CHAPTER 23

“Willow” – Taylor Swift

I KNEW LUCA’S HANDS WOULDN’T disappoint having stared at them an embarrassing number of times before the fact.

Even now as we drive down to the beach the next day, I can’t stop glancing over at how tightly they grip onto the steering wheel as I curse underneath my breath at how I stopped his fingers before they even had a chance to go inside me.

When he comes out of the water after he spent the morning surfing and I opted to sunbathe on the shore, I look over at him, unsure if I’ll ever get used to how glowing his skin is.

It’s a good thing he closes his eyes while basking in the sun as he picks up his beach towel. Since I’m trying not to show him how awfully distracted he has made me.

Aimlessly picking up my book while barely concealing the bottom half of my face, I hear his cocky voice from above. “I didn’t know that you could read upside down.”

Shit. There goes my cover.

“How do you know it’s upside down?” I say. “Maybe the cover just looks like that.”

He snorts. “Right. ”

Turning my attention to the other side of the shore, I spot a few kids building sandcastles.

The sense of wonder that’s written across their faces is so palpable that I feel their joy from afar. Yet there’s this bittersweet afterthought that lingers as I recall a familiar memory from long ago. When I observed an identical scene back when I was a child. Although still as an outside observer.

I didn’t think things from my childhood would also leave me feeling like I missed out. It could be since those years were so long ago that I can’t quite trace those memories as well as my twenties or even teenage ones. The melancholy from the familiar reminder feels all the same though.

“You have that same look on your face that you have when you’re daydreaming about something,” Luca says. He really can read me frighteningly well at this point.

I snap out of this daze, turning toward him again. “No, I was just distracted by the sandcastles.”

“I haven’t made one of those in ages,” he says with such a warm smile.

I reveal, “I’ve never made one.”

His brows furrow so deeply. “ Really ?” It’s his honest reaction. Yet, seeing how surprised he looks only adds to the dreariness I’m feeling over missing an experience I so desperately wanted.

My focus returns back to the piles of sand as I reply, “Yeah. I always wanted to though.” I add dreamily, “You knew it was The Fourth of July when the shore was lined up with all sorts of sandcastles. I’d always get so distracted walking past them on the sidewalk. It’s one of my favorite memories during summer.”

“So why didn’t you?” he asks, curious .

I turn toward him, explaining, “I don’t have any siblings and my parents made it clear early on how silly these things were. So I just didn’t bother doing it on my own I guess.”

His expression drops slightly. “What about with your friends?”

“I wasn’t that close with my friends when I was a kid,” I reply.

A sadness I’ve swept away so well that I thought had left me altogether returns when I remember how much this did affect me as a little girl.

“I only really spent time with them at school,” I add. “My parents kind of raised me with the mentality that family is more important than your friends and that socializing with them was meant to be limited to just at school.”

Luca’s eyes look a bit sad. Even more disappointed. But most of all perplexed. “And did that bother you?” he asks.

“You have no idea ,” I say, frustrated, but suddenly, also a little self-conscious. Wondering if it’s okay to be sharing this much.

It’s so important to not be bitter. They are my parents after all. But what about everything I felt. What I went through. Does none of that count? Can it never be discussed? Acknowledged? Heard? If I talk about it, would that just be me complaining? But if I don’t talk about it, wouldn’t that make what happened okay? But it wasn’t okay.

It wasn’t just about a sandcastle.

All the good grades I tried my best to get. That became worthless to them the second I got one not-so-great grade. All the times I sacrificed spending time with my friends when I wanted to be with them. The hobbies I stopped since they weren’t ever going to turn into a career (since my career is absolutely what I should have been thinking of as a child). The volleyball and soccer games I kept insisting were worth it to come to at least one (they never even came to one). The middle school plays that they would skip because they also thought were “silly,” even though they meant everything to me. Even when I would tell them it meant that much to me. While I’d watch my classmates’ parents in the audience with envy.

It wasn’t only about showing up. My parents both had full-time jobs, and I knew how hard they worked. It was about reminding me that what I liked mattered .

