And that was it.

We made out, and he didn’t take it any further.

At all.

Him being him, sweet, handsome and supportive, tall, strong, funny and a great kisser, it was driving me crazy.

I needed more.

Like, lying in his bed Thursday night (and it was worse last night) restless, needy, fighting the desire to go out and jump him on the couch kind of crazy.

He was taking it slow. He knew I was shy. And that was sensitive and thoughtful. I shouldn’t only be cool with that. I should be happy he was like that.

But not even feeling me up?

“Is it too tight?” Nancy asked. “Do they need to let it out?”

Since a bra was also impossible with this dress, if they let it out, with my bazungas, I’d be flopping all over the place.

“I need the support, Nancy,” I told her.

“Yeah.” Lottie was now standing by her mom, also tipping her head this way and that. “But is it comfortable?”

Actually, it was.

“Yeah.” I shifted my focus back to the mirror. “And it’s gorgeous.”

So gorgeous, it fit me so well, showed so much cleavage and leg, I wondered what Axl would think of me in this dress.

I also wondered, since it looked like I’d be able to do so, if I took that dress home with me that day, put it on, and modeled it for him, if Axl might pounce on me in that dress.

Of course, if he did that it might require cleaning and/or pressing.

But at least he’d pounce on me.

I mean, again, we hadn’t been together for years, but we also hadn’t been together for hours.

And again, he was sweet, touchy, funny, affectionate, teasing, a great kisser … hot.

I loved all that.

But he needed to fuck me.

“You don’t look happy,” Lottie noted.

“I’m happy,” I told her. “It’s fantastic. I blew it with a late fitting, but it doesn’t need alterations, so you don’t have to worry about that anymore, and I don’t have to worry about worrying you. So it’s all good.”

“Then why don’t you look like it’s good?” Lottie returned. “And don’t blow sunshine, Hatz. If you need something changed, we’ll get it sorted. It’s not like the wedding is tomorrow. We have a couple of weeks.”

“Honestly, it’s great.”

Nancy leaned to her daughter and murmured, “She doesn’t look like it’s great.”

“It really is,” I asserted.

They stared at me.

Heck.

I was worrying them, and I’d done enough of that.

And this was Lottie’s time, prep for Lottie’s big event, so worry should not be part of the equation.

“Axl hasn’t had sex with me yet,” I blurted.

Nancy’s brows shot up and her eyes closed and stayed closed for a second before she opened them.

Lottie’s head jerked and her tumble of blonde hair jerked with it.

And every single female ass on the couches behind me got up and walked to stand in front of me.

“What?” Ryn.

“Really?” Pepper.

“Whoa.” Evie.

Jet said nothing, just studied me.

I looked at Lottie. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

“It’s about you now.” She lifted a hand my way, shook her head and said, “And don’t. I don’t mind. Honest to God.” She dropped her hand and asked, “You’ve been living with that man now three days, and he hasn’t done you?”

“We make out. A lot,” I told her, or more aptly, all of them. “He touches me. A lot. He’s very affectionate. All the time. It’s sweet. He kisses me before he drops me off at work. We make out in the doorway of his room before I go to bed in his bed. He sleeps on the couch. And last night, after dinner, before work, while watching TV, we cuddled on the same couch and eventually started necking. But he hasn’t even tried for second base.”

“What?” Ryn.

“Really?” Pepper.

“Whoa.” Evie.

“I know.” Me.

“I’m outta here.” Mag, from where he stood behind the couches.

Mag then took off.

“Have you tried for second base?” Lottie asked.

“Second base?” I parroted, confused.

“Gone for his package. A man gets the message real quick when you grab his dick,” Lottie explained.

That was the girl take on second base?

That seemed a third-base maneuver, totally.

“I’m just going to … tell them we’re good and we’re leaving with the dress,” Nancy murmured, lips tipped up, as she walked away.

“Uh …” was my answer to Lottie’s question.

“She hasn’t,” Ryn said under her breath to Pepper.

“I’m kind of …not assertive like that,” I shared.

Lottie put a hand to her hip, hitched out that hip, and returned, “Well, sister, you wanna get laid, you better get assertive. You led that boy on a long, drawn-out chase. No shade. Just sayin’. But translation for a dude with a brain and a keenly honed capacity for sensitivity who’s into the chick who led him on that chase, he’s not gonna jump you, push you or pressure you. He’s gonna read you and wait for you to give him the next signal. You gotta give him the signal, Hatz.”

“You do.” Ryn.

“Totes.” Pepper.

“Absolutely.” Evie.

Jet again said nothing to me.

Though she did to Lottie.

“It isn’t that easy for everybody, Lottie.”

It so wasn’t.

I mean, I loved kissing him. A lot.

But I wanted more.

A lot more.

Especially after all that kissing.

I just didn’t know how to communicate that mostly because I thought I already was.

I was participating in our makeout sessions—avidly—and if memory served, I didn’t think it was me—not once—that ended them.

If you were too shy to speak the words, how else did you tell a guy you were ready for more, outside grabbing his dick?

Jet turned to me. “Take your time. If he’s worth it, he’ll wait.”

Ryn made a noise that sounded like she was being strangled.

I homed in on that. “What?”

“Well, just saying, he’s been waiting awhile.”