Page 63 of Champagne Fizz

I look up and his blue eyes are full of desire. “When would we—?”

He nods.

“So, you want to—?”

“Yes, Kendall,” he says with a tightness in his jaw. He looks at me hard, like I ought to know the effect I have on men.

On him.

I suck in air through my teeth, trying to keep my breath from going ragged.

Lady Lada is on fire. This isn’t fantasizing or hyperbole. I’m going to have sex with—

Champagne fizz!

Drink. Yup, I start drinking lots of it.

“How do you want this?” Simon asks, looking at me seriously. “Do you need rose petals and music and something special? Or is this the kind of thing …” He worries his lip as his brain starts ticking through logistics. “Is this something we’ll have to work up to, considering …”

He nods to my body and I flush. Not because he knows how sensitive I am, but because I’m suddenly thinking about the possibility of us slowly rounding the bases, rather than rushing through them in one mad dash for a homerun.

I’d been thinking one night.

One time.

Get it done. Get him out of my system.

But the truth of the matter is this might not be that simple. It will probably take time to build up my stamina, so I can actuallygetto the finish line.

“I, uh, um …” I gulp down my remaining champagne. “I hadn’t thought through the ins and outs of—”

He smiles and my neck flushes.

“Freudian slip?” he asks.

Did I really just say ins and outs in a conversation about taking my virginity?

“Inevitable, right?” I blush.

“Probably.”

“Logistics,” I say, trying to get us back on task. “I hadn’t considered how, exactly, we would … other than the traditional methods.”

“Ins and outs?” He smiles.

I flush, and Simon’s eyes dart to the low neckline of my tank top to where my skin and my shirt are almost the same color.

“Yes, I suppose the good ‘ol pina-goes-in-your-lada option,” I joke.

Simon’s cheek feathers at the mention of Mason’s drink, probably never imaging Mason’s naughty titles would help him navigate this kind of situation.

“Okay, well there should be rules,” he says.

“Rules? Like … ?”

“Well, for example,” Simon rubs a hand against the back of his neck, “if things are getting to be too much for you, too fast, too hot, too intense—”

The skin where my knees and thighs touch is sweating.

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