“Straight guys kissing,” I said, rubbing my hand on his chest. “What’s gay about that?”
Tristan put his hand on my arm. “Why don’t you show me?”
It all started when I got dumped. Tanya also told me I was the worst kisser she’d ever been with. When I told my best friend, he offered to help me practice. Strong, cocky Tristan claims he’s a fantastic kisser. And after I give in to his suggestion, well…I can’t disagree. And now I’m lost in a whole new set of emotions.
Suddenly the kissing isn’t enough. I can’t stop thinking about Tristan, about his lips, his body, his taste. I want his lips on mine again, yes, but I want more. I want Tristan to take me into the bedroom and teach me everything I’ve been fantasizing about.
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