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I drop my fork. “Liz—”

“I know.” She looks up at me. “I know I’ve said we need to go slow.”

I grab her hands. “I know. And I respect that.”

“But having you here,” she says, “eating dinner with me and chatting, I honestly don’t understand what I was afraid of. This is so natural and so comfortable. I should’ve invited you over ages ago. You go really well with Melanie’s ugly furniture—”

“Hey!”

She grins. “This—” She motions between her and me. “Us. It’s always been effortless. I’m sorry I’ve been putting breaks on things since day one. I... I didn’t believe I could genuinely be myself with someone the way I am around you. Just being me.”

Every fiber of my body is taut with barely suppressed need, but this has to be her choice. So I remain motionless, holding her gaze.

Liz comes around the kitchen island and stands between my legs. She puts her forearms on my shoulders and leans forward, her lips grazing my ear. “I think I’m done going slow,” she whispers, takes my earlobe between her teeth, and tugs.

“Oh, thank fuck,” I exhale with relief. I grab her by the waist and press her against me. Wrapping her tight in my arms, I find her mouth and finally finally kiss her the way I’ve been wanting to for months. She molds herself to me and hugs me around the neck as she eagerly opens up, her tongue flicking, seeking mine to deepen the kiss.

My hands roam her sides, digging into her softness, remembering the layout of her curves. Small mewling sounds leave her lips as she pulls me close.

“God, I want to see you naked,” she says as she starts tugging at my shirt. “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.”

“Same,” I say, licking the column of her neck. “Same.” My hands slide down to her ass, and I feel a surge of possessiveness as I grab two overflowing handfuls. She moans as I squeeze and squeeze.

“Have you been with anyone ... since you and I last slept together?” she asks, one of her hands working on my belt.

“No. Went on a few dates, didn’t even kiss any of them,” I say as I nibble on her jawline and the corner of her mouth. “You scrambled my brain.”

She pulls back from me a little. “Me either. I mean, I went out through the apps, but I just... None of it was like when I met you, you know?”

I nod. “Yeah, I know. I know exactly what you mean.” I reach around her head to unclasp her hair. When she shakes it and the locks spill over her shoulders, I feel it deep in my chest. “So fucking gorgeous,” I murmur as I bring a few strands to the front and bury my nose in them.

“I am also still on the implant, if that’s of interest.” She’s smiling, her hands making small circles on my pecs.

“It is extremely of interest,” I growl as I squeeze her ass with the one hand, the other cupping her jaw. “Especially since I didn’t bring any condoms.”

She grins as she scratches my beard, then pulls me back into a kiss, and I think we’re done talking for now.

I grab the hem of her top—I realize for a second I have no idea what she has on, but also don’t care—and yank the thing off. She’s in her bra and work slacks, her lips red and soft and panting, standing between my legs by the kitchen island.

I cup both her tits from below. The bra is pretty and black, but not too frilly. I feel like the first time we were together, excited to unwrap her. I bury my nose in her cleavage and she giggles.

“This will never get old,” I murmur into the soft white flesh of her breasts. “I live here now.”

She grabs my forearm and drags me to the bedroom. The bed is queen size, maybe not large enough for the two of us, but it will do. The sheets are pretty and pastel and definitely very girly. She’s even got a ruffled skirt for the mattress, but I assume the bed frame is just the cheap wire one, because there is no headboard.

“This room looks more like you,” I say.

Liz faces me, smiling. She goes for my belt, quickly unbuckles it and swiftly pulls it from the loops. Then she unbuttons my pants and I hold my breath, expecting her hand would make its way into my pants, but instead she smirks and untucks my shirt. It’s a button-up, and she and I make quick work of it together. She tugs off the undershirt fast, and I hear her sigh with relief when her hands are finally on my torso.

“God, I love how you look,” she says. “You have no idea.” She unhooks her bra, then wraps her arms around my back. “I’ve been thinking of this, of feeling you against me, so many times since we broke up.”

I wrap my arms around her, too, both of us naked from the waist up, just hugging.

“I missed you so much, baby,” I say, stroking her hair. “I don’t think this is a rebound.”

“I don’t think so, either,” she says quietly, her cheek on my pecs.

The moment feels important, but I can still feel her pulling away, just a bit. I pinch her chin between my thumb and forefinger and turn it so she faces me. “Don’t you freak out on me now, okay? Everything is good, no reason to panic. It’s just me. I’ve got you.”