"I remember," I whispered, breathless and sagging nearly face down onto the counter and drooling with pleasure. My knees knocked against the shelf beneath the counter, and later I hoped there would be bruises. I wanted the shape of his hands on my hips, his mouth on my neck. I wanted to crawl inside of him and never leave.

"I want to see you," I complained, laughing breathlessly. "This is really hot, but we should've done this upstairs."