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Only one way to find out. ”
    Hmmm, not exactly what she'd planned to say to him, but it's what fell out of her mouth. When he lifted his head, she simply stared at him. Tried to focus on his warm eyes, on the laugh lines that were at the corners. She was suddenly consumed with the thought of letting him take her. It was now or never, she truly felt. She had to do this, she had to become that girl .
    “Careful now, angel cake. Don't write checks your body can't cash,” he said, looking at her naked chest. She willed her body to stop trembling.
    “There you go again, assuming things about me. Assumed I wouldn't come here. Assumed I'd go home. Assumed I wouldn't have sex with you. I wonder what else you'll be wrong about tonight,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.
    “You've never done something like that before.”
    He stated, didn't question. She nodded.
    “Never. I've thought about it, but was never brave enough to try.”
    “Then this is a bad idea.”
    “Hmmm, I'm sure one of the other guys here won't think so.”
    “Katya, I'm serious. No more competing. That's a big step, a big deal, and will more than likely be uncomfortable as fuck your first time. You should do it with someone you trust,” he told her.
    That moment. That's how she knew he wasn't a bad guy. She was naked under him, she'd just let him fuck her brains out on a booth in his sex club. He could've done literally just about anything he wanted to her, and she was offering it all up on a silver platter, and he was still looking out for her. Liam was a nice guy. A good guy. A trustworthy guy.
    Also, if she stopped now, she knew it would never happen.
    I'm so tired of being the good one.
    “I want to do it with someone who knows what they're doing,” she whispered, then she lifted her head, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “And someone who will make me feel good. Please, Liam. Please make me feel good. ”
    He was a good guy, but Liam had his limits, and a naked woman begging him to fuck her up the ass was apparently one of them.
    He was slow as he eased off of her, his hands gentle as they rolled her over. He carefully lifted her head and put a throw pillow under her cheek. His hands were heavy on her skin, almost massaging her as he ran them from her shoulders to her butt, then back up again. She was a little tipsy and it felt amazing, almost lulling her to sleep.
    Then she heard a noise and when she turned her head, she saw that he was pulling one of the ottomans out from under the table. They were actually drawers, though what was in their depths, she couldn't be sure. She caught a glimpse of what looked like tubes and bottles. He rummaged around in the drawer, then pulled his hand free. He was behind her after that, out of sight, so she couldn't be sure what he'd grabbed, but when something cold hit her backside, she had a good idea.
    “On a scale of sober to black-out, how drunk are you?” he asked. She opened her mouth to answer, then choked on her own words as she felt his finger between her cheeks, smoothing up and down along the line.
    “Like a four? Pleasantly tipsy?” she finally managed to get out.
    “I just want to make sure this isn't the alcohol talking,” he said.
    “It's not, I swear, I didn't even drink that much before I came. I … I feel like a different person here. I want to be a different person. I want to try -”
    There was no managing words that time around. He had a finger inside her. Inside a place no one had ever been before, a place she herself tried to avoid. The lubrication he was using was cool and slippery, but gave him easy access. She was shocked that it didn't feel at all gross, or disgusting, or painful. It felt … interesting .
    “Then you came to the right place,” he chuckled, and a second finger joined the first, turning interesting feeling into slightly awkward feeling. “The alcohol will help you relax, too.”
    She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that – her with her face