TWENTY-ONE

I had watched a lot of movies with different depictions and descriptions of what heaven looked and felt like. Some said it was a long, endless path of gold. Others said it was nothing but white with angels and your loved ones all around you.

Now, I believed everyone had a different experience of heaven. My heaven was far different from white clouds and golden gates.

My heaven was the coolness of my being the minute Conrad kissed me. It was the little sounds of approval he made whenever I did something right, like lightly tugging at his hair and pulling him closer.

The heat within my bones was replaced by the rush of immense pleasure flowing through my veins in response to him.

This was my heaven.

“Athena,” he gasped as our lips finally disconnected. “We can’t go any further. I don’t want you doing things you’ll regret later.”

“I won’t regret a thing, Conrad,” I assured, but he wasn’t convinced.

“When you’re ready. For now, I want you to tell me everything Deimos did to you in f