So I wish it was just about a fucking sandcastle. Instead, the list goes on.

I blink away the saltwater that’s started to form in the inner corners of my eyes, knowing I have to talk about this. Realizing it’s okay to talk about it.

“It felt so suffocating,” I continue to share. “It was also pretty isolating since I always felt like I was more of an extrovert. That’s why I couldn’t wait to go to college where I started having an actual social life. It was the first time where my life wasn’t centered around grades. But by then I was well past the age of making sandcastles.” I try to laugh even though I don’t find any of this to be particularly funny.

Luca doesn’t reply and instead just gets up from his towel and starts putting his shirt and sandals back on.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He looks at me like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “To get some plastic buckets and shovels.”

My brows crease. “What? Right now ?”

“Yeah. There’s a souvenir shop right down the street.”

“We’re going to make sandcastles? Right now?” I repeat, still trying to process this.

“ Why not ?” he asks, his eyes bright with some beautiful sense of childlike wonder. “Don’t move, this is quality sand,” he adds in the most unserious way possible.

Any remaining tingle in my eyes evaporates into a loud chuckle. “Right, I’ll protect our imaginary castle until you get back.”

When Luca’s back, I almost do a double take when he takes out a few items out of a small paper bag. “Are you sure that’s a bucket and not just a tiny cup with a handle on it?”

“I’ll let you know the feedback I get the next time I take it with me to the gym,” he deadpans.

“Start making TikTok videos with it. You could go viral.”

“You never know. This might be my true calling,” he says as he kneels onto the warm sand.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Making sandcastle videos?”

He looks up at me with a slight smirk. “No. Holding a tiny cup while staring into my phone camera.”

I snort. “With that face, you’d still go viral.”

“If you think I’m blushing right now, I’m not. It’s just from my sunburn.” He winks at me, and if I didn’t know him better, I’d think it was such a fuckboy thing to do. But instead it sends a wave of pleasure throughout my body.

I try my best to contain my smile when Luca hands me a tiny piece of plastic that resembles a mini fork. “Oh my God. It just gets worse…”

“Just wait until you see my shovel,” he says as he rummages around the paper bag for far too long.

“Was that a euphemism?” I ask. But before he can even answer, I immediately cover my mouth with my hands and lose it when he holds up said shovel. “What in the world is that ?”

“Have you seen The Little Mermaid ?” he asks.

I raise my brows. “What type of question is that? Of course I have. Ariel is my favorite Disney princess. Why?”

He holds up the tiny shovel comically. “Well isn’t it obvious then? This is a dinglehopper .”

I don’t even bother suppressing my laughter any longer at his reference to my second favorite character from the movie. “Stop. I relate to Scuttle on a daily basis,” I admit.

“He’s a wise bird. Isn’t he?” Luca’s cheeks practically beam as his lips curve even wider. “So are you ready to make the rest of the sandcastles here look like a joke?”

I smile. “Let’s do it.”

After meticulously piling up the golden sand and morphing them into various uneven shapes, our castle is complete. And it’s exactly what you’d imagine it would be with one mini bucket and two tiny fork shovels.

I stare at the piece, wondering if it’s not half bad or pretty awful. “Why is it so crooked though?”

Luca cocks his head. “If you tilt your head it’s not.”

I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”

As we fix some of the edges, he looks up at me mischievously and says, “Aren’t you going to ask me who my favorite Disney princess is?”

My brows crease. “ You have a favorite princess?”

“ Everyone has a favorite princess.”

“Please don’t say Jasmine.”

He shrugs sarcastically. “Am I not allowed to have the same favorite from before I met you?”

“So she is your favorite?” I say, trying not to smile.

“Yeah.” He looks at me with a glimmer in his eyes that’s starting to make me wish we could return back to last night’s activities .

“What are the odds that your favorite princess also happens to share my name?” I tease.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s fate.” Luca smirks.

I feign surprise. “I’m definitely hallucinating now.”

“I know,” he says, eyes widening. “Who would’ve thought that I’d be the one telling you something’s fate?”

“The tides have freakishly turned,” I say.

