All those mushy words romance writers use: warm, soft, moist.
All of those. Yeah. Oh, and nice. A little tongue, but not too much. Breath minty. Conscientious, this one. Scruples be damned, he’s a good kisser. Those extra six years he’s got on me have been well spent, and his body squishing against mine might just be worth the risk of herpes.
I should be playing coy. Saying no.
We all know no isn’t my strong suit.
I really want to say yes.
His excitement is rising. Between us. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. Not really. It’s a confidence boost to know that I’ve still got it, that Keith didn’t suck all the life out of me. Roger is a successful, handsome, accomplished individual who could likely have any woman he wants—and for all I know, he has had every woman he wants—but right
