It was a way for our parents to prove to the world that they were good and benevolent, and that my younger sister and I were well cared for. As we got a bit older, the parties stopped but the expensive gifts didn’t. I was given a Porsche for my sixteenth birthday. Caroline received a Mercedes convertible. When we both reached adulthood, we got access to our trust funds and only the impersonal birthday card sent from my mother’s or father’s secretary.

As per usual this year, I got a card from Linda and a card two days late from my parents. Caroline called me on my birthday while I was at work, and she then put Ally on the phone, who sang “Happy Birthday” to me. Until today, that had been my favorite birthday memory.

But as much as I love my niece, and she was beyond adorable singing to me on the phone, I’m sorry…Sela’s gift was infinitely better.

Not just because it was sex, because, hello…sex. Sex is amazing in and of itself. Sex with Sela is beyond compare. Taking her bent over my dining room table, listening to her little moans and feeling her push back against me so I’d give it to her deeper? That was absolutely mind-blowing.

But that’s not why it’s my favorite.

It’s my favorite because while I’ve only known Sela for a week, I’ve learned enough to know that what she did tonight was way out of her comfort zone.

Sela, the frugal student, who is happier to have a tea kettle from me than a two-thousand-dollar Louis Vuitton purse. Sela, the confident woman, who is sexier in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt than in Victoria’s Secret lingerie. Sela, the passionate introvert, who has yet to try to trap me with sexually overt moves and promises.

When I walked in tonight, saw her standing there in that ribbon, I did more than start to get hard for her. I felt a shift in my skepticism about the nature of women and the lengths they’ll go to get what they want. I’ve seen firsthand how some women can take without ever giving a single thing in return, and still think they deserve more. But Sela stood before me, hesitantly offering me her body, not to get anything in return, but merely because she felt bad I had not celebrated my birthday.

Sela, the inexperienced, put herself out there with all the risk on her shoulders and the only motive to her plan that I have something just for myself.

It simply touched me.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” I hear from behind me, and turn to find Sela standing there in her normal sleep attire, her hair pulled on top of her head in a messy bunch and damp around her neck from the shower she just had. A simple black tank top and black cotton panties, skin dewy-looking from some peach-smelling lotion she slathers on, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Of course, she comes to bed each night wearing something similar, and each night she ends up naked by my hands.

I wonder if there will ever come a day where she just gives in to the naked part and ditches the cute but sexy sleepwear. Will it happen this week, since my birthday surprise shows she’s coming out of her shell a bit? Or maybe it will take a few more weeks to get truly comfortable? A few months?

I stop my brain in midthought and just blink at Sela in confusion. Am I actually considering more than our planned month together?

The immediate thought doesn’t strike fear in my heart.

Interesting.

“I cut us each a slice of cake,” I tell her as I grab a fork from the drawer and hand it to her, followed by a plate filled with chocolate and raspberry—gag—goodness. “And I didn’t mind cleaning up the kitchen. You went to a lot of effort on my behalf.”

“Yeah, but it’s your birthday celebration, so you shouldn’t have to do anything tonight,” she points out as she dips the fork into the cake. She puts it in her mouth, closes her eyes, and moans. “I love chocolate and raspberry together.”

And fuck…that little moan. So goddamn sexy it makes me want knock the plate out of her hand and drag her to the floor.

Instead, I clear my throat and pick up the slice I had cut for myself, intent on eating the cake without gagging. “So what do you want to do the rest of the evening?”

Sela raises her eyebrows in surprise, because that is an unusual question. Our normal evenings are I come home, we go out to eat or eat in, and then we fuck for hours until we fall asleep.

“Whatever you want to do,” she says while sinking her fork back into the cake. “It’s your birthday party.”

I break off a tiny piece of the cake with the least raspberry on it and scoop it up. “Well, normally I’d say let’s get naked and get in bed, but we do that pretty much every night. How about we just hang out?”

I can tell this completely stuns Sela, because her face clouds with skepticism. I smile at her and put the fork into my mouth, pull in the offensive-tasting crap, and chew. Sela watches me and her eyes narrow, getting ready to call bullshit on me for just wanting to hang out and not just get to the hot and dirty fucking.

“You hate the cake, don’t you?” she accuses, sex completely forgotten.

I stare at her midchew and force a swallow. “What? No, of course not.”

“You totally hate it,” she says while pointing a finger at me. “I can tell by the look on your face.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Oh yeah,” she fires back with a mischievous grin. “Then eat some more. Right now. In fact, eat the whole thing.”

God, she’s fucking cute.

I grin back at her and turn to set the plate down on the counter. “Okay, I hate raspberry. You got me.”

She winces and lifts her shoulders in apology. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure what you’d like and I just thought everyone on this planet liked chocolate and raspberry together. Are you sure you’re not an alien?”

“I like chocolate just fine. Vanilla or even strawberry. But raspberry, no.” I shudder just to prove my point.

“You’re so weird,” she says, and takes another bite.

“So, want to just hang out tonight?” I ask her, enjoying this little interchange.

“No sex?” she asks to clarify.

“Of course there’s going to be sex,” I scoff at her. “But not until later. We can watch TV, listen to music, play cards, go out for a drink. Whatever you want.”

Sela takes one more bite of cake, chews, then swallows. She hands me the plate and says, “You take that, and I’m going to go brush my teeth so you don’t have to taste raspberry on me.”