When the realization of what we’re doing hits me, I confess, “I don’t think I can ever explain how much this all means to me.” I choke on the words that I don’t know will be enough to express the magnitude of what he’s done for me.

It’s not just making a sandcastle. It’s so much more than that. He’s brought back a moment of my childhood that I always felt would be out of my reach. The lost pieces of myself somehow now feel as though they’ve returned.

Luca holds out his tiny shovel in the air with an amused expression. “What makes you think this was for you ? Did it not occur to you that maybe I wanted to make a sandcastle?”

He’s doing a terrible job trying not to laugh.

And just when I was about to cry, I’m somehow laughing again .

Luca has a funny way of doing that. Making me forget why I’m sad about anything.

Then he reaches out and gently takes my hand, pressing a kiss to it so softly that I barely feel it.

And with that, I almost pass out.

As we lay out on our beach towels, I glance over at our creation again, turning my head to the side. “You’re right. If you tilt your head slightly, it’s perfect.”

“I told you. Art is in the eye of the beholder,” he gestures with his hands so dramatically .

“What a masterpiece,” I declare.

It’s just then that two kids come running across the sand, knocking over the entire castle.

“Never mind,” I take back my compliment before Luca and I burst into laughter.

“Shit. That was brutal,” he says.

I add, “I feel like that was a perfect depiction of my life thus far. And then just repeat .”

As our laughter subsides, I pick up my book again, turning on my side and resting on my elbows to block the view of the sun and the greater distraction a few inches away from me.

Although it only works for a few minutes when I feel Luca’s chest press against my back. His warm lips make my neck shiver as they touch my skin while his hand holds onto my hipbone from behind. Without turning around, I try not to close my eyes even though I already feel myself growing wet. “Luca, what if someone sees us?” I whisper.

This is the closest his mostly bare body has touched mine, and it’s making me throw out all the logic in my brain that if he wanted to touch me right here I wouldn’t stop him.

He kisses right below my ear, making me slightly whimper before he replies, “So you want us to leave then?”

I turn around, gasping at how striking his eyes are glowing. “I’ve been wanting for us to leave ever since we got here.”

When he removes himself from our position, I groan inside, almost wishing I didn’t even say anything.

Luca gets up before reaching out his hand toward me, grinning. “What are we still doing here then?” He wraps his arms around my waist with a sparkle in his eyes. “Do you mind if we went back to my apartment instead?” Before I can respond, he positions his nails so that they gently scratch against my back as he adds, “I want you in my bed.”

That’s the kind of love confession that could make you have an orgasm on the spot.

I know I almost just did.

_________

The drive back to his apartment feels like a lifetime’s worth of anticipation.

After taking a shower, we should logically decide on what to eat. Instead, as soon as we’re both standing in the kitchen, Luca looks at me and asks in the most facetious way, “Do you want a glass of water?”

I ignore him and instead cup his face as I go in for a kiss.

He immediately picks me up as my fingers find their favorite spot in his hair while he effortlessly guides us to his room. My heart continues to flutter at the idea that this will be the first time I’ll be in his room . And more importantly in his bed .

Even though the location isn’t what’s important, it doesn’t leave my attention that this setting resembles one I could have experienced when I was younger. And for some reason this only adds to the intensity of the moment.

His room doesn’t disappoint. It’s even cozier than I pictured it would be with a lively surfing photo in the corner that rests nicely against the light beige walls. But it’s nothing compared to his spacious bed that looks so comfortable I fear I won’t ever want to leave it.

This is sadly confirmed as soon as he gently sets me against his soft sheets. Pulling his weight over me, I almost gasp at his scent before fully losing my breath when his lips move to my neck .

As he catches his breath, he asks, “Do I still have permission to touch you?”

It’s like music to my ears the way he says it. It’s polite. And so hot .

I almost pant back, “Yes.”

When he reaches my lips again, he clings in between mine, tasting my lips leisurely, with the perfect hint of his tongue that only leaves me wanting more of it.

Luca’s lips pull away from mine so slowly that it creates a vibration that’s enough to make me groan again. “How about tasting you?”

