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Much to Reagan’s relief, Libby allowed herself to be led away from the studio and behind the drying room where the steps were. “Mysterious.”

Before Libby placed a loafer-covered foot on the stairs, she gave Reagan a wary look.

“What?” Reagan asked. “They’re safer than they look.”

“Where are you taking me, exactly?” Libby asked as she climbed with open hesitation as if looking for booby traps.

Reagan waited until they’d summited the stairs without plummeting to their deaths. “My bedroom, obviously.”

“How many dates have we been on since we reset the counter?” she asked, looking around the modest apartment Reagan had carved out for herself.

“I didn’t know we had reset it,” Reagan replied, leaning against the wall near the stairs. “When did that happen?”

Libby turned away from the portion of her wall covered in sketches and reference images, a dream board for future projects. She hoped she wouldn’t notice the dragon and ask about it.

“When we kissed,” she replied with a grin.

“Oh, you mean when you kissed me?” Reagan asked, her eyes trained on the figure sauntering toward her.

Libby wrapped her arms around her neck. It was quickly becoming Reagan’s favorite thing on Earth. Automatically, her hands found Libby’s waist as she ran her palms over the soft, cotton material of her black dress. “Details, details,”

she whispered before pressing her lips softly against Reagan’s mouth. “How many dates have we been on since then?”

Closing her eyes, Reagan allowed the warmth of her tongue and the sweetness of her lips to short-circuit her senses. Libby’s kiss was a refuge like she’d never known before.

Running her fingers through Reagan’s hair before grabbing a fistful at the back, Libby deepened their kiss.

Reagan groaned reflexively as she lost herself. Judging by Libby’s smile, that had been the intended e ect.

“By my count this is our second date,” Libby said between breathless kisses. She hadn’t expected to get her in

her bed quite so soon.

Without breaking their connection, Reagan walked her backward toward the bed. “Oh, come on,” she said before kissing down the column of neck and skin made salty from sweat. “It’s at least the third date. Meeting the parents counts for one each.”

Libby threw her head back, pressing Reagan closer to her as she moaned. The sound set every nerve in Reagan’s body on fire and sent her hands sliding lower and gripping her backside.

“Even if it was date number three,” she said with a groan as Reagan nibbled her clavicle and inched her closer to the bed. “I don’t want to rush this,” she finished before whimpering.

Extracting herself from the task of leaving a little red mark on her olive skin, Reagan straightened and took a step backward. “Oh,” she cleared her throat and willed her rising arousal to dissipate. “Right. Yeah. I mean your first time with a woman might be a little—”

“Hey,” Libby said, catching her by the wrist before she backed away any further and pulling her back in to her arms.

“It’s not because you’re a woman. I’ve never broken that rule with anyone.” Her face flushed deep red before she looked away and back again. “Though it’s only had to be implemented twice.”

Reagan tucked a strand of dark hair behind Libby’s ear.

“You don’t have to explain. Like Oprah says, no is a complete sentence.”

“I didn’t say no,” she whispered before pulling her back to her lips. “There’s a lot in between first base and third if you’re creative.”

Immediately lost in the lusty haze triggered by Libby’s probing kiss, Reagan was barely aware of her body moving until she landed on the bed with a bounce. In nearly the same

moment, Libby was on top of her and Reagan’s hands found themselves running up the bare thighs straddling her hips.

Libby’s body moved to the rhythm of some imaginary drumbeat as she swung her hips with slow, painful purpose.

“You make me want to do really bad things,” she confessed against her lips.