She drops her head back on the edge of the bed and looks up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Who cares? It’s just a moment, ya know?”

“But that’s all life is. Just one moment after another. Stacked on top of each other. A good friend explained it to me that way once. Stackable moments lead to things. Sometimes things you planned. But sometimes they lead to new things. Things you didn’t plan.” I stand up and put the guitar on the stand. And then I reach for her hand. And wait.

Her face is puzzled. She looks at my hand and then her eyes find the cut muscles of my waist and travel up my chest until they meet my eyes.

“Take it,” I say.

She does. But she swallows hard when her skin touches mine.

I pull her to her feet and wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her close. Inhaling her scent. Feeling her warmth. I lean down and kiss her neck. I can feel the prickles of hair rise up on her nape and the chill that runs through her body when I whisper in her ear. “Have you ever had the soft fuck, Sydney?”

Another hard swallow as she tilts her head up. Her throat is exposed, like an offering. “I don’t know,” she breathes. “I don’t think so.”

“Cowgirl, if you did, you’d know it.” And then I slip my hand under her shirt and caress my way up her ribs and kiss her mouth at the same time. She’s stiff at first, her lips tight against mine. “Want me to give you a sample?” I ask, pulling back.

“Why?” she asks softly. She’s not looking to say no. She’s looking for a reason to say yes. “Because you feel sorry for me?”

“Nah,” I say, still trying to get her to respond to my kiss. I bite her lip, not hard, just enough to make her pay attention to what I’m doing. “Because the way I took you, Syd, that was not my best performance. And I think I can do better.”

“Why do you want to?” She pulls away from me a little, unsure of my intentions. Hell, I’m not even sure of my intentions.

“I just want you.” I let her pull back a little more, but only so I can see her face. She’s scared. Out-of-her-mind scared. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open now, even though I couldn’t get it to open with the soft touch of my tongue not two seconds ago. “It’s not always rough, Sydney. Sometimes people fuck and they actually like each other.”

“Do you like me?” It’s such a soft whisper, I barely hear it.

“I’m not gonna kill you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I need to know why, though.” Her face scrunches up a little, like she’s having a hard time pulling herself together. I know I have her. I know if I just push a little more—squeeze her nipple in just the right way, press my hard cock against her stomach—she will give in. But if I’m gonna make up for the way I took her the other night, that’s not how this is gonna go.

I take my hand from under her shirt and pull her hair back away from her eyes again. She’s struggling right now. In all the ways I’ve seen her over the years, struggling with kindness has never been one of them. But that’s because she never had the opportunity. I tip her chin up and press my thumb into her bottom lip.

She whimpers and that little noise makes me even harder.

“You’re pretty. Garrett never told you that?”

She shakes her head.

“Well, he’s a dick. Your face is like an angel’s. And your hair, fuck.” I laugh a little and she takes a deep breath. “I’ve pictured you on top of me and that long, dark hair of yours dragging across my chest as you fuck me from the top so many times.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I swear to God, I did. You’ve got a hot fucking body too.” I place my palm on her ribs again, only this time I let it slide down, tracing the line of her waist and then the curve of her hip.

My hands go to her jeans and they are unbuttoned before she has a chance to protest. And then I lift her shirt up by the edges of the hem. Slowly. Looking down at her breasts as I do it. When the fabric releases her nipples I feel a little anticipation.

“I’d like to show you my best work, Sydney Channing. And make you forget your first time. Replace that night with this one. Nothing can be taken back. But you can replace the bad stuff with something else.” I shrug. “That’s all I got, sorry.”

She says nothing. So I lift her shirt over her head and drop it on the floor. “Take off your pants.” She bites her lip and I’m about to yank them down her legs at the sight of it. I control myself though and let her do it her way. She wiggles a few times, her hips moving back and forth, and we are so close this makes her rub against me in all the right ways. They finally drop to the floor and I take her hand as she steps out of them.

“You’re more than pretty, Syd. Your body is so much more than hot.” And it is. In this low golden light, with the backdrop of the windows on all sides, she is perfection. “I’ve always known it. I’ve always seen you in a sexual way. I’ve always wanted you.”

She looks like she might cry, so I put my finger to her lips and murmur, “Shhh. Just close your eyes and let yourself feel happy for a little bit. Forget the past. Forget tomorrow. Forget everything except right now.”

And then I push her, just a little bit, until she takes a step back and her knees hit the bed. She bends without me even asking and sits down. I straddle her knees, still standing, and guide her body back until she finally accepts what I’m offering and settles into the blankets and pillows.

“What are you gonna do?” she asks, her eyes closed.

“Make you come. Make you come so you’ll never want to run away from me again.”

I part her legs, exposing her pussy. It’s wet with anticipation. And even though we haven’t even started, her thighs tremble. I lean in, my breath as hot as my desire for this girl, and circle her opening with my tongue. She stiffens again, but when I flick it across her clit, she forgets everything and moans. Her hand reaches for me, finds my hair, and she pulls.

She pulls me closer. She pulls me inside her.

I add a finger, then two. She’s so tight, she bucks her back from the stretching. But I go slow. Like she deserves. I doubt this girl has ever had a slow fuck in her life and it thrills me to be her first. I already ruined her the other night. I can’t take that back. Nothing can be taken back. But things can be made up for.

I make it up to her.

I lick and suck, and she begins to relax. Her mind, which must race with confusion every second of every day, slows down as my tongue takes its time giving her pleasure.

I can feel her muscles clenching, almost ready, and that’s when I stand up and unbutton my jeans. She’s breathing heavy as she looks at me, her eyes half-mast, her breasts taut and firm, ready for the moment I’ve promised.

“Please,” she says. “Don’t stop.”

“I have no intention of stopping.” I let my jeans fall to the floor, my cock hard and long, ready for her in an entirely different way than last time.

I lean over her and scoot her up to the top of the half-moon bed. My knees press down into the soft white comforter on either side of her hips and my mouth finds the soft skin of her stomach. I nip her with my teeth. Just a small nip. She gasps in some air as I drag my tongue up her body, stop to take another nip at her bunched up nipple, and then find her mouth. Her breath is warm and her lips are tender as I kiss her.

“Look at me, Sydney.” She obeys, but only for a moment. Her mouth tightens, like she might cry. “Shhh,” I whisper. “Don’t do that. Don’t feel sad right now. Please. Just forget everything and only think about how I make you feel.”

And then I ease down on top of her, my forearms on either side of her head.

I kiss her forehead and she lets out a sob. “I don’t know what to do,” she admits with shaky words. “I don’t know what you want or why you want it. I’m lost.”

“You’re not lost. You’re here with me, where you belong. And I want you to do whatever you want, Sydney. But don’t do it to please me. Do it because you want to please yourself. Do it because you enjoy it.”