“Clothes off,” he ordered as he released me, already peeling off his own shirt. “Thought I was the bossy one.” I laughed as I added my own garments to the growing pile on his chair. “You are.” As soon as both of us were naked, he tumbled me onto the bed. “Tell me what you like best.” “You.” I liked him. I liked him asking. I liked the way he listened even more. I liked his new bed and the soft flannel sheets. But I utterly loved Paul Frost flat on his back, loved how willingly he let me reverse our positions until I was straddling his waist and holding his face so I could kiss him again.
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