apologise,’ he almost growls. And then he lifts me so that I’m back on his lap. Hands on my hips, he adjusts me so that I’m against him, and then he leans his head up to meet mine and brushes his lips against mine.
I think I moan a little, I’m not sure, and then he mutters something unintelligible deep in his throat, before sliding one arm round my waist and pushing his other hand into my hair and kissing me hard, urgently, passionately.
My hands are gripping his shoulders, and his are holding me tight against him, and I can’t tell where my heartbeat ends and his begins, but I do know that all my senses, all my nerve ends, are on fire.
When he pulls his head away, I’m bereft.
I move to kiss him – emboldened again – but he shakes his head.
‘We shouldn’t,’ he says. ‘Mistake. That’s what I meant to say before. That weshouldn’t, not that I don’t want to. Because I think you can tell that I really,reallywant to.’
‘We already have kissed,’ I point out, feeling like suddenly it’s me who’s the rational voice of sanity, not him. I don’t care why he thinks it’s a mistake, I just want to point out that if itisa mistake, we’ve already just made it, so we might as well capitalise on it. ‘So, really, it won’t make any difference if we kiss a little more. Like… it’s kissing atallthat’s the big thing. Once we’ve kissed once, it really doesn’t matter if we kiss for a bit longer.’ I lean towards him and nip his lower lip very gently with my teeth and he groans, hesitates for a moment, and then very suddenly uses his hands on my hips again to adjust mehardon his lap, before pulling me in again with one hand to kiss me properly again.
We kiss and kiss and kiss. It’s amazing.
But it isn’t enough. I love feeling the hard planes of Dominic’s chest through the fabric of his T-shirt but I want to feel his skin against my hands, feel even more connection. I push my hands up under his T-shirt and he groans.
‘Maybe a mistake,’ he says again. ‘I don’t think mutual no-strings really exists.’
‘Mmm,’ I say. ‘It totallycanexist.’