It’s the way he says it that makes my breath only grow shakier at one of the things I’ve always been the most curious about. “Yes,” I barely whisper before his lips press against mine, strong enough where it makes me moan into his mouth softly.

After he’s removed my t-shirt followed by my shorts, his eyes travel so carefully starting from my chest and down to my ankles. The awe that’s evident on his face is so bewildering to me, considering this level of exposure is so similar to when he’s seen me in a swimsuit. And this alone disrupts my breathing even further.

He grins knowingly. “So these are the underwear that you took me to get you right when we met…”

It’s a cotton bikini cut with tiny cats all over it. So I can only imagine what he’s thinking…

I look down at the fabric and say, “I know. Sexy, right?”

“They’re actually a little too inappropriate if you ask me,” he says.

I snort. “You’re so unserious sometimes.”

“Because you’re so serious all the time?” he deadpans.

As soon as his lips reach the top of my breasts that are exposed from above my bra, I giggle to my dismay. Gratefully, Luca doesn’t laugh and instead takes this as an opportunity to only slow his speed. So devastatingly slow that the ticklish sensation quickly turns into a deeper arousal.

The lower he moves the shakier my breathing gets, to the point where I feel like I’m about to combust when his fingers gently pull down my underwear as my hips move back and forth at the still foreign feeling. He pauses just to look at me, and it’s the sexiest thing that I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. The lust behind his eyes is stronger than any words he could give me right now.

It’s then when I remember what’s also been on my mind since hearing his words from last night. “Luca?”

“Yeah?” He looks at me with the most honest eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” I explain, “and I think I want to be the one that does it first.”

“Of course. Yeah.” He doesn’t even hesitate and instead takes my underwear off the bed and gives it right back to me.

My brows immediately furrow. “No, that’s not what I meant.” I look down at his confused expression as I sigh. “Promise me you won’t laugh.”

His smile quickly disappears when he realizes that I’m not joking. “I promise I won’t laugh. What is it?”

“Would it be weird if you helped me…” I struggle to find the words.

“Just say it.”

“I want you to teach me how to touch myself.” I add, “If you want.” Then cover my face with my hands at how I even decided to suggest this.

I peek through my fingers and notice his smirk. “Give me your hand,” he says .

A thrill zings through me at what we’re about to do, my heartbeat thudding louder than it ever has before. Actually, my entire body reacts to his words except for my mind when it briefly freezes before reaching out my right hand toward him.

Luca doesn’t break eye contact as he moves our hands lower, my focus already dwindling. When he positions my finger right below my clit, he uses his other hand to caress the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Feeling the arousal that’s lingering on my legs, he licks his lips. “Are you usually this wet when you’re alone?”

“I wish.” I try to refrain myself from closing my eyes at how smooth his hands feel over my body.

The curiosity in his eyes isn’t helping keep my focus either. “When you tried fingering yourself before, did you also touch your clit at the same time?”

I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea when his questions are turning me on more than anything I’ve imagined while getting myself off before. “Yes.” I inhale deeply just to be able to finish my sentence. “And it helped a little, but it wasn’t enough for my finger to ever go inside me.”

Luca nods before he places a soft kiss to my inner thigh. “Did you also use a vibrator?”

“No, I’ve never used a vibrator.” I sigh at the reminder of yet another thing I’ve never experienced. “I’m sure at this point you don’t even believe me.” His brows crease. “I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’ve just been scared. Scared to order one, scared to talk to my friends about how to use it, and just—I want to, but I don’t know how to even explain any of this to you Luca.”

His hand on my leg moves over to my fingers, holding them softly. “Jasmine, I don’t need any explanation. I believe everything you’ve told me, and anything that you want to try, I’m here for you if I can be of any help. Not everyone even enjoys using vibrators, but they’re just another thing that could help you when you touch yourself. Oh, and never underestimate lube,” Luca adds facetiously, making me laugh softly, his phrasing helping alleviate my nerves. “Licking your finger before you put it inside you can also help.”

