Frank insisted I take home a couple vinyl records and refused to let me pay for them.

“Thanks, Frank,” I told him. “You know me, always adding to my collection.”

“Feel free to take whichever ones you want,” he told me.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” I told him. “I’ll take anything.”

“You go ahead and pick,” Frank said. “I want you to have something you’ll like.”

“I’m okay with whatever,” I said.

Frank pursed his lips.

“Whatever happened to that mouthy kid who gave me the stink-eye whenever I told her what to listen to?” he asked.

“I’ve mellowed out,” I said, growing uncomfortable. “Just give me something you’ve got extras of.”

Frank grumbled but handed me three vinyl records, all from newer bands I’d only vaguely heard of.

“All these new kids nowadays releasing in vinyl…” Frank shook his head. “I don’t know what’s with that, but it sure keeps me in business.”

After packing up the records and waving goodbye to Frank, Julian suggested we go to his place and play them while we made dinner together.

It sounded so domestic.

It sounded just like old times.

I was a little surprised to find Julian had gone shopping for actual, real groceries. He even had fresh fruits and vegetables in the fridge.

“I am both pleased and astonished,” I told him as I looked over his kitchen, inspecting the fridge crisper and pantry.

“I had planned on inviting you over to make dinner together,” he said. “I didn’t want to make you eat toast and cheese and I thought it would be nice if we ate something other than take out.”

I went over to him and put my arms around his neck, touching our noses together.

“You know I’ll eat anything you make me,” I said.

“That’s the problem,” he muttered quietly with a small frown.

I tilted my head, not sure I’d heard right. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I just wanted to do something nice together.”

He let go and went to the kitchen to take out some pots and pans. I followed behind.

“So what’s on the menu?” I asked.

“Italian.” He grabbed a handful of fresh basil leaves from the fridge. “I know you love pasta so I’ve got the ingredients for a pesto dish.”

Pesto wasn’t Julian’s favorite, but he knew how much I enjoyed it. He’d always done things like this, putting me ahead of himself.

I didn’t know how I could have ever doubted his feelings for me.

“Is that fresh basil?” I asked. “Please tell me I don’t have to crush it by hand. That’s a step beyond just a home-cooked meal.”

“I can do that part,” he said. “I’ll chop up the ingredients and use the food processor. You can keep an eye on the pasta.”

“Doing your husbandly duties?” I teased. “Using your big manly muscles to do the hard part?”

“Unless you want to do it?” He raised an eyebrow.

“That’s okay,” I said hastily. “I’d probably just mess it up like I do everything else in the kitchen.”

“You are aware I’m not much better?”

I bumped his hip with mine.

“Then this is going to be an interesting experiment, won’t it?” I said.

I put the water on to boil and got out the penne. It wasn’t dehydrated from a box. It was freshly made and took a precise amount of minutes and seconds to cook.

“I’m going to mess this one up,” I said, inspecting the instructions on the packet. “This is either going to come out undercooked and chewy or overcooked and slimy.”

“You want to switch after all?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I said. “I doubt I can screw up turning leaves into a paste.”

We switched places. Julian had already chopped the basil, pine nuts and garlic. All I needed to do was throw it into the mixer.

“Remember the first time we tried to make a nice dinner together?” I asked.

“I remember,” he said, a faint smile on his face. “You told your mom to stay out of the kitchen and let us do it by ourselves, but she couldn’t help peeking in and giving us instructions.”

“All I wanted was a romantic evening with my new boyfriend,” I said, lamenting at the memory.

“Maybe that’s why she was so nosy,” Julian said. “She wanted to make sure our romantic evening didn’t turn into something a little more carnal.”

“She didn’t need to worry about that.”

Julian and I shared a soft smile.

Neither of us had been inexperienced when we’d first started dating. We’d each had girlfriends and boyfriends before — both in Julian’s case. Neither of us were anxious virgins.

Still, we hadn’t rushed. We’d taken our time. I think we both knew what we had was something special. Something more than just a teenaged crush. Somehow, we got each other. We had clicked. We hadn’t wanted to ruin things with adolescent fumblings. We’d waited until we were both secure in our feelings for each other.

“Remember our first kiss?” Julian asked as he stirred the pasta. “I thought I’d be nervous. But I wasn’t. Things just felt…”

“Right,” I completed.

He turned from the pot to look at me, his eyes going soft. “Yeah. Things felt right.”

“Do you remember me asking you to take off your sweater and give it to me right then and there?”

“You wanted to snuggle with it after I went back home after our date.” Julian chuckled. “You always did say you liked the way I smelled.”

“I do,” I agreed.

“Isn’t that just what they call pheromones?” he said. “It’s a biological thing.”

“Whatever it is, it makes you smell amazing.”

“You make me sound like a tasty dish of food.”

“I wouldn’t say no to taking a bite out of you.”

We met each other’s eyes. I gave him a heated stare. I saw a similar heat reflected in his. I slowly dragged my eyes up and down his body, taking in his broad chest and slim hips, enjoying the flex of his throat as he swallowed.

I threw him a sultry smirk. Julian turned off the stove with a quick flick. He came over and pressed me against the kitchen counter. He placed his hands on my rib cage, his thumbs stroking just under my breasts.

