Rachel wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised when she wrapped her fist in Puck's shirt and dragged him toward the foyer. She stopped short in the tiled entryway and motioned to his feet.

"Shoes," she said breathlessly.

"What? Huh? Oh…" he replied, as he realized what she meant.

Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at the sight of him hopping on one foot, struggling to pull off the black Converse Chucks he wore, but right then she just wanted him to hurry. He finally managed to get both shoes off, and he bolted up the stairs behind her. He caught her just short of her bedroom door, and snagged her by the waist. She turned, and let him capture her mouth in his. She was standing on her tip-toes, with her arms wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him closer to her. Dropping his hands from her waist, he grabbed her thighs and easily lifted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and moved her mouth down to his neck.

"Jesus, Rach…" he mumbled, and moved forward to grasp the door handle.

"The one with star…" she said into his neck.

"Yeah, got that, thanks…"

He swung the door open, and Rachel knew he was headed in a beeline for the bed. Crossing the room in four long strides, he lowered both their bodies onto the frilly bedspread. Reaching up, he untangled her arms from his neck, and pulled himself back until there was about two feet of distance between their upper bodies.

"Jesus, Rach… slow down a sec."

She didn't want to slow down. She had no idea what he'd done to her in the kitchen, but whatever it was it had set off a shower of fireworks inside her. Rachel had never felt anything like it before, and all she knew is that she wanted more.

"Fireworks," she murmured, "red and gold sparkly fireworks."

Puck laughed. "Fireworks, huh?"

She nodded dreamily.

Puck's face turned serious.

"Hey Rach? I.. uh…How far have…" he stuttered.

"Hmmmm?" she said, with her eyes closed.

"Rach, look at me."

She opened her eyes, still smiling.

"Look, I... um… I'm pretty sure that you've never…"

He looked so uncomfortable that she propped herself up on her elbows and studied his face carefully.

"What I'm trying to say… is… um…"

"Are you trying to ask if I'm a virgin?"

"Well, no, I pretty much guessed that, I'm trying to ask about other stuff…"

She looked confused, "What other stuff?"

"The stuff in between…"

"Define 'stuff'."

He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"I assume you're referring to the various stages of foreplay?" she said.

He nodded uncomfortably.

"And you'd like to know how much previous experience I've had with these activities?"

He shrugged.

"Well, though I've read books on the subject matter, other than kissing, and anything you and I have done together, I haven't actually had any practical experience in that arena. Though given the circumstances, it appears that that may change."

He was grinning down at her. "Books, Berry? You've read books on the subject?"

"Well of course," she said curtly, "one should always strive to be prepared for any situation that may arise."

He winced when she said 'arise', but he continued teasing her. "Did any of these books mention red and gold sparkly fireworks?"

She considered his question carefully. "No," she said slowly, "I don't think so. I'm surprised by that though, it seems like an important thing to mention." Looking up at him earnestly, she asked, "Do you know what caused them? Because I'm really not sure, we were just sitting there talking, and then 'Wham!'"

"Um… yeah… I think I do."

A wave of relief washed over her. "Oh thank goodness, because I really did enjoy that."

He had that look of pain on his face again, and he carefully unwrapped her legs from around his waist.

"Bathroom?" he asked.

She pointed to the door leading to her attached bath. He glanced between the door and the bed, and winced again. Leaning down, he gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Be right back."

Rachel sat up and scooted herself back on the bed. Leaning her head back against the headboard she tried to make sense of everything that had just happened. Had she really just told him that she'd read a book about foreplay? She had, of course, read several books on the subject, well, on sex in general really, but they definitely covered the topic. Plus she was secretly addicted to trashy romance novels, even though her fathers disapproved. So she did have a vague idea of the 'other stuff' he'd been talking about. It's just that before now, it had all seemed, well, kind of gross actually. But when Puck touched her, when he kissed her… she found herself wanting more, and suddenly she'd understood the appeal of some of the things she had read about.

Not all of them, mind you, some of them still seemed pretty far fetched. There had been an entire chapter in one of the books devoted to one particular act that she was pretty sure could damage her vocal chords, so she'd have to make sure to avoid that one.

Rachel's biggest problem was that she couldn't think clearly around him. She would set clear limits for herself, but once he started touching her, she forgot all about them. It seemed odd to her that he was always the one to pull back, or slow down. Then again, he certainly had more experience in this area than she did, so maybe he was just less affected by it. She did think it was very sweet of him to take her feelings into consideration.

She glanced toward the bathroom door, and wondered what was taking him so long. They had fireworks to discuss, she thought with a smile.

Just then the little pink rectangle on her nightstand beeped to alert her of an incoming text message.