Page 72 of The Write Stuff

“Why?” She was matter-of-fact. “What would you have done differently?”

That was a weird question. “I don’t know. Something, though.”

“Not that thing with your tongue, right?”

“No, not the thing with my tongue.”

“What about that thing with your finger?” She made a swirling motion to demonstrate what she was talking about.

“Not that thing either,” I assured her.

“So, you wouldn’t have done anything differently. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

I touched my tongue to my top lip. Suddenly, she was free with her words, and I was the one on the spot. “I don’t know. I just would have been more gentle or something.”

“I liked the force you used.” Her smile was beautiful, and it lit up her entire face.

“Is that so?” All I could think about was doing it again, now with the knowledge I had to serve as a guide.

“Yup. I liked it.”

“How much did you like it?” I brushed my nose against her cheek, my voice husky.

“Enough to do it again. I think I need something to judge your first performance by.”

“Oh, yeah? Okay, then.” I rolled her over to her back. Rarely did I feel this much confidence with a woman. She brought it out in me, though. “Prepare to be amazed.”

She grinned. “Be still, my beating heart.”

AN HOUR LATER, SHE WAS CUDDLED into my side again. This time, she was practically purring. Or maybe that was me.

“Yup. That was definitely better than all the other times combined.”

I made a face. “I’m not sure I want to talk about the other times,” I admitted.

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I blew out a sigh and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was still early. “I’m starving. Do you have anything to eat here?”

“I usually don’t eat breakfast,” she admitted. “We could go out.”

“We could.” The idea of leaving this bed held no appeal. “We could order food delivered, too.”

“Ooh.” Her eyes sparkled. “Can you get breakfast delivered?”

“Do you ever DoorDash a meal?”

“I never have. I’ve always wanted to, though.”

She looked so earnest, I could do nothing but pull out my phone. “Let’s see what our options are, huh?”

“I want pancakes. Pick a place with pancakes.”

“I’m pretty sure that can be arranged.”

I MET THE DELIVERY PERSON AT the door. I’d thrown on my shirt from the previous night and my boxer shorts. That was it.

The man at the door looked me up and down, focused on the shirt, then smirked. “Breakfast.” He handed it over.