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“What’s the point?”

One hand slides around and dips between my thighs. The back of his finger runs over my pussy and up to my clit, over my shorts. His lids fall. I can’t tear my eyes from his face, entranced by the way he’s so zeroed in.

“I think we’re at the point where you can be naked,” he says.

I don’t speak. He curls his fingers around my waistband, slowly, I think to give me time to say no. Then, he pulls them down my thighs and works my shirt off. It’s vulnerable, being fully naked in his kitchen, my ass on his countertop. It’s also incredibly arousing, especially while he’s still clothed. Gently, he presses me back to my elbows and spreads my thighs apart.

“Goddamn,” he says.

I swallow. Nobody has ever looked at me this way. With two fingers, he explores my pussy like he’s afraid he’ll hurt me. So gently, with dedicated interest. It’s an oddly arousing experience. More vulnerable than I’ve ever been with anyone—including him.

“You look really good naked,” he says finally.

“Spoken like a man.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You always have your guard up. When you’re naked, you let it fall a little bit.”

He’s not wrong. It’s been a long time since I haven’t used a blasé attitude and shoving down my feelings as armor. Maybe my whole life, since Mom and Dad split, since I grew up certain that I was the biggest burden on my sister, but not knowing what to do about it. Everywhere I look, it’s a perfect painting, and then there’s me, like a monster on the sidelines. Watching normal people do normal things. So yes, he’s right. My walls are always up, and that’s just how it is.

It’s better than being hurt.

He dips his head. I put my palm on his forehead.

“Don’t lick that.”

He looks up. “Why?”

“Because you need to feed me first. Then, you may have dessert.”

He sighs, planting his hands on either side of my body. He’s so grumpy this evening, especially for a man who just got laid. That bothers me, as someone who’s good at making other people happy. How hard do I have to fuck him to get him to relax? Probably all night. Poor me.

He pulls back. I sit up, but don’t reach for my clothes.

“You like your eggs fried or scrambled?” He takes the sausages out and piles them on a plate, reaching for a carton of eggs.

“Scrambled. With cheese.”

“Coming right up, princess.”

I know he’s trying to push my buttons, but deep down, I love it. I watch him plate the food, thinking hard. Maybe I can get him to call me princess when his head is between my thighs later. I want to hear it with his tongue on my pussy and my fingers tangled in his hair.

“Let’s eat on the porch,” he says.

I follow him upstairs and through a lounge area with an inset living space, which is the first I’ve ever seen outside of film. The entire far wall is glass, looking out over a flat patio with more glass for walls. At the center is a clear blue pool. He holds open the door, and I hesitate.

“I’m naked,” I say.

“Nobody will see you. I promise.”

The thought of him seeing me naked, in the dwindling sunlight, makes my emotions run in two different directions. Embarrassed and aroused. I look good, but I’ve never been this exposed before. So I go outside, knowing he’s looking at my naked ass go by. The door slams, and he sets the food on the ground at the edge of the pool. I sink down, dipping my legs into the water. He takes off his sweats, and surprisingly, he’s wearing boxer briefs underneath. Albeit very thin ones. He sits beside me and pushes my plate closer.

“Eat.”

I do, picking up a sausage and biting the end. Overhead, the sky is a deep blue, and everything smells faintly of salt. I inhale, taking a beat to let my pattering heart slow. When I glance over, he’s almost done.

“Uh, maybe slow down there.”

He puts the plate down. “Got a workout in. Need to fuel up for another.”