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it in her face while she sat in a chair getting a lap dance. He wished he could do that part over.

“Could you tell?” she asked quietly.

“Oh God, no, darlin’. I had no idea. It felt great. I didn’t want you to stop.”

She smiled. “Whew.”

He kissed her forehead. “But I’m just wondering . . .”

“What?”

“Why? I mean, you’re sexy and gorgeous and funny and smart and—”

“Whoa there, cowboy. You’re trying too hard.”

“I’m not trying at all.”

“I think . . .”

“What?”

“You might be the only person who sees me that way, Beau.”

How the fuck could she think that? Surely, she wasn’t completely clueless as to how other people saw her. “That’s not true—”

She brushed a strand of hair off his forehead with a casual sense of familiarity that rocked him to his core and made him forget the rest of the sentence.

“I think I’m smart. And sometimes I’m funny, but honestly, as Carmen pointed out once, I’m usually not trying to be—”

He laughed.

“Like that,” she said. “It was clearly funny—you laughed—but I wasn’t trying.”

He kissed her nose, because she was precious. And then he rubbed his against hers, which was a silly little thing that Nonnie used to do with him when he was little, and it shouldn’t feel appropriate at a time like this, but it did. And it made Alice giggle.

“Anyway,” she said. “I don’t think I’m unattractive, but sexy and gorgeous aren’t attributes of mine. And I’m fine with that.”

“Do you know what’s sexiest about you?”

“What?”

“Your confidence.”

Alice smiled. “I almost never feel confident.”

“But you know so much. And you’re never afraid to say what you think—”

“Here’s a news flash, Beau. I memorize things and spout a lot of facts because I often don’t know what else to do. I think most people find it awkward and weird.”

“I find it attractive. Here’s some hard evidence,” he said, placing her hand on his cock.

Alice stroked him with a sly smile, and for someone who hadn’t ever done it before, she did it very well. “So, you never answered my question,” he said with effort. “About why you’ve never . . .”

He lost his train of thought.

“Been intimate with anyone?” she asked.

All he could do was grunt.

“I used to think it was just something I’d never gotten around to. Like I was busy with school and then with a job and then I woke up and bam! Thirty-two years old and a—”

Beau raised an eyebrow at her. She’d almost said virgin.

“Thirty-two years old and never been touched,” she said.

Until him. He was the only one. He tried to sort out what he was feeling. Was it pride? That was stupid. Ownership? That was horrible, and if Alice caught a whiff of it, she’d be out the door before he could get his boots on. No, it was something else that he couldn’t quite figure out.

He wouldn’t adore Alice any less if she’d been with a thousand other men. He didn’t have those kinds of hang-ups. He loved experienced women. Loved knowing them. Loved being with them. Loved their confidence. Loved their skills . . .

But being Alice’s first made him want to bang on his chest and shout Mine! Mine! Mine!

It was a bunch of hairy macho bullshit, but there it was. Right in the center of his chest. And it didn’t feel like a one-way street. Because, after all these years, she’d chosen him.

“I think I was just scared of intimacy.”

Beau brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “You want to hear something funny?”

“Sure.”

“Being afraid of intimacy is why I’ve had so much sex. I never wanted to let anyone get too close, because if they did, they’d eventually find out how stupid I was.”

Alice stopped stroking him. “You’re not—”

“I know that now. I didn’t understand dyslexia when I was a kid. And I took those feelings of stupidity and absorbed them right into the fabric of my being. Not being able to read very well is kind of a big deal in our society, Allie. Everybody I knew could do it. I just thought there was something bad wrong with me, and that nobody would want me if they knew.”

“I want you,” she whispered. “I want you so badly.”

“I’m glad. And I’m happy to be your first, darlin’.” It means you’ll never forget me.

Alice started stroking him again. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”

“Pressure?’

“At least sixty-five percent of women can’t achieve orgasm through intercourse—”

“Really?”

“Yes. And it’s nobody’s fault. Some of it is anatomical, of course. And some of it is psychological. But mostly—”

“Allie?”

“Yes, Beau?”

“Keep talking if you must, but I’m going to give you an orgasm now.”

Alice was all in for orgasms. Orgasms for everybody! Especially if Beau was going to deliver it in the same manner that he did last time. Cunnilingus was probably the only way that she could actually reach an orgasm without some kind of mechanical stimulation from a vibrator.

But if she didn’t have an orgasm, she wasn’t going to let it stress her out. Because while she knew her own body well enough, Beau didn’t. Not yet, anyway.

“I just want you to know I don’t have ridiculous expectations, Beau. I’m going to enjoy the experience, wherever it leads.”

Beau kissed her neck, just below her ear, and worked his way down to her collarbone, where he trailed his tongue, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps that quickly broke out over her entire body.

She was already tingling, and he hadn’t even gotten to—

He brushed his fingers over her nipple, and then slipped the negligee down until her breast was exposed. “Why have you stopped talking, Allie?”

He really liked to toy with her. Instead of answering, she pushed his head down to her breast. She remembered what his mouth had felt like, and she wanted to feel it again.

“I’m sorry,” Beau said. “But you’re going to have to use your words. Communication during sex is important.”

He wasn’t going to make this easy on her.

“Is there something specific you want me to do with

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