Before We Were Strangers by Renee Carlino

his shirt over my head. I was wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. I handed him the shirt. “There you go.”
    He blinked. “Um . . .”
    “Kiss me, Matt.”
    He kicked the door shut with his foot. “Are you drunk?”
    “Kiss me.”
    I wrapped my arms around his neck. His hand went to my lower back as he leaned in and then, finally, he kissed me.
    At first the kiss was slow and delicate, but then we moved faster, tongues twisting, hands roaming. Our skinned burned with heat, and everything felt more urgent. We kissed and kissed, and soon I was aching for him to touch me everywhere.
    I fumbled with his belt.
    “I got it,” he said, kicking his shoes off. While I removed my bra and panties, he took off his jeans. I moved my hand to the front of his boxers. “Will you?” I asked.
    “Will I what?” he said, breathlessly.
    “Have sex with me?”
    He cupped my neck and tilted my head up to look him in the face. There was pure reverence in his eyes. “You want it to be me?”
    I nodded.
    He leaned in and kissed me again and then his mouth moved to my ear. “Grace, I have never wanted anything more in my entire life than to be inside of you right now.” Nerves shot through my legs and arms just thinking of him inside of me. “But we’re not going to do this when you’ve been drinking so much. Trust me. Okay?”
    “I feel brave, though.”
    “I know, but you don’t want to be numb.”
    “Don’t I?” I whispered.
    “No, baby.”
    I knew he was right. “Okay.”
    He held me to his chest for a few seconds before breaking away. I reached out and touched him through his boxers. “We can do other stuff.”
    I saw the muscles in his neck move as he swallowed. “Get into bed,” he said, and I did. He slipped his boxers off. It was the first time I saw him like that, naked and vulnerable, and so painfully turned on that I actually felt sorry for him. It wasn’t the first penis I had seen, but under the circumstances it was definitely the most shocking. It scared me a little. I couldn’t believe I was practically begging him for it a second earlier.
    When he saw my terrified expression, he said, “Don’t worry, it’ll feel good when you’re ready.”
    He slid into bed behind me, spooning me. Our bodies were hot as we pressed against each other. He brushed my hair to one side and kissed my shoulder. I shivered and then relaxed into his arms and closed my eyes.
    He held one hand around my waist and the other caressed the sides of my breast as he continued trailing kisses across the back of my neck.
    “Why were you upset with me the other day? I meant to ask you,” he whispered. I shrugged. “Tell me.”
    “Because Carey and Jason said everyone in the photo department has an orgy in the dark room on Fridays.”
    His chest rumbled with laughter. “That is ridiculous. I’ll take you to the darkroom this Friday. There’s no one in there except a couple of art nerds, like me.”
    “Why would they say that?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe it’s a campus urban myth.”
    I relaxed further into his body. The hand around my waist gripped my hip and squeezed. “You have to tell me what’s going on in your head.”
    “At the moment, nothing. Your hands are making me brain dead.” I giggled, but Matt wasn’t laughing.
    “What’s going on with Pornsake?”
    “His name is Dan.”
    “What’s going on with Dan the man?”
    “Nothing. He’s nice. He’s my teacher. He bought me a bow and offered to buy me dinner. End of story. Oh, and he’s forming this orchestra to go abroad, all over Europe. He want’s me to do it.”
    I felt Matt stiffen. “For how long?”
    “A year and a half . . . but I’m not going. It’s too long and I don’t want to postpone grad school.”
    He kissed my ear. “Okay.” I felt him relax again.
    His hand snaked down farther and I gasped when he made contact with the most sensitive part of my body. He made slow, deliberate circles at first, gently, and then he added more