Page 11 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“For a spontaneous water balloon fight?”

Bronson exhales hard through his nose. “Jordan.”

“I’m sorry.” I cover my face with my hands. “This is stupid. Is this stupid? Maybe we should just forget about it.”

I lie back, unmoving, barely even breathing, as I wait for Bronson to leave the bed.

“Jordan,” he says.

Slowly, I uncover my eyes and look at him.

“Do you want to do this?” he asks, calm and strong.

I think about it. I take a moment to really think about it. There are dozens of reasons not to do this, and only one good reason to do it.

It’ll be fun.

Chrissy would be so proud.

“Yes?” I answer.

“That’s not consent.”

“Yes!” I rephrase. “I would like to do this now, please.”

Bronson shifts forward, balancing over me on his arms as he leans in for another kiss.

Then another.

And another.

Each time, he moves a little closer. Soon, our bodies lie flush together, our legs tangled, his hands on my body while I struggle to figure out what to do with mine.

“What do you like?” he asks between long kisses.

“What do you mean?” I ask, burning up.

“In bed,” he says. “What do you like?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Just do what you want, and I’ll?—”

He planks up and stares at me.

“I don’t know!” I say again, my cheeks catching fire. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”

He nods, aware of my dating history, but he doesn’t move, silently urging me to think it over and answer the question.

“I liked it when you kissed my neck,” I say after a minute.

Bronson lowers down, his mouth targeting my neck like before. I tremble, the ticklish sensation traveling down my spine, awakening all sorts of throbs.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “That’s good.”

“What else?” he asks, his tongue teasing my earlobe. “Give me a position.”

Oh, dear.

“Uh...” I touch his chest, finding the courage not to pull away again as his ab muscles flex beneath my fingers. “Missionary, I guess,” I say. “But I’m open to others as long as they aren’t too complicated. And I’ve never come from oral, so don’t even try.”

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