Asher held true to that whole touching me thing. His hands were occupied while he was making dinner—and that risotto really was delicious—but once we were eating at his kitchen table, he started pressing his leg up against mine in a way he never had before when we’d eaten out together.

He tucked my hair behind my ear, kissed my cheek when I said something that amused him, and playfully poked me when I was teasing him. I loved it. I’d had no idea that there was this more tactile person lurking underneath the surface, someone who touched not just for sex but for fun and to express love, and I wanted more of it.

We talked all through dinner, about this and that. I explained how Mary had called me the day after the wedding—or rather, video called me—since she’d wanted to see my face and she and Josh were already in Hawaii for their honeymoon. We’d both cried a lot: me for causing a scene at her wedding, and her for lying to me and breaking my one friendship rule.

“We both had things to apologize for,” I said, when I’d finished. “But she’s been my best friend my entire life, and nothing’s going to change that. Although, in the moment, I did want to strangle her after I’d finished stabbing you.”

“Stabbing me? Really? Not even something nice like poison? Ouch.” Asher put his hand over his heart. “I’m truly wounded.”

I laughed. It felt good to laugh with Asher again. That had always been something that he was good at. Well, that, and getting me turned on. His hand was on my thigh and his thumb was rubbing slow circles on it, something that he probably thought was soothing but was actually driving me slowly crazy with lust.

So, as soon as we finished our meal, I pounced. Literally.

I pinned him up against the table before he could start clearing up the plates and utensils.

“Let’s save that for later,” I said, keeping my voice low and sensual.

Asher put his hands on my hips automatically.

“You sure? We did just get back together. After not…being together. Well, not officially being together. But. You know.”

It made me laugh to see him less than suave for once. Asher was a huge dork underneath it all, even if he would never admit it.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, kissing him until he relaxed against me and I could slide my tongue into his mouth, turning the kiss deep and sensual.

“Very sure.”

“Well, if you insist,” Asher replied, his voice turning into a growl as he slid his hands underneath my thighs and lifted me up.

This time, I was expecting it, so I giggled instead of shrieking and wrapped my legs around him tight, rocking my hips into him. My body was starting to tingle in anticipation, knowing what was coming next—and knowing that he didn’t care if I came or not, just so long as we enjoyed ourselves together.

We stumbled down the hallway like love-drunk idiots, laughing into each other’s mouths because we couldn’t stop kissing long enough for Asher to properly walk us to where we needed to go. I got a quick glimpse of his room—tasteful, in masculine shades of blue and gray—and then I was landing flat on the bed and scrambling backwards to give him room, feeling myself continuing to grin.

My cheeks were going to hurt later on from so much smiling, but I didn’t care. Not when Asher was crawling up the bed towards me and looking at me like he wanted to devour me.

“You are just the most gorgeous fucking person,” he informed me, kissing me full on the mouth.

“Now you’re just being a kiss-ass,” I replied, tugging at his shirt to get it off of him.

He was wearing just a T-shirt, something I had rarely seen him in, and probably a sign of what a wreck he’d been for the last week. I liked the idea that he’d been a wreck because of me, seeing as I’d been a wreck because of him.

“It’s all 100% truth,” Asher assured me.

I shoved him back so that I could get a good look at all of the skin that I’d missed the last week, his chest and shoulders and stomach. I leaned in, running my tongue over his body, reacquainting myself with the taste of him. Asher made a choked noise and his hands started yanking at my own shirt and jeans, trying to get them off while I was still tonguing at his abs and nipples, which was not the smoothest idea ever.

“You know you’re going to have to wait for me to finish to get those off, right?” I asked, pausing.

“Your mouth is sin and I want you naked,” Asher replied, as if that answered my question.

I sighed and let him help me out of my clothes, pretending to be extremely put-out about the hassle, but I think the stupid grin still plastered on my face ruined that somewhat. Then, we were kissing again, slow and languid, like we had all the time in the world.

And we did, I realized. We actually did have all of the time, because he wasn’t trying to just give me an orgasm and then leave, and I wasn’t stuck in limbo wondering if we were together or not. He loved me and I loved him, so we could take our time.

