Page 52 of Never Too Late

“That doesn’t count, then. Because for all you know, you might be a natural at it. It has to be something you’ve tried, and that you failed spectacularly at.”

“I lost you,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t very good at that.”

It wasn’t so much the words that got to me, but Cillian’s crestfallen expression when he said it, like he still hadn’t fully come to terms with how badly he’d botched things between us. “Well…” I said cheerfully, determined to banish that haunted look from his face. “The good news on that front is that I’m not dead, and that we’re here together now.”

“Yeah,” Cillian agreed, his eyes soft.

We cleaned up together, the specter of the night ahead with all of its unanswered questions hanging over us. It was Cillian who plucked up the courage to lay things on the line first. “If I stay tonight,” he said slowly, “things will happen. So if that’s not okay, tell me to find a hotel.”

“Things?” I teased.

“Sexual things,” Cillian said with a glint in his eye. “Things we’ve only been able to talk about over the past few weeks and not put into action.”

“You’ve made a lot of promises,” I pointed out. “If you stay, you’re going to have a lot to live up to. I think you even promised me multiple orgasms in one night.”

Cillian gave an embarrassed little smile. “I didn’t say that. My cock said that.”

I dried the last plate and placed it back in the cupboard. “The moral of that story is not to let your cock do all the talking.”

Cillian laughed. “I’ll try to bear that in mind next time I embark on an odyssey of online sexual encounters.” There was a long pause while he emptied the water out of the sink and watched it swirl down the drain. “Seriously, though. I need an answer.”

I counted to ten before responding, trying to ensure that I wasn’t doing what I’d just accused Cillian of and thinking with a part of my anatomy not equipped for measured consideration. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Don’t you?”

Cillian propped his hip against the sink and turned to face me. “That’s not a question for me to answer. Only one person can make that decision, and that’s you.”

“I already told you I would have slept with you on the second night you were in Paris.”

“Which is why I want you to think carefully about it. I can wait as long as it takes for you to be sure.”

I imagined the scenario he’d painted for a moment. Me, sending him to a hotel, and then the two of us spending the night in the same city, but apart, after so many nights of telling each other exactly what we wanted to do to each other online. It would be ridiculous, and I couldn’t promise it wouldn’t end in one of us video calling the other. “Stay,” I said. “I want you to.”

Cillian scrutinized my face for a few seconds in a way that said he was searching for something before nodding, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “In that case, can I take you to bed?”

“Yes, please.”

When he held out his hand, I took it without hesitation, the two of us making our way toward the bedroom in a fashion thatwouldn’t have been out of place in a Jane Austen novel, only minus the breeches. It was very different to the way we’d crashed against the wall in a conflagration of heat and desire the first time we’d ever had sex. Different was good, though. Different was what we needed.

Chapter Nineteen

With Quasimodo safely outside the bedroom and the door firmly shut so he couldn’t sneak in and disturb us, I turned to face Cillian. “Don’t be too gentlemanly.”

“Define gentlemanly.”

“I’m not made of glass.”

His eyes slid over me in an X-rated perusal that left very little to the imagination. “You’re right,” he said. “No glass. Just flesh and bone and muscle.” His gaze lingered on the thick line of my erection pressing against the front of my jeans. “There might be some parts that are as hard as glass, though. Maybe even as hard as diamond.”

My heart thrummed behind my ribcage, heat washing over me in a wave that threatened to burn me alive if I didn’t get it under control. Was there such a thing as being too aroused? Present circumstances would say it was entirely possible.

Cillian pulled me against him and I melted, fingers wrapping around his biceps to give myself some stability. “This is stupid,” I said with a laugh.

“What is?”

“We’ve had sex before. Many times… in person… online. So it’s crazy that this feels like the first time.”

“It’s not crazy,” Cillian said, his breath warm against my neck and his hands moving in slow circles over my back that somehow managed to be just as soothing as they were arousing. “I feel the same. I want it to be the first time. I got it so wrong before.”

“It wasn’t wrong,” I insisted.

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