“I can try that.” I lick my index finger while unintentionally meeting his eyes, spotting the intensity yet self-control in them, not imagining I can feel any wetter than I am right now.

He slowly stretches my legs before instructing, “Trace your inner lips. Softly and slowly.”

I do as he says and feel a blissful sensation that’s different from anything I’ve given myself before. Luca must notice my abrupt shift in breathing as he bites down on his lip, watching me. I feel a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. I know I’m already enjoying this, and to see that he’s enjoying it also is making this moment even hotter.

“Have you orgasmed like this before?” he asks, flicking his eyes to mine as I continue.

My breath hitches at the intense eye contact. “Yes,” I admit.

He chuckles, but it comes out low and choked. “What do you need me for then?”

“Trust me, this is better than it’s ever felt.” This is probably attributed to how he’s watching me. As if he can’t wait to step in and show me things that will feel even better than this.

“Good.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, as it seems like he’s trying to regain his composure. “Now use your index finger to rub your clit at the pace that you like.”

A satisfied moan leaves my lips watching Luca’s subtle shift in posture once my finger moves to my clit as he continues, “Take your other hand and move your middle finger closer toward you.” Then my head falls back at the combination of sensations, especially with better access with both of my hands now .

As my moan grows in intensity, he adds, “Try inserting just the tip of your finger while slowing your movements against your clit to a steadier pace.”

“But Luca, I’m going to come—”

“That’s good. It’ll make you wetter.” His throat flexes, seeing my mouth drop open like this for the first time.

When the orgasm hits me a moment later, I try moving my finger closer, but when I feel the spot I can’t get past, my brows furrow and Luca intervenes.

“Take a deep breath.” He looks into my eyes after I’ve calmed down a bit and tells me exactly what I’m worried about. “If you’re worried you’re going to hurt yourself, you’re not.” After seeing my frustrated expression his tone becomes more serious. “Do you want to stop?”

I quickly shake my head. “No.”

He nods and then lifts my hips up gently. “Okay, try again now.” I slowly try moving my finger back to the same spot, and the angle already feels easier to navigate. Then he surprises me when he moves his mouth between my thighs and adds, “Don’t stop until you want to.”

As my finger slowly moves closer, my back immediately arches from his bed when I feel him start to suck on my clit.

“ Luca —” I hum.

If in a single moment you could somehow feel that recognizable, blissful feeling in every corner of your skin, this would be that moment.

He looks up from between my legs and asks so innocently, “Does that feel good?”

He knows that it does, and yet he still asks. So of course, that’s the moment my finger finally pushes inside me as my eyes open wide. I’m in disbelief at how I not only managed to do this, but more so that it actually feels good. I don’t know if it’s the sensation itself or how he’s looking at me as he recommends, “Try curling your finger toward your stomach in slow, steady strokes.”

Still keeping my hips at an elevated angle, he moves his lips onto mine as I continue to moan into his mouth. “I think I’m going to come again,” I finally blurt out.

I’m so distracted by how good this feels that keeping my other finger on my clit must have slipped my mind when he replaces my finger with his, making me whimper at how he manages to find the same rhythm I had a second ago. As my finger also picks up its pace, he suggests, “Ride your finger for a stronger orgasm.”

I do as he says, and I hate how he’s right most of the time.

“Luca,” I call out as the wave of ecstasy runs through me.

When my middle finger is covered in the aftermath of my orgasm shortly after, I wonder what I should do.

Luca must also notice my bewildered expression. “May I?” he offers smugly before he licks my fingers so seductively. “You taste so fucking good.”

I bite down on my bottom lip, tilting my neck up. “I just came twice. Give a girl a break, okay.”

He chuckles. “I believe both of those were from you.”

“Oh right,” I play along. “How are you going to compete with me then?”

“By learning what makes your body feel the best,” he says with a trace of his thumb over my hipbone.

My skin shudders at his words as my confidence builds. With his weight still above me, I place my hand under his t-shirt, feeling his skin immediately cover with goosebumps as my fingers move over his chest. I push my lips against his before slowly pulling them away in the same dangerous rhythm I’ve learned from him, and then moan softly at the combination of the taste of his mouth and now of me on his lips. “And what about your body?” I ask, while my fingers rest along the waistband of his leisure pants.

