Page 45 of Make It Last

I nodded, then hesitated. “What did we say about thinking?” he teased.

I pressed my lips together and rolled my eyes. I felt uncertain and vulnerable, but safe.

I cupped his cheeks and kissed him again, just like I had in the hospital. Doubt flickered, trying to remind me that being assertive had never gone well before.

Tanner didn’t mind at all. I felt the curve of his smile as he adjusted the angle of my head and deepened our kiss. It felt like diving into deep water, then bursting back up for air—invigorating, bracingly alive. I shifted restlessly, wanting more.

Tanner moved me carefully in his arms, always aware of my ankle. His hand loosened in my hair before sliding down to my breasts, teasing until pleasure spiked sharp and sweet. He pinched one nipple lightly.

I whimpered. The sound startled me. I had never been a whimpering kind of girl unless I was faking it.

His palm slid beneath the hem of my tank top. Oh. My. God. Skin on skin. Heat raced everywhere. The sensation inside me kept building, faster and faster. I shifted in his lap, loving the way his arousal pressed against me. I wore stretchy leggings because that was all I wore these days.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t pretending. I wanted his hand to slide right under that waistband, but no luck yet. Instead, he slid over the fabric to cup between my thighs again, and I restlessly pressed my hips up into his touch. As our kiss went on and on, his head dipped lower, nipping lightly at the side of my neck. I arched into him, gasping his name.

He gave me just the perfect amount of pressure, right where I needed it. A climax burst through me—shocking, fierce—and I shuddered, crying out and flexing up into him. When I opened my eyes, his gaze was already waiting for mine.

I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe some kind of cocky satisfaction. That was what I always got from my ex when I faked it. But that was not how Tanner looked.

His eyes searched mine with a question in them before he dipped his head again, catching my lips in a languid, almost lazy kiss. Leaning back, he asked, “How do you feel?”

I decided to be honest. There was nothing to lose here. “Amazing,” I said.

Tanner let out a startled laugh, eliciting a giggle from me. “It was amazing,” I repeated. “I had an orgasm. I’ve only had them with my vibrator. By myself. I didn’t expect that,” I said honestly, a flush of vulnerability rising inside again.

It felt deeply exposing to say it aloud. But even though I was the one who had just had an orgasm—fully clothed—Tanner looked like maybe he felt exposed too. That made me feel not quite so alone in the moment.

I took a breath. Pleasure was still rippling through me as I stared up at him. I wiggled slightly in his lap. He was still hard. Another surprise. Brad constantly had trouble keeping it up and always blamed it on me.

“Your turn?” I pressed.

Tanner shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” I squeaked, half laughing, about to get bossy and insist I do something about this very real situation.

But he shook his head again, more firmly this time. “I like you, Ava. It’s not always about that.” He gave me a quick, hard kiss, one hand palming my cheek, then leaned back again.

“But—” I began.

“Really. It’s not necessary. We have time.”

I mentally scrambled a little. You see, my ex’s pleasure—if you could call it that—was always the priority. I didn’t even know if he ever enjoyed anything we did. But he made sure I knew I wasn’t doing it right.

“I mean that,” Tanner insisted.

“Okay, fine.” I let out a little sigh. “So what do we do now?”

The TV was still rolling in the background. Tanner glanced over at it. “We could watch a show.”

“Really?” I wiggled again in his lap and saw his jaw clench. A bolt of satisfaction zinged through me.

“Ava?” he warned.

“What?”

“I want this to be good for you.”

“Well, we’ve established it is. But what about you?”