“You were watching me?”

I get up and walk to him, peeling off my T-shirt as I go. When I stand at the edge of his bed, he scoots over and lifts the blanket, inviting me in.

“Not intentionally.”

In the faint moonlight from the window, he smiles, half-hearted: I’m breaking his friends-only rule, but so is he. “Kind of creepy, don’t you think?”

“Oh, sure. Says the guy masturbating with someone else less than ten feet away.”

“I thought you were asleep.” I can’t see his blush, but I hear the embarrassment in his voice. “It wasn’t like.... I mean, I’ve never—”

I kiss him, shutting him up. “Maybe you wanted to get caught.”

I reach into his sweatpants and wrap my hand around him. He takes a breath, hardening again almost instantly. “Maybe I did.”

As Shepherd’s hands roam my thighs, I play a game: the closer he gets to my panties, the faster I move my hand for him. When he finally rubs me through the fabric, I steady my pace.

“Lila,” he sighs, swallowing hard. His hand pauses as he gets lost in it, just for a moment, before he finds the waist and pulls it down. I feel his fingers run along my sex, testing.

“I’m ready,” I whisper, almost desperate. The hell with it: I am desperate. I’ve been dying for him to touch me ever since the fight. It could just be some damsel-in-distress thing, the thrill of him protecting me. I’m sure that’s at least part of why he’s going along with this, too, his speech this morning long forgotten.

Shepherd pushes his fingers inside, setting a rhythm that melts me, pressing his mouth against mine as I moan. I feel myself getting wetter every time he moves; when I buck my hips towards him, asking for more, he flinches in my hand.

An empty ache takes over after he removes his fingers. Within seconds, I feel his tip there, but he barely pushes it into me before stopping.

“I, uh....” He tongues his cheek. “I’m out of condoms.”

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control. I mean...unless there’s another reason?”

“Oh, no, I don’t have any STDs or whatever.” He stops, like he’s waiting.

“Me, neither.”

“Right,” he says quickly. “I mean, I figured you didn’t.” Both of our hands stop, everything still pulsing, blood still rushing, but with the pleasure on pause. Talk about awkward. Responsible, sure, but not exactly dirty talk.

“There’s always abstinence,” I deadpan, until he laughs again.

“We both know,” he says, “that isn’t gonna happen.” Shepherd thrusts and fills me, all at once. My eyes flutter shut. I lift my hands to his face and hold it, like in the parking lot.

“I’ll pull out.” He kisses me, the sounds I make muffled into his mouth. “I was just letting you know in case you wanted me to go buy some.”

I shake my head. “It’s fine. Just...don’t stop doing this.”

He smiles. “So,” he says, “you have now seen me touch myself. I’ve got to say, I’m a little horrified.”

I bite my lip and confess, “I was doing it too.”

“You were?”

“Just for a few seconds.” I feel a blush rise. “I know you said you don’t want to get involved, but when I saw you.... And the fight—”

“I know.” His muscles tighten, like he’s refraining from driving into me with all his strength. “I meant what I said: I’ve never done that with somebody else around. And I never would—I stopped. It’s just, with you....” He sinks in again, his forehead touching mine. “...it’s like I can’t help myself.”

“Me, too.” I cup his ear and draw his mouth to mine. “I don’t want you to hold back, though.”

I realize, after I say it, that I mean it in more ways than one: not just sexually, but emotionally, romantically, whatever describes this link between us that neither of us can shake.

His muscles unwind as, finally, he lets his hips drive at the rhythm they want, the force they need. “I don’t want to, either.”

“My favorite position?”

“Yeah.” I kiss her neck, one spot warm to the touch; I’m positive I’ve given her a hickey without meaning to. “We did mine last night, with you on top, so it’s only fair we do yours now.”

Lila smiles, looking self-conscious. “Okay. It’s doggy-style, kind of. Like this.” I pull out of her and watch as she rearranges the pillows, lying on her stomach with her hips propped in the air.

I position myself behind her and slip back inside. “So I take you from behind,” I say, intentionally lowering my pitch, “while the pillows rub you. Right?”

Lila whimpers as I thrust in and out, already back to business. “Right,” she breathes, helpless.

Even in the midst of all this, with my brain focused almost exclusively on her, I remember this morning. I know I should stop—but how can I? By going this far, I’ve basically decided my friends-only rule is shit. And maybe it is. Maybe I was wrong.

I let the thoughts go. Right now, I want to focus only on this feeling.

“Shepherd,” she says, over her shoulder. Her face is pressed against the mattress, eyes shut, hands balled into fists near her head. “Please…please, go faster. Deeper.”

“Like this?” My hands cup her hips; I rock mine forward, hard, before withdrawing and doing it again. Her eyes open a bit, and then roll back as they close. The mere sight makes me dizzy.

“Yes.” She pushes back to meet me. “Yes, Shepherd, God, yes!” Her voice dissolves into a moan. I realize mine is just a weird, grating sound, my breath ragged and trapped inside my chest. I get another head spin when her lower lip starts trembling; she bites it, just to hold it still.

Then, after she shudders and I know she’s as close as I am, I see her mouth my name. Over and over, her lips draft the syllables, even if her lungs can’t find the air to push them out.

It’s too much to handle. I pull out at the last possible millisecond and fall against her.

It takes me a minute to get my bearings, to even remember where I am. I realize I’m putting a ton of my weight on her. “Sorry,” I pant. “Did you...?”

She shakes her head, still speechless and catching her breath. Immediately, I slide my fingers into her, first two, then three.

I think about her mouthing my name again, and decide to try my luck with a fourth.

God, the noise she makes—I’ve never heard anything like it.

When Shepherd puts the fourth finger inside me, my brain implodes.

“Oh, God,” I tell him, only it doesn’t sound like that. It doesn’t sound like anything but noise, the words as blurred as the colors behind my eyelids. “I’m…I’m so….”

“I know, baby.” Shepherd’s breathy voice saying that word, baby, gets me impossibly close. “Don’t worry. I won’t stop.”

He kisses my shoulder. I grind my hips against the pillow and feel it begin, that slow bloom and burn of my orgasm.

The spike throws me into oblivion. True to his word, Shepherd doesn’t stop or even slow down. I grip the bed sheet on either side of me and whimper his name, trying so hard to tell him what I’m feeling. I can’t.

When it ends, he helps me roll off the pillows and kisses his way up my body. I’m gasping. Both of us smile, his stronger than mine.

“Guess I’m glad you caught me,” he says.

An aftershock engulfs me as he pulls the blanket across us. I take a breath and force my vocal chords to operate. “I’ve never had anyone put four fingers inside me at once.”

“I’ve never put four in someone.” We laugh softly, the sound like mist between us.

Shepherd loops his arms around me and pulls my body against his. I feel his heartbeat on my hands, tucked between our chests.

“How can you feel this way about someone you just met?” he whispers.

I shake my head. It isn’t clear if he’s talking about my feelings, his, or both, but the answer to all of those is the same: I have no idea.