He softly holds my hand and reassures, “Don’t worry about me. I’m okay.”

I brush the side of his neck. “Well the experience thing is half mine and half about another person, so technically it’s important.” When his brows furrow, I quickly clarify, “Not that I’m saying I want to do something to you just to gain the experience. I genuinely want to.”

He nods. “I just don’t want you to feel like this is too much too quickly.”

“I don’t. I really want to,” I say, moving in to kiss his neck when I feel him growing against my thighs.

My fingers travel back up his shirt to trace his skin when I notice his voice cracks. “Jasmine, really. I’m good.”

I look into his eyes and challenge, “If you’re not going to teach me, do you want someone else to?”

His eyes grow darker at this realization, and it’s enough to turn me on all over again.

Luca’s reaction confirms to me that the same way my fear was holding me back, his has been doing the same for him but for a different reason. Fearing he’s disrespecting me in some way when he’s not.

My theory is only reassured when he flips us over slowly as his hands travel down my back and confidently squeeze my ass, while our lips continue to dance against each other’s. Our movements grow in urgency and intensity as I lift his shirt, wanting to feel more of his skin.

He returns the gesture and proceeds to take off my bra before my next instinct is to tug down his pants. I don’t know what’s come over me when it turns me on that I’m completely naked now while he’s still in his boxers.

With a lust that’s consuming me by the second, my fingers explore regions I’ve never come across, and with each moment, my body craves more .

My mind completely shatters when I finally trace along his v-lines that I couldn’t get out of my head ever since I saw him standing in just that towel the other night.

It’s not just the way his skin feels beneath my fingertips. It’s the way his voice cracks again as he softly calls out my name. “Jasmine.”

My vision has officially gone blurry again. “Why do you say my name like that ?”

“Like what?” Luca gently tilts my chin up and presses his thumb against the center of my bottom lip before he softly drags it down. As if my entire body isn’t about to erupt the way it did minutes ago, he has to repeat, “ Jasmine ?” But this time with a smug glint in his eyes with the intention that he knows exactly what it’s doing to me.

I love when he gets cocky like this. Since it’s so far from his actual personality.

And it’s enough to remind me to not waste another second as I slowly pull down his boxers before gasping at the sight of him.

He’s definitely as turned on as I thought, noting that this is the first time I’ve ever seen a man like this. While the visual alone is making me even more wet, there’s also a trace of another emotion that’s reactivating my nerves a bit. One because of his size and how the fuck that’s going to fit. And more so at the thought of using my mouth, given how it’s always been the act that’s scared me the most when it comes to sex .

Luca must sense my sudden shift back to my previous reservations when he gently says, “Remember, we can stop whenever you want.”

Even though I know I don’t owe it to him to continue, I can’t imagine any other guy being this understanding. And there’s a reason that I’m the one who suggested to continue. I do want to do this. But I’m learning that with new experiences, certain realizations don’t enter your mind until the situation presents itself. Daydreaming how I’d feel after seeing a guy naked in front of me, while I’m also naked in front of him is not something I could have really accurately anticipated.

One thing’s for sure is Luca’s patience. And that alone is really pushing away my doubts. “Maybe I can just start with my hands for now,” I suggest.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he says with such an understanding smile while he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “And before we start any of this, you should know I was tested recently. I’m clean.”

“Oh,” I freeze, realizing I’d completely forgotten that part, but thankful he brought it up. If for nothing else than to put my mind at ease. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course.” He pulls my face down to his and kisses me again before I continue to let my hands wander his body.

“Any tips?” I ask as my fingers creep lower and lower down his stomach. “No pun intended.”

I laugh at myself before he joins in and replies, “The tip is the most sensitive but the length, especially the underside can feel just as good, if not more.” As I’m trying to process everything, he reassures, “There’s no wrong way to do it. So don’t stress about it. ”

I realize that I’m going to be just as lost until I start doing something , so I wing it at the beginning. Besides he’s made it clear that he’s not going to judge me for it, and I believe him.

