kiss to his chest through the fabric. He shivered.
“I don’t think I get a choice about liking guys, do I?” I said slowly. “I didn’t ask to be a thing that everyone has opinions about. But I don’t get a choice.”
“Well, you do, kinda,” Henry said softly. “You don’t get a choice about who you’re attracted to, but you do get to choose whether you act on it or not. That part’s up to you.”
My heart thumped wildly. “If it’s up to me, could I ask you to kiss me again?”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” I peered up at him, catching his beautiful eyes. “Yes. Please.”
His hand moved to my cheek, and then he was shifting, sliding down the bed until he was next to me and leaning in. His lips touched mine gently, feather-soft. Calm like a river. Warm like the morning sun.
I pressed forward, eager, and found myself on top of him, one hand tangling in his hair, the other going to his waist. A few minutes ago I was terrified, but now all I felt was hunger, and need— just for contact, for Henry, specifically.
He moaned underneath me as I stroked his hip, then laughed and writhed as my hand traveled upwards.
“Shit. Sorry.” I pulled away from the kiss just enough to talk. “I forgot.”
“You can touch me there,” Henry said. “You just have to be firm about it. It’s light touches that set off the tickle response.”
“Firm hand. Got it.” I grinned.
I toyed with the base of his shirt as I kissed him again, our tongues tangling. He pushed forward, and now I was on my back, Henry straddling me. And unlike last night, I didn’t have to hide the desire that coursed through my body as he ground down against me. Didn’t have to worry that he could tell how badly I wanted him. My fingertips slid underneath the bottom of his shirt.
“Can I?” I asked, tugging at the hem.
“Yeah.” Henry’s voice was breathy. He pulled back, then took over, tugging the T-shirt off over his head. I reached out and trailed a finger down the center of his chest, aching to kiss him there again. To taste his sweet skin with my tongue.
“Are you—do you want to—” Henry looked nervous, fiddling with the bottom of my shirt.
“Oh.” I blinked. I’d gotten so caught up in my fantasy that I’d forgotten what was happening for a second. “Yeah, definitely.”
I did half a sit-up, lifting my back off the bed so I could pull off my sweater and the shirt underneath it. Heat rushed to my cheeks as Henry’s eyes went wide.
“Jesus. I wondered if those pictures you put online were photoshopped at all,” he said. “But they weren’t. You really do have like, a twenty-four pack.”
“What do you think I do with all my free time?” I shrugged sheepishly. “It’s sure as hell not studying.”
“Only you would think the torment of ab exercises was preferable to reading a chapter in a textbook.”
Henry kissed me again, and I ran my hands up and down his back, then around to his stomach, reveling in the smoothness of his skin. He might like my abs, but I thought the softness of his waist was even sexier. His lips traveled to my cheek, then my neck, and then down onto my chest, kissing me exactly where I’d fantasized about kissing him.
Then he was moving to my belly-button, and my stomach, and lower. He glanced up, his eyes wide and questioning, and slid a hand onto my thigh. I nodded, and he kissed my stomach again as he caressed my cock, pressing up urgently against my jeans.
I stifled a groan. Fuck, that felt good, and he was barely even touching me. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to come before we even did anything.
His hand slid to my fly, his fingertips playing with the button of my jeans. He looked up again. “How would you feel about—”
“Good,” I said quickly. “I’d feel good about that. Just don’t—” Henry’s hand stilled. “Don’t judge me if I come really fast?”
“I promise,” he said gently.
He was gentle, too, as he slid my jeans down. He even folded them nicely before setting them on the floor. Then, with another silent question to see if it was okay, he took his own jeans off. I whimpered at the sight of him, the way his cock pressed against his briefs, and the slim V of his hips, and the curve of his ass when he bent over to