Page 72 of True Colors

“Long day?”

I nod.

He steps closer. Slowly. Giving me every second to pull away.

I don’t.

“I want to kiss you again,” he murmurs.

My breathing falters. “Me, too.”

His jaw flexes. “Come here.”

I take two steps.

He takes one.

And then we’re close. I can feel the heat from his body.

He reaches up—hesitates—then tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, fingertips lingering against my cheek.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I d-d-don’t want you to.”

He cups my face in both hands and kisses me.

This kiss is nothing like the one outside my apartment.

That one was soft. Sweet. Testing the waters.

This one pulls me under.

His mouth moves against mine with a slow, hungry precision. His hands slide into my hair. My fingers around his neck.

His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, then lower, and he whispers my name like it’s a prayer⁠—

“L-Luther,” I gasp.

He stops instantly.

“What, my starling?” His voice is ragged.

I have to tell him. This is going to happen, I know it, and I want it to, but he needs to know. “I’ve n-never done this. Any of this.”

He stills, like someone hit pause on him.

“You mean….” His eyes search mine. “You’ve never had sex before?”

I swallow. “N-no.”

A breath leaves him. He steps back an inch, hands gentle on my arms.

“Thank you.” He brushes his lips against mine. “For trusting me with that.”

He looks at me like I’m fragile and priceless.

I nod. I don’t know what else to do.