It was amazing what that knowledge did to my body. I felt so relaxed, like all of the tension had gone out of me.

Asher noticed the change in me, because he pulled back and looked down at me.

“You all good?” he asked.

“I am,” I replied, swiftly undoing his pants. “I’m with you and I’m happy, that’s all.”

Asher smiled at me, like this was the best news that he’d ever heard, and started kissing me again. This time, he didn’t stay just at my mouth, but worked his way down, obligingly taking off his jeans so that I could admire the view. He kissed his way down my neck—stopping at the spot behind my ear that made me gasp and a shiver work down my spine—and then down to my breasts.

I loved his mouth on my breasts. I loved the way he would tug lightly at a nipple, just this side of pleasure and pain, and how he would tease, rubbing circles around my nipple but not fully touching it just yet. I was still feeling that relaxed, pleasured sensation, like I was a live wire but a floppy one, filled to the brim with sensation but so relaxed about it.

Asher kept working his way down, until he could spread my legs wide with his hands and kiss and suck his way up my inner thighs, making me tremble. He liked teasing me, liked making me beg for it, and I was determined to hold out this time.

Maybe today he was a little impatient, feeling a rush where I was feeling relaxed, because he dove right in, licking and sucking at my clit. I cried out in surprise and pleasure, my back arching up. Oh, God, it felt so good when he did that.

My legs shook as I forced them to stay open against the onslaught of sensation. Asher slipped a finger inside of me, slowly working me open, and I keened in pleasure as he curled it upwards just the way that I liked. I loved that he’d taken the time to get to know my body. It made each time we had sex better than the last, because he knew me better, knew how I worked and what made me go crazy.

Asher added a second finger, and I moaned, thrusting my hips down to meet the sensation. I wanted him inside of me, loving the feel of him coming undone. Maybe later on, we’d be able to do this without a condom, and I could feel him in every way as he fell apart. I wanted that, and the thought made me even wetter, the idea of no barriers between us. I thrust my hips more frantically, trying to show him that I was ready, that I wanted him.

“C’mon,” I finally gasped, reaching down to tug at his hair. “Asher, please, please, I want you, please.”

“Well, when you say it like that…” He raised his head up and winked at me. He loved it when I begged.

Asher fished around inside his top dresser drawer, pulled out a condom, and lined himself up.

“I’m still going to make you try doggie style someday.”

“Mmm, that sounds good, but right now I really like the feeling of you pinning me down.”

Asher’s hips stuttered and he slid into me, his mouth going slack. I grinned and draped my legs up over his shoulders to give him more room to sink all the way into me. Asher also liked it when I talked dirty—or, rather, he liked it too much—and it always made him go a little out of control.

That was another thing—I liked that I knew all of this about him, just as he knew things about me. We were synced up, working and moving together as one, especially now that he was inside of me. I could feel him thrusting, getting in deep, his body rubbing against my clit with each thrust. I worked hard to meet him, that syrupy-thick feeling of satisfaction filling me more and more, like I was a cup about to be filled to the brim.

I yanked at his shoulders, pulling him up a little so that I could kiss him. I loved this. I loved him pinning me down, I loved him deep inside of me, I loved this building sensation like I was riding the crest of a wave, I loved I loved I loved—

It was like someone had punched me in the stomach, but in the absolute best way. My limbs tensed and shuddered as the air shot out of me, leaving me gasping and clawing at Asher as I made a strangled, screaming sound that I’d never made before. It felt so good, beyond good, oh my God. Just everything on fire, exquisite fire, my body burning up as it writhed, really writhed, completely out of control.

I could hardly breathe for the pleasure that filled me, making my body shake. Asher was still moving inside of me, thrusting hard, and that only made the pleasure stretch on and on, until just when I thought I would die from how good it felt, Asher gave a shudder and I felt him finish.

Asher pulled out of me, but I was still shaking, tiny little tremors, like the aftershocks of an earthquake. He pulled me close to him, pushing the hair back from my face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You look a little shocked there.”

I realized that I was still gasping for breath.

“Oh my God,” I croaked. “That was—holy shit—that was the best sex of my life. How did—what was—”

“That,” Asher told me, kissing the tip of my nose, “Was an orgasm, sweetheart.