Forty-Eight

He held my gaze and slowly smiled. “You seem sure enough about this.” Sliding one hand down my right arm, he grasped my hand. “Let’s go back to bed though.” Saying that much and indulging in a soft kiss, he led me back to the bedroom. He came to a stop next to the bed, turned to face me and took both my hands in his.

I gave him a questioning look. “You don’t have to treat me like one of your women.”

“What? This?” He raised our hands to ask. “It’s not that I am trying to be really gentle or anything. It’s… Despite all my experience and how eager I am now,” he placed my hands on his chest and smiled sheepishly. “I feel like such a boy.”

His heart was pounding against my palms.

I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his neck. “When was the last time that you dated someone for real?”

“Towards the beginning of college. Why are you asking me that now?”

I shrugged. “Because I wanted to know.” Then I kissed him. “Because this is… amu