As soon as my fingers touch him, I think I gasp louder than he does.

It might be a funny thing to think of right now, but I don’t know why I’m so surprised at how pleasant he feels. Smooth and warm. A contrast to how hard he is.

To start off, I repeat the same circular motion he did on me now on his tip. When I hear him groan, I increase my speed a little while using my other hand to stroke his length. Teasingly at first, followed with a firmer hold.

As soon as he lets out a moan that’s noticeably deeper than mine, my first instinct is to ask, “Is this okay?”

“I can’t remember the last time I was this hard,” Luca says with a raspier tone. His chest keeps shifting up and down while my hands continue moving along him. Watching the muscles down his torso flex ever so slightly with each touch I give him sends a new wave of throbbing down my body that I almost miss it when he adds, “I hope that answered your question.”

His neck looks so inviting that I lean in and kiss his skin up toward the side of his ear. As I slowly increase the speed of my strokes, he calls out, “Jasmine—”

My lips curve into a confident smile as I feel his tension build against my hand. His body slightly twitches, on the brink of pleasure, the sounds he’s making continuing to spur me on.

To have someone make you feel all warm and gooey inside is one thing. But to experience giving those very same feelings to another, I have now just learned, is a whole other aphrodisiac. And I might be a little in over my head at the moment, with an adrenaline I have never felt before. Especially when this someone happens to mean this much to me. An intimate moment that seamlessly just faded past fears.

I gasp as he abruptly shrieks, “Fuck.”

A second later, his stomach is splattered with his release. He opens his eyes slowly, and I can tell he’s about to say something. But before he can, I lean down, my hands in the sheets on either side of him.

As my mouth touches his skin, I feel his stomach clench, my legs now shaking. Then I hold his gaze, while brushing my tongue up his torso until there’s no more trace of him lingering there.

I don’t know what just came over me.

Luca looks at me, eyes wide. “If you hadn’t told me, I would have never known this was the first time you did that,” he confesses through shaky breath.

I smirk, immediately feeling my core start to throb again. “You’re really messing with my ego, you know that?” I say as I lay next to him while he faces me.

It feels a bit unusual to lie on his bed both naked while sharing a conversation. But it only feels odd because it feels so normal . So comforting to feel this relaxed next to someone else. The way I never thought I could.

The way Luca’s face is relaxed with satisfaction reminds me how he just helped me do something for myself that used to scare the absolute shit out of me before.

“I can’t believe this just happened,” I admit out loud. He caresses the side of my eye down to the curve of my cheek, and after all this contact, it sends the most innocent flutter across my chest. “It means everything to me.”

I wonder if he even realizes how this was years and years of emotional dancing messing with my mind, thinking that I was always behind on something.

Suddenly the past decade replays in my mind. The uneventful teenage years and twenties that have flown by, further reminding me how my youth slipped away one day, without me even knowing it, and without any experience to show for it. But now lying next to him, I don’t feel behind. On any of it.

Luca softly strokes my waves while twirling the ends. “I’m happy you feel comfortable to share yourself with me like this. That means a lot to me.”

Butterflies dance in my lower belly at his words. Feeling emotional, but more so in a cathartic way for holding onto this weight for so long, I reveal, “This has just taken a big toll on my mental health for years. And I just feel—” I sigh. “So. Fucking. Relieved.”

“I’m really happy for you, Jasmine,” Luca says so genuinely that it almost makes my chest ache. “I can see how much this means to you, so I can’t imagine how you actually feel about it.”

I move forward to kiss him, but he leans in to initiate it first, making my heart flutter all over again .

As the physical intensity between us lessens, the emotional proximity heightens, surprising me when I thought this part wouldn’t feel as heavy on me. Since now I’m reminded there’s someone that means this much to me that I still could potentially lose.

Luca’s touch distracts me as he caresses my side. “So do I make a good teacher?” He smolders obnoxiously.

