Page 56 of Bi-Partisan

“We should clean up first,” he says. When I grumble in protest, he chuckles and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Go head in. I’ll deal with leftovers and meet you in there.”

I nod, and after he gives me another quick kiss, this time to my cheek, drag myself away to my bedroom.

I wasn’t expecting anyone over, so my bed isn’t made and there’s a pile of not quite clean but also not dirty clothes on the chair in the corner. The room is otherwise relatively clean, though. Molly is curled up on one of the pillows as usual, having long won the war of whether she’s allowed to sleep on the sheets. But I definitely don’t want her on the sheets, or in the room at all, once Jamie gets in here, so I scoop her up and give her a snuggle in an attempt to prevent her from sensing she’s about to be kicked out. It fails, of course, because when I pad back into the living room to set her on the cat tree, she glares at me.

“Don’t glare at me,” I say, a little indignant. “I don’t want you watching like a creepy little voyeur.”

“Are you talking to your cat?”

I turn to find him by the coffee table, turning off the TV.

“Yes?” I feel my cheeks heat a little at being caught.

But he just grins. “Cute. Now come on,” he says as he rounds the table to take my hand and lead me back to the bedroom.

The moment we cross the threshold, he turns and pulls me into him. His fingers dip under my sweater, lightly trailing across my skin. “How do you want to do this?”

“However you want to. I know last time I took the lead, but now that I know I’m the first guy you’ve been with—”

“Darlin’, I liked that you took charge. A lot,” he says with emphasis.

The corner of my mouth lifts in a small smirk. “Yeah, I know.”

“Then how do you want to do this?” he asks again. “I want to make you feel good.”

Heat licks up my spine, and I’m tempted to crush my lips against his and tell him exactly how good he is. But I hold my ground, telling him gently, “I promise whatever you want or feel comfortable doing, I will enjoy it. So I want you to take the lead this time. Tell me what you want.”

“Okay,” he whispers, a little hesitant.

His forehead comes to rest against mine, and I can tell he’s working up the courage to voice whatever it is he wants. I let him take his time, though, simply enjoying the feeling of him idly tracing shapes on my skin.

After a moment, he takes a deep breath, as if to steel his nerves. “Can I fuck you?”

Oh.

That is not what I expected him to say, but arousal immediately pools in my core all the same. My surprise must be written all over my face, though, because he immediately starts to backpedal.

“Or not, if you don’t—you know. You could also fuck me. Obviously, I’ve never done either, so I don’t know for sure, but I’m pretty sure I’m good either way. Or we can do something else, if you aren’t into penetration at all,” he says, all in a rush.

“Baby, breathe.” I rest my hand on his cheek to interrupt his panic.

He inhales sharply.

“Any of that sounds good to me.” I brush my thumb along his cheekbone. “But tonight, I want the first thing you said. I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes darken, then it’s like a switch flips, and his lips are crashing against mine. I yield to him immediately, opening my mouth under his as he pushes me back toward the bed. We collapse onto it sideways, but he seems too intent on kissing me to bother adjusting our position. And I want this too much to care.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much in my life. I’m dizzy, almost drunk with it. And the single glass of wine I drank was nearly three hours ago, so this is all him. My skin burns as his hands push my sweater up my torso. When his lips disappear from mine to pull it over my head, an almost desperate whine falls from my lips.

He hovers above me for a moment, searching my face with a look of almost wonder. “Fuck, you’re really something else, you know that?”

I don’t trust myself to use words at the moment, so instead I grasp at his shirt, yanking it up over his head. My palms run down his back, then I press him closer to me, relishing in the way his skin feels against mine. His face drops to my neck, and I can’t help letting out a small moan as his teeth scrape against my skin.

God, I missed this.

“Me, too, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Shit, did I say that out loud? Embarrassment starts to surge up through me, until I process what he said—that he missed this too. My stomach flutters, and I shove my hands into his hair to drag his lips back to mine.

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