Promise Me

She arches her eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” I put half the cookie back on the plate and then lean against the counter and face her. “For starters, I like the way you kiss.”

Victory is mine. Color stains her cheeks, but she seems to own it more easily now. “The kissing must be a natural talent, because I can promise you I have way more practice baking.”

My dick twitches thinking about the extent of those natural talents, and the practice I’m ready to give 100 percent to, but not yet. I cover the cookies with the foil. “I’m going to hide these from my roommates, otherwise I’m liable to get none, and then we’ll start on the culinary masterpiece I slaved over.”

“You slaved over dinner?”

“Don’t even get me started. I dialed the caterer. I explained the occasion. I pored over an endless menu of options and made tough decisions like which two sides should accompany the entree.” I stow the cookies away in a bottom drawer underneath a clean dishtowel, and then pull a large bottle of water and a couple platters out of the fridge. She takes the water from me before I lead the way out to the patio. “Then I had to supervise the setup by diligently standing aside and staying out of their way. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Her lips quirk as she puts the water on the table and settles into the sectional. I take the spot beside her and feel my mouth stretch into an answering smile. She arranges her legs under her, folds her hands in her lap, and eyes me. “Exactly how did you explain this occasion?”

“You know”—I shrug, deliberately casual—“the standard, deflower-the-beautiful-virgin-next-door dinner.”

She chokes out a laugh before clearing her throat. “Do they list that one between corporate event and family reunion?” Her hand hovers over her upper lip to hide her grin.

“Yep. Lucky number seven.”

“So I assume we’re having…a hard sausage sampler?”

“Please. I would never be so obvious. I believe the theme of tonight’s menu is Things You’ve Never Tried Before.” I pick up the bottle of water and pour her a glass. No booze tonight. I don’t need it. Don’t want it.

She raises an eyebrow and glances at the appetizer tray. “I hate to break it to you, but I’ve had berries, bread, and cheese before.”

“Fine.” I spread one of the cheeses on a slice of bread, top it with a raspberry, and hand it to her. “What haven’t you had before?”

“Um…frog legs,” she says around a bite. “And sex. But I’ve never much wanted to try frog legs.”

“Got it. No on frog legs, yes on sex.” Jesus, I like this girl. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep to my side of the sectional while we eat.

“That would be my preference.”

“Noted.” I pick up a strawberry from the tray, hold it out to her, and enjoy the feel of her soft lips against my fingers as she closes her mouth around it. “Let’s talk about that.”

She swallows. “All right.”

“I was thinking we should drill down on the act—so to speak. What have you done? How far have you gone? What did you like? What didn’t you like?”

Another strawberry disappears between her vanilla-flavored lips. I fight an urge to chase it with my tongue because I want to hear what she says. I want to know. I don’t want to move too fast or make another misstep. Mostly, I don’t want to cause her any pain.

“What have you done?” She rests her head on the cushion and looks over at me. “How far have you gone?”

Shit. I really hadn’t planned on getting into a game of “I Never” with her. When it comes to sex, there’s very little I’ve never done, but that fact suddenly strikes me as sad and sordid. “I want to make it good for you, Kendall. That’s why I ask.”

Her smile returns, just a bit challenging. “And I want to make it good for you. It’s been four years since I’ve done anything sexual with a guy. But before that, Mason and I did everything except have intercourse. I’m not without skills, they’re just rusty.”

Mention of Mason reminds me of how important tonight is. “I don’t want to hurt you.” There. I said it. So much for finesse.

“I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Because…?” I’ve never had a candid conversation like this with a girl before, but it’s necessary. I won’t cross any line she doesn’t want to cross.

The color rises in her cheeks, but she returns my stare straight on. “Because I didn’t hurt myself the other day when I was thinking about you and taking care of business solo-style.”

“Only once? That’s it? I must be in the hundreds by now, starting with the night we met.”

“You passed out the night you met me.”