“The foreplay can go on and on, but if you’re not sexually attracted to your partner, then all the foreplay in the world won’t matter. That’s kissing to seduce, which we’re pretty much immune to without something extra to help us get where an allo partner already is.”
“Kissing to seduce,” she repeats. “Yeah, that sounds like Steven.No wonder it didn’t work out between us. What are some other variants?”
“There’s kissing to greet, which can be both romantic and platonic. Simple, chaste, used to say hello and goodbye,” I explain. “There’s what I think you’re after, which is kissing to enchant. You put everything you feel for the other person into it, and the result is something like Mia Thermopolis’s iconic leg pop. There’s kissing to explore—”
“Explore?”
“When you’re not quite surehowyou feel for the other person or kissing in general, so you have to do some research.” Her expression turns skeptical. “It’s a micro-trope, and a pretty damn good one.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“When you’ve fantasized about kissing someone, and I can’t emphasize enough that I don’t need to knowwhoyou’re imagining in this scenario, what are the aspects you like about it? How does it make you feel?”
“I don’t know.” Her nose scrunches. “I guess I like feeling wanted by someone, you know? Not sexually, per se. Justwanted. And those little touches in addition to the kissing.”
“Which touches specifically?”
Instead of telling me, she places a hand against my neck. Goose bumps erupt across my skin as her thumb brushes my jawline. I shut my eyes, not trusting that they won’t give away everything I’m feeling. If the eyes truly are the windows to the soul, I don’t need Leti poking around in there. Not any more than she already is.
“What are you doing?”
“Was that not okay?” Panic bleeds through her voice, but I place my hand over hers before she can pull her touch away. “This felt like the easiest way to show you what I meant, but now—”
“Don’t overthink this,” I say. “You surprised me. That’s all.”
My eyes are still shut, but I feel when her forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling. Her other hand rests against my chest where my heart is racing. Forget the eyes, it’s the organ beating a mile a minute beneath my rib cage that’s the real dead giveaway here.
“When was the last time you kissed someone?”
My eyes pop open, and her face fills my vision. God, she’s so pretty. A pink blush has reddened her cheeks—they’re nearly the same color as her lips. There couldn’t possibly be a worse time for her to ask me that question. Not when she’s so close, her breath is warming my skin. A few inches closer, and our lips would brush.
“Do we have to talk about this right now?”
“When else would we?”
“When you’re not trying to kill me.” My hand settles against the back of her neck before gathering up her hair in my fingers. After the gentlest of tugs, she’s gasping against my mouth. For all the times I’ve thought, dreamed, fantasized about it, I’ve never wanted to kiss Leticia more than right now. It would be so easy too. Just an inch or two of space to invade before my lips seal over hers, and she’s mine. I promised myself I wouldn’t let another chance go by without kissing her, didn’t I? Instead, her question has me hovering. “How’s that feel?”
“Good.” Her voice is breathy. “Really good.”
“Come here.” I pull her closer until she’s straddling my lap. Uncertainty shines in her eyes until I sit back against the couch, making room for her. Her knees cradle my waist, hands smoothing up my chest as she pushes herself inexplicably closer to me. “Still want to know the last time I kissed someone?”
She nods, a curtain of her dark hair tickling my arm.
“It was almost two years ago, before I introduced him to my family. That…was a colossal mistake.”
“What happened?”
“My dad.” My tone turns dry. “He made it clear how welcome I was in his house after that, which is to say not at all.”
“Julian.” Her thumb brushes my cheek in soothing strokes as she stares down at me, her eyes creased in concern. “I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” I tell her. “After I came out to my parents, he was content to ignore the part of me that liked men until I started dating one. That was the last straw for him, but my mom took the news surprisingly well. Now she has the rainbow flag emoji in her Facebook bio. I’ve tried telling her to at least add an “ally” next to it or people will thinkshe’squeer, but she’s awfully stubborn in her support of me.”
“I’m glad.” Her fingers sink into my hair, and I could sigh from how good it feels. “You deserve her unconditional support. I’m happy you have it.”