I’m about to laugh, but then I’m reminded of my remaining doubts. “I’m going to be really honest with you here, but how are you going to fit inside me?” His lips start to curve. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m not smiling.” He’s definitely trying not to smile .

“Yes you are.” I try to cover my smile, but now I also can’t. “I’m maybe just a little freaked out about it. Especially since I barely even managed to put one finger inside myself just now.”

“We’ll work our way up to that,” Luca says encouragingly with a kiss to the side of my hair. If I’m trying not to come across as anxious then I’m doing a pretty awful job at it. “You know, we could just stop here? Even though you’re leaving soon, it doesn’t mean that we have to do more than this.”

“No, I want to do this before I go,” I reassure because I do. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Remembering how he previously told me that having more experience doesn’t remove all of your nerves, I make sure to ask, “Are you also ready to do this with me?”

“I am.” His eyes are so sincere as he traces my cheek gently that it almost hurts how raw this feels.

There’s too many highlights from the evening to pinpoint, but the last thing I remember was him pulling me in closely as I fell asleep on his shoulder, so consumed by his cozy scent not just on him or his sheets, but now also on me .

_________

I expected to have a more peaceful dream after all that. It’s actually quite shocking to hear a loud thud continuing on a loop. Except when I jolt awake, Luca also looks as perplexed as I do, when I realize that it’s not a dream and that someone’s knocking on the door of his apartment.

“Who do you think it could be?” I ask, while scrambling to find my clothes.

“I have no idea.” Luca hastily puts his shirt and pants back on and glances over at me. “You can wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” I say as he looks at me with a hesitant expression .

As we walk down the hallway, Luca recognizes the fuzzy yet loud voice from outside. “Luca!”

It’s Enrique. But his voice sounds different. Shaky. Exhausted. And maybe even a bit broken.

He continues to knock before Luca opens the door.

My chest tightens at the sight of Enrique’s face. He seems just as frazzled as I suspected, except he’s also drunk. Drunk enough to not care that I’m also here before he stumbles right past us and into the kitchen, immediately slumping onto the floor.

When we join him by the counter, Luca kneels down and asks, “Enrique, what happened?”

Enrique just mutters for a few moments before he gazes blankly over at the living room. “Why can’t I do any of it right?”

Luca moves forward a bit. “What?”

“Why don’t any of them know?” Enrique’s brows crease as he leans back against the wall. “How didn’t she know?” He presses his hands to his forehead in frustration.

“Who?” Luca asks with a growing confusion.

Enrique glances up at me and says, “Jasmine.”

I freeze.

Luca’s chest rises as he leans back before he clears his throat. “Didn’t know…what?”

“That I was interested.” Enrique shakes his head. “That I wasn’t just messing around.” Before Luca can ask a follow up, Enrique looks at me and says, “It’s not just about you.” He almost stutters, “There has to be something I keep doing wrong.”

I want to interject and say something, but no words escape my mouth. Deep down, I know it’s not my place. I know there’s nothing I can do or say in this moment.

Luca leans forward and reassuringly holds Enrique’s shoulder. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re—”

Enrique interrupts with sarcasm, “I’m not ?” An angry glint builds in his eyes. “Then why does every girl think I’m just fucking with them?” I almost shudder when he glances away from us both only to say quietly, “Why does my dad think this? I don’t get it…he was so happy after the wedding.” Enrique pauses, his face puzzled. “He was proud of me .” The way his voice cracks on the word “proud” sends a jolt through my heart. I feel it deep into my bones.

As Luca sits next to Enrique, I go into the kitchen to bring them both glasses of water. Not only to help Enrique rehydrate from the alcohol in his body and relax both of their nerves, but even more so because I don’t know how to help, yet desperately want to.

I thought I would have been more affected by how Enrique showed up here without warning this evening. An evening that will now hold a lot of meaning for me, with the many firsts that I experienced not even a few hours ago.

But the knowing tone of Enrique’s voice, the frustration consuming his face, and most of all his mention of his father, brought me back to a place I know all too well. One that I know is so difficult one conversation could never quite translate its meaning. And most of all its pain.