“So is it true that instead of taking me out on a date, you’ve been bringing the dates in to me?”

There was a moment of silence that passed between us. Farid looked at me as though he were a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide and his throat bobbing nervously. He had his hand close to his mouth, almost about to dip a piece of pita bread with a bit of kebab right onto his tongue. It was all oddly…cute. Dressed down and maybe the tiniest bit disheveled, he looked ready to rest after a long day of work. It felt very domestic, like he’d just come home from the office and we were having a date night. Which we were, actually.

Duh, Captain Obvious.

If I had my phone out and I knew his face would be the same, I’d have taken a picture.

With a sheepish smile that showed off the dimples on his face, Farid nodded.

“I just wanted to spend more time with you,” Farid explained. “Is that too much to ask?”

I leaned back against the couch and laughed. “No, definitely not. It’s okay. I like staying in a hell of a lot more than going out, anyway.”

For the most part.

“I figured,” Farid replied. “Also, I just think that somewhere private means I get to have you all to myself. I can be a bit covetous, you see.”

He chuckled.

I studied Farid and wondered how I managed to grab this man’s interest. Even as he sat right beside me, his arm behind my back and around my shoulders, I didn’t know how I could be so lucky. That densely-muscled arm, lightly feathered with hair, easily pulled me closer to his warmth and I could only let out a startled little yip at the suddenness.

He was so engrossed with what we were watching on the television—some weird comedy about a group of people in hell—that it took him a few moments to realize I was looking at him. He turned to look at me while I was still staring at him. I put a soft smile on my face when he finally noticed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Farid asked. “Are you thinking about our conversation from earlier?”

“No,” I replied honestly. I grabbed some of the takeout that Farid brought over— Mediterranean food, which I’d stupidly asked earlier if it was from where he came from, and he’d responded glibly that he didn’t serve me any fish and chips, so no.

“Let me ask you something,” Farid started to say.

I looked up at him just as I popped a little bite of pita bread into my mouth. “Hmm?”

“How did you get started on makeup?”

“Oh.” I swallowed down my food. “Does it bother you?”

I felt a little defensive about the way I looked, because to me, it was like battle armor. It separated the people I wanted to surround me and the people I’d never even poke with a ten-foot stick.

When I knew I was going to have a date, or when I knew I needed to be presentable, I put on some makeup. Some people thought it made me look too feminine, but I thought it made me look hotter. To me, making an impression with just the slightest change in the way one looked was magical. A touch of powder to the face, a little eyeliner and a little mascara could change the way one looked. I didn’t even go heavy with it like some people did. I decided to highlight and accentuate the features that I already had instead of building something completely different.

“No,” Farid answered. “I think you look hot either way. You just look more polished with makeup on. In truth, I think you wear it well. It suits you.”

It was a diplomatic answer, to be sure, but I was beginning to see that Farid was just that type of person who always spoke kindly and was eloquent about what he said. Still, I nodded. He was right about that. I was trying to make an effort for him.

I smiled at Farid. I knew I looked good. My mascara was on point. My eyeliner was applied well. I’d added only the slightest touch of highlighter on my cheeks. My face still had a very natural look, emphasizing my androgynous features and not taking away from my masculine side at all.

At least, I thought that, anyway. Someone else might’ve thought differently.

“Well, I wanted to look nice for you,” I replied. “Is it working?”

Farid smiled. “Yes, I’d say so,” he answered back easily. “I’d lean in and take a kiss from you if I didn’t want to smudge your makeup.”

I smiled in return. “Well, if you play your cards right, I’m pretty sure we could do that. Besides, you’re not gonna smudge my makeup,” I said, trying to play it cool. The truth was, I felt my heartbeat quicken at the thought. “Well, you’re not gonna smudge it much.”

I wanted to kiss him. The thought of it happening was enough to make me excited.

Then again, I’d wanted to kiss a lot of men in my lifetime. Farid was making my heart beat faster because this kiss was different. It wasn’t just something to keep my mouth shut while I was being fucked from behind. No, this was different, and there was no doubt about that.

Farid’s eyes seemed to become more intense for a moment, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he seemed to push down whatever emotion was filling him at the moment. He placed a hand on my lap and smiled. “A tempting offer, to be sure. If I wasn’t a gentleman, I’d pull you right up against me and kiss you right here and now.”

