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“You can’t be serious?” he asks, shock in his tone.

“Deadly,” I say, taking another sip of my wine.

He scratches at his temple, and I continue to sip on my wine. God, I’m gonna need another glass in a second.

“Okay, so what got you off? What did you like?”

“I wouldn’t know. I never did,” I admit quietly, my cheeks warming with embarrassment.

“Never what?”

“Finished, reached the finish line, got the grand finale.”

“Are you telling me you’ve never had an orgasm?” he says, eyes wide, as if I am saying the most unhinged thing.

‘No, well yes, I think so. I have alone, I think, but…” I stumble over my words. This feels so weird to talk to him about in such a casual way. I don’t want him thinking of me as some inexperienced juvenile, but that’s how I feel. His hands land on my thigh, and the contact has me flinching. Not with fear, but with an unexpected surge of desire for this man. I want to do this with him, but I’m scared he doesn’t want me in the same way, and he’s only doing this out of obligation to help a friend out. I place my wine glass on the coffee table in front of me and I begin snapping the elastic on my wrist as the awkward silence falls between us. He reaches for my wrist, and I stop. My band snapping is replaced with the pad of his thumb, rubbing soothing circles over the red flesh, and with every stroke, I feel myself relax a little.

“Gabriella, you would know if you had one or not. It’s a yes or no answer,” he says softly.

“Yes, yes, I have,” I say quickly, trying to appear more confident than I really feel.

He stands up, and I’m convinced this is it, he’s regretting what he offered and he’s leaving. But he begins removing his jacket, unhooking the cuffs on his dress shirt, and rolling up his sleeves, revealing the intricate artwork on his forearms.

“W-what are you doing?” I lift the wine glass and go to take another sip of my wine, but he plucks it from my hand, draining the glass and placing it back down on the coffee table. He kneels down in front of me and my breath catches in my throat.

“Giving you an orgasm, one that won’t have you questioning if it is one or not.” He says it so casually, as if he’s offering me coffee and a bagel.

“R-right now?” I stutter.

“Right now,” he repeats. “If that’s what you want?” I sit there, too stunned to speak.

“Gabriella, if this is going to work, I need you to use your words. I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want this, just say, and we’ll stop.”

My hand moves to cover his that’s placed on my knee, and I give it a squeeze. Brad makes me feel safe. Maybe this is what I need to do to get over this fear I have. I know he would never want more than whatever this is, and as long as I keep that in mind, this could work. It’s just a friend helping out another friend. I can get a grip on my feelings towards him.

“I want this,” I say, my throat feeling drier than a Graham cracker.

He gives me a nod in understanding, places his other hand on my other knee, and widens my legs. He moves in a little closer, bringing his mouth to my ear, and whispers, “I’m about to make you feel so good, Mia Cara.” His words have my insides quivering. I love when he calls me that. Holy hell, I’m not going to last here.

His mouth presses against my neck and moves to a sensitive spot on my collarbone I didn’t know was there, I flinch and giggle, and he moves back to look at me.

“Sorry,” I say shyly. “It tickles.”

He moves back to where he was and presses his mouth to the same spot, and I giggle again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m just nervous. You’re you, and I’m me, and this is…”

“I know, you just need to get out of your head, baby girl. Relax.” His use of ‘baby girl’ has heat flooding to my core.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I am in my head. The brain is such a powerful thing. Did you know that when we die, the brain still lives for like seven minutes and replays all your best moments?”

“Fascinating,” he says, amusement in his tone and a slight grin on his face.

“Isn’t it? It plays them like a movie, all your favorite moments, the people you love, all the important moments and people in your life as you cross over. The best parts of your life literally flash before your eyes. Isn’t that amazing? And—”

My rambling is cut off by his index finger pressing against my lips. “Baby girl, I’m trying to get you off here, and you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” I mouth.