"You mean aside from impairing my judgment so that I lost my virginity to some really hot guy I met at a frat party, got knocked-up and never got the guy's name because I am a complete and total bitch and now that he’s here I feel like I am so out of my league whenever he’s around because I have zero experience with this shit?" I rambled.

Carter stopped right in front of me and gave me a crooked grin.

“You think I’m hot?”

I rolled my eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood and completely gloss over my nervous admission.

"You know, you're absolutely right. That tequila is a real ass**le. Go ahead and kick the shit out of it. You might as well finish off the beer, too. I saw him looking at you funny."

I laughed at the ridiculousness of this conversation. I wasn’t drunk but I was pleasantly buzzed enough from our earlier game of Truth or Truth to be able to see the humor in this situation. When I stopped laughing, he reached out and brushed a piece of hair off of my cheek that had escaped my pony tail and it reminded me so much of the night we met that I let out a small sigh.

"Let's get something straight here. You are not a bitch. I don't blame you for anything that you did. I'm not going to lie and say that it didn't totally suck ass to wake up the next morning and not have you there with me and then spend five years wondering if I had imagined you. But I would never think you were a bitch for doing what you did," he said as he inched closer. "I wasn't lying before when I said I would have done things very different with you that night," he said softly as he moved so close to me that our chest and thighs were touching. I swallowed roughly as he brought his hand up and rested it on my hip.

"I would have kissed you more," he said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth.

"I would have held your body up against mine longer so I could feel every inch of you," he whispered against my cheek as he wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me up tighter against him.

His hand that rested on my hip slid up the side of my body. It grazed up my ribs and brushed against the side of my breast until his palm was flat over my heart.

"I would have touched you everywhere and took the time to feel your heart beat against my hand."

I licked my lips and tried to control my breathing. God, I loved the way he smelled, the way he spoke and his hands on me. How had I lived so long without these things?

“Most of all, I would never have taken even one sip of alcohol that night so that every single moment with you would have been etched into my brain and the memory of how your skin felt against my hands would be clear as a bell.”

I was certain he could hear the pounding of my heart echoing through the room. I knew he could feel how fast it was beating with each word he spoke.

"Fuck, Claire," he muttered. "Just being close to you drives me crazy."

He bent his knees slightly and then pushed up against me so I could feel exactly what he was talking about. Both my hands flew to his shoulders in an effort to hold on and pull him closer. My one leg automatically lifted to wrap around his waist and bring him closer to me. His lips ghosted over my neck, and I was pretty sure I moaned. When he was back by my ear he whispered, "If this is too much, too soon, just tell me to stop and I will."

Was it too soon? Was I acting like a complete slut right now rubbing myself all over him? I was a mother for f**k's sake.

A mother that had never been laid properly and was horny as f**k.

"If you stop, I will straight up murder your ass," I whispered as his lips found their way to mine and connected.

No sooner had our mouths collided when I felt his tongue gently push its way past my lips. I slid my tongue against his, and he moaned into my mouth, pushing his hips into me harder. I was tingling all over like in some cheesy romance novel. My br**sts were heaving and my loins were quivering.

I HAD QUIVERING LOINS!

I felt like I was going to explode if he didn't touch me. I wanted him to touch me so much it almost hurt. I am so not good at dirty talk. Just the thought of saying "touch my *ack* pu**y" made me want to cringe. I could try "let your fingers do the walking". Or maybe "put your digits in my divot."

Focus Claire!

Oh my God his tongue was like magic. Where the hell did he learn to kiss? I bet his dad taught him.

Wait no. That sounded gross.

Jesus, I was turning into a puddle of goo and so was my underwear.

TOUCH MY VAGINA!

If I screamed it in my head maybe he'd figure it out. His tongue circled mine and his hand went down to my ass to slide me up and down against his hardness.

PUT YOUR HAND ON MY VAG!

My leg slid down his hip and the feel of the rough denim of his jeans against my bare thigh made me whimper. He walked us backwards and pushed me up against the wall of the storage room, deepening the kiss and slowing it down at the same time. My hands were clutching the hair at the back of his neck so hard I think I pulled some out by the roots.

His hand that was palming my ass moved away and I almost yelled in frustration until I felt him slide it around to the front of my thigh and slowly inch it up towards the hem of my shorts.

OH MY GOD HE'S GOING TO TOUCH MY VAGINA!

Did I remember to put on sexy underwear and not period panties? You know what I'm talking about. The ginormous granny panties that you only wore when the crimson tide is flowing. The ones you’d never allow man nor beast to see.

He broke the kiss as his fingers snuck under the leg of my shorts and – Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus and the wise guys, I just remembered I put a Victoria's Secret thong on when I got dressed earlier.