Kissing her for the first time was pure sweet nectar.

We had met when we both reached for the same pumpkin spice latte and found my name. I gave her the latte with my number added.

Two dates and many conversations later, we were at her door.

She turned and looked up at me with those soft brown eyes, licking those full lips.

Moments later, my hand was on her throat, our lips pressing, hers parting to welcome my tongue.

Pulling me across the threshold she tore at the buttons of my blouse, whispering my name, “Olivia.”