“Is the pasta ready?” I asked.

His eyes simmered with a different kind of hunger. “Fuck the pasta.”

I surged forward and closed the gap between us. He captured my lips with his, our mouths moving urgently against one another’s. I wrapped one leg around him and rolled my hips. I couldn’t help but let out small moans as I ground down against him.

He cupped my ass with both hands, squeezing and kneading.

“Hold on,” he mumbled through our kiss.

I clutched his shoulders as he picked me up and carried me through the apartment to the bedroom.

We landed on the bed together with a heavy thud, the mattress bouncing underneath us, but never broke our kiss.

I reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it up and over his head. He did the same to mine. I explored his chest, enjoying the feel of his hard planes and valleys against my palms. He was warm. He’d always been so warm. He peppered kisses along my neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking, no doubt leaving red marks.

I didn’t stop him. I wanted those marks. I wanted the evidence of our passion.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my jeans and tugged down. We both took a moment to divest ourselves of the rest of our clothes and grab protection from the nightstand drawer. Soon, we were naked. Julian was on top of me, his stiff length bumping against my inner thigh. I was already wet and throbbing inside, needing him to take me, right then and there.

But he didn’t. He stayed in that position, just barely brushing against me. He gave me slow, lazy kisses, but didn’t do anything other than that.

I pulled away from his lips.

“Do it,” I said breathlessly. “Fuck me.”

With a hand curled around his base, he dragged the tip up and down, between my lower lips, teasing me.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“Yes!” I dug my fingers into his upper arms. “Fuck me!”

He thrust himself inside me and I let out a choked cry. I shuddered underneath him as he kept on pushing, going deeper and deeper, until he’d bottomed out, as far inside me as he could go.

He pulled out, slowly. I moaned at the loss. He shoved back in with a powerful buck of his hips. I cried out at the sensation.

Julian brought a hand to my clit and rubbed in circles. I squirmed and writhed on the bed as the pleasure soared through me. I was sent higher and higher, almost at my peak.

“Come for me, Ev,” Julian murmured. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come around me.”

With a sharp gasp I flew over the edge, my orgasm roaring through me. I clenched down hard and fluttered around him, milking his cock. I heard him groan, felt his muscles strain, but didn’t feel that familiar twitching that told me he’d found his own release.

After long moments, when the exquisite pleasure had subsided and I was lying limp on the bed, Julian put a thumb to my lips.

“I want you to do something for me, baby,” he said softly.

“Anything,” I breathed.

His eyes flashed with heat. He pushed his thumb into my mouth, laying it on the flat of my tongue.

“Suck me,” he said hoarsely.

I closed my mouth around his thumb and sucked as I nodded, showing him I understood.

Julian pulled out of me and I hissed, still sensitive. He disposed of the condom and stood in front of me. I sat on the bed, gripping his thighs and bringing his cock to my mouth.

He placed a hand on the back of my head, guiding me closer. I breathed out, letting hot air wash over him. I licked a line from base to tip and relished his moan. I lightly gripped the base with my hand and darted down to suck him into my mouth.

“Fuck!” he cursed, his fingers tightening in my hair. I felt the strain of his thigh muscles as they quivered and clenched.

I continued bobbing up and down, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive him crazy. I knew this body so well. I knew exactly what to do with my lips, where to place my tongue, to make him go wild. I loved watching Julian lose control the way he did under my attention.

I felt the telltale signs of his orgasm through the pulsing of his cock between my lips.

He pulled out, leaving me to breathe heavily. I peeked up at him through my lashes.

“Kneel on the floor,” he demanded.

A shiver went through me at the demand, liking the display of dominance. It was rare from Julian.

I nodded and slid to my knees. He put his cock back in my mouth and I continued sucking.

“Normally I’d want to come inside that pretty mouth of yours,” Julian said, “but this time I want to come on those gorgeous tits.”

Even though I enjoyed his tone, the request made me pause. He’d only ever done that a few times before. I’d never found it as hot as he did. Really, it only ended up leaving a cold sticky mess.

But I nodded anyway and let him pull out of my mouth.

He grabbed himself by the base and dragged the tip over my lips, leaving a sticky wet trail.

“Maybe instead of coming on your tits,” he began, “I’ll come on that beautiful face of yours. Would you like that?”

I tried not to grimace. We’d never done that. I actually found it kind of degrading.

But it was Julian and I loved him, so I nodded again.

He began pulling on his cock, stroking it.

“Or maybe…” he grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. He stared at me impassively. “Maybe I’ll come on the floor and make you lick it up.”

The fuck—!

I choked out a noise of disbelief.

“Okay, what the hell—!” I screeched. I jumped up from my knees and pushed at Julian’s shoulder. “Gross! What the fuck kind of sick porno shit is that?”

Julian’s eyes went pained and concerned.

“Finally,” he said.

I blinked.

“What?” I blurted out.

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He looked oddly sad, considering he was standing in front of me, naked and hard.

“I wondered how far you’d let me take it,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms over my bare chest.

“Explain,” I said.

“Ev…” He reached out for my hand. I hesitated, but let him take it. He placed a kiss to the center of my palm and pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling into it. “What the hell did Keith do to you?”