The thought filled me with heat. The idea of his body pressed up against mine when I could already feel how warm he was from his vicinity to me was…well, erotic.

“Well, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want it to happen,” I said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. I popped a bit of food into my mouth at that exact moment, even though I knew that would put a dampener in our little play.

I looked away. He did, too. He took a bite, and I took a sip of my drink.

Silence passed between us for a few moments, even though it felt like an eternity. The both of us were stealing glances at each other, catching the other’s gaze and then looking away, trying, albeit poorly, not to be caught by the other.

It was a sweet moment, marred only by the fact that I hadn’t done something so sickeningly sweet for some time now.

A few seconds later, Farid closed the space between us, and his lips finally pressed against mine.

It was surprisingly gentle for someone so large and strong, but in another way, I wasn’t surprised at all. He’d always been so gentle with me, and he was always so perfect—almost dauntingly so, in fact. Warmth spread through my body when I felt him press into me. He had one hand on my cheek, the other on the side of my neck, tilting my head up so that my lips could meet his. The hand on my cheek was careful, too, placed in such a way that he was clearly trying not to smudge my makeup. As if to tell him it didn’t matter that much to me, I leaned into him, and pressed my hands against his chest, feeling the solid strength that lay just underneath the fabric of his shirt.

The kiss was soft and chaste, simmering with the promise for more. It made me feel a tingle of warmth and excitement course through my body, especially when he parted his lips and swiped his tongue against the seam of my mouth, begging—no, demanding—for entrance.

I wanted more.

I couldn’t help but oblige him. I kissed him right back, and whatever we were watching had become nothing but background noise by the wayside. I leaned back into the couch and felt him loom above me. His tongue continuously swiped against my lips, and slowly I parted them, letting him push his way in. I stifled the moan that came out, but met his tongue with my own.

“You taste good, Noah,” Farid whispered, breaking our kiss for only the briefest moment before diving right back in.

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly in response.

Slowly, the hand that was at my neck trailed downward, following the line of my body until he settled right by my hip. Grasping my body firmly, it was like he was anchoring me in place while his other hand finally fell from my cheek, and settled on my shoulder. Our kiss deepened, and I licked at his tongue while it was trying to get a taste of me.

His beard brushed against the five o’clock shadow that I was touting. It felt good to be pushed down by a man after two weeks of being good, of being chaste. All of my dark, swirly thoughts had been pushed firmly aside.

There was only this moment.

There was only now.

I didn’t need to think about anything else except the feeling of Farid’s lips against mine, the taste of his mouth, the way his tongue swiped against my own, and I was grateful for the fact that I wasn’t thinking about anything else except this moment.

The deep, emptiness inside me was sated for now, even though I acknowledged that it was still there.

I could forget all about it, especially with the sudden tightness in my pants as my cock wanted to burst free, or in how swollen my lips felt, or even in the harshness of my breath as I tried to calm myself down from that dizzying kiss.

Farid seemed to be the same way, because his already dark eyes seemed to me to be even darker than before. I could finally understand the look in his eyes, because it was one that I’d been given multiple times before.

It was the same look a lot of men gave me when I knew they wanted me.

Arousal. Lust. Desire—these were things that I knew, concepts that I was intimately familiar with.

“Fuck,” Farid said underneath his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah,” I concurred. “I want to do it again.”

Farid grinned. “I can definitely oblige you that soon. I have to simmer down the excitement a little bit.”

“No, we should keep going,” I replied. I had a hand on the corners of my shirt, ready to tug them free, when Farid’s hands stayed my own.

“Whoa there,” he said. “This isn’t a race, Noah.”

I tilted my head in confusion.

He pulled away from me and chuckled under his breath. I sat there, unsure.

“Do you not want to have sex?” I asked.

Farid looked at me as though I’d grown a second head. “Are you kidding? Of course I do. It’s taking every ounce of restraint in my body not to pounce on you.”

“Then why did you stop?”

“I want to take things slow,” Farid replied matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to be like one of those guys who do that with you and toss you by the wayside. Like I said, Noah, I’m serious about you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I offered a slight smile. I understood. I knew Farid had said something to that effect before, but the rejection for sex had thrown me off-kilter. I didn’t know what to make of it.

Now that things were getting more and more serious, though, was I really ready for what that entailed?

I still didn’t know.