In the car on the way to our destination, I cannot take my eyes off of Braxton, and he cannot take his hands off of me. He is polite, always. Careful of my modesty and boundaries, but I don’t mind. He can touch me wherever he likes. One arm is wrapped around my waist where his fingers rub and caress me through my shirt. His other hand is on my knee where it massages up my thigh. He kisses me frequently, and I can’t help but feel like the most important woman in the world.

The trip ...