Forbidden First Times: A Contemporary Romance Collection

by Sofia T Summers

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I told her. “If you had taken a moment to think about this before coming over, I’m sure you wouldn’t have done it.”

  I thought my words would inspire another wounded look, but instead, Annie smiled. She walked closer and giggled softly, then stretched up on her tiptoes, and before I could stop her, planted a soft, gentle kiss on my lips.

  “We’ll see about that,” Annie said, stepping back and raising an eyebrow at me. Her gaze lingered on me for another fraction of a second, then she turned and crossed the living room to the front door. She paused slightly before opening the door, and sauntering out, closing it behind her.

  I stared at the door for a moment, wondering if this was really happening. Sitting down hard on the couch, I groaned and put my face in my hands. My fingers still smelled like her sweet pussy, and I sat up straight and sucked in a fresh mouthful of air.

  How the fuck had I allowed that to happen? Annie wasn’t just a young, innocent woman – she was literally the daughter of one of my only friends. Even though she’d come over and kissed me, it was hard not to feel like I’d seduced her. Although she was technically an adult, it was hard to think of her that way. She was easily twenty years younger than I was.

  Fuck, I thought as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Now that I’d fucked her, there was no going back. I couldn’t exactly rewind the clock and turn back time.

  The worst thing was, I didn’t even want to. I’d never had such fantastic sex before, and to my dismay, I found that Annie was still on my mind. I saw her curves every time I closed my eyes, and I had to force myself to stop smelling her sweet scent that lingered on my hands.

  I knew that I was going to have to work hard to stay away from her.

  I just wished that I didn’t want her so much.

  5

  Annie

  After losing my virginity to Elliot, I crept back across the lawn and let myself into my parents’ house. Nothing had changed – thankfully, I could still hear the rumbling snores of my dad echoing through the house, and the stairs were mercifully silent as I snuck upstairs and back into my bedroom. Stripping out of my clothes, I yanked back the duvet and climbed beneath the sheets.

  I lay in bed, my heart still racing. I could still taste Elliot in my mouth, could still feel his hard, muscled body against mine. Already, I wanted him again. I’d never imagined that sex could be so amazing, so transcendent. It had been my first (and only, of course) time – an experience I’d always heard was nothing but awkward at best and painful at worst.

  Closing my eyes, I rolled my head over the pillow and tried to breathe deeply. But Elliot’s face was burned into my mind, like I’d been branded, and I had to open my eyes and sigh. The floor of my bedroom was studded with moonbeams, and I shifted beneath the sheets, pulling the silky cotton over my bare skin. Although the air-conditioning wasn’t on – my mother didn’t believe in doing that until at least the first of July – I shivered and reached for the duvet, covering myself up to the of my nose. Lying here, alone in bed, it was hard to believe that what had just happened had been real and not a dream.

  My heart ached inside of my chest, but it was a delicious ache. Filled with yearning and longing. Every time I breathed in, my stomach did an excited, thrilled flip. I remembered the way Elliot had held me, had kissed me, had lifted me into the air, and set me down on the couch like I’d weighed nothing. The feel of his strong hands on my body, the urgent pressing of his mouth to mine. Thinking about him was making me tingle all over, and as I shifted again, I could feel that I was wet between the legs.

  He’d resisted the idea of anything further happening between us, but the look in his brilliant green eyes had said otherwise. I couldn’t help but feel a pinch of hope as I rolled onto my side and pulled the spare pillow over my head. The chemistry between us had been so magical, so intense, so unbelievable.

  Thoughts of Elliot stayed in my brain for hours, and by the time I was finally able to fall asleep, dawn was breaking, and birds were chirping loudly outside of my window.

  In the morning, I was sore between the legs and my skin felt sticky and greasy. I pulled on my bathrobe and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom where I peed before turning on the water in the shower as hot as it would go. Standing under the spray, I soaked my face and hair and reluctantly scrubbed the last traces of Elliot from my body. By the time I was finished, the water was running lukewarm, and I stepped out and shivered before wrapping myself in a towel. Peering at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t believe that I didn’t look any different. Overnight, I had gone from a little girl to a woman, but my round face and big eyes still looked exactly the same.

  “Wow,” I muttered to myself as I towel-dried my hair and went back to my room to get dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a loose tunic top. I went downstairs and saw both Mom and Dad sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, and reading the news on their iPads.

  My heart began thudding in my chest – had my parents somehow managed to hear me sneak out after all? What if they knew everything?

  Or worse, what if they could just somehow tell? My reflection hadn’t looked any different in the mirror, but I remembered what some former fling of Beth’s had once told me salaciously at a party: that he could tell if a girl was a virgin just by the way she walked.

  Thinking about it now made me shiver. It could have been bullshit – it wasn’t like I’d have known the difference – but what if it wasn’t? What if it was a real thing, and my parents could totally tell that their little girl was no longer the innocent child that she’d been before?

  I walked closer to the table, and my palms began to sweat and itch as I sat down next to my mother.

  “Morning,” I said, hoping that my shower had been thorough enough to cleanse the last traces of Elliot’s deliciously musky scent from my body.

  “Hi, hon,” Mom said. She didn’t look up from her tablet as she frowned, flipping through to another article.

  “Sleep well?” I asked, hopefully.

  My mother finally turned to me and blinked. “You’re awfully social this morning,” she said.

  Dad laughed. “No kidding, sweetie,” he said. “You’re rarely out of bed before noon.”

  I flushed. “Couldn’t sleep in, I guess,” I said finally.

  “What are your plans for the day?” Mom asked. She’d gone back to her tablet, and she was making thoughtful sounds under her breath as she scrolled through the news, her eyes narrowed down at the screen.

  “I ... I, uh, thought that I’d look for jobs,” I said.

  To my relief, my mother didn’t fight me on it. The awkwardness at the table was so overwhelming that I was almost nauseous, and I got to my feet and went over to the fridge. Pulling out a cold bottle of water, I took a long, refreshing swig and snuck out of the kitchen.

  The truth was, all I wanted was to see Elliot again. I wanted to make sure that what had happened between us was real.

  And if there was any chance of it happening again.

  The day crawled by. I stayed mostly in my room, half-heartedly looking at jobs and resume tips on my laptop. I didn’t see Elliot – he didn’t leave his house, and his vintage Jaguar stayed in the driveway.

  The next few days weren’t any better. Worse, my parents were constantly home. My mother only left the house to get groceries once, and then, of course, my father parked himself in the living room, right in full view of the front door, the front windows, and the side of Elliot’s lawn. There was one blessed time when both of my parents went out, and I saw Elliot in the driveway, but as soon as I put my hand on the door, their car pulled into the driveway, and Elliot made a hasty retreat into his house before I could catch him.

  “Elliot’s not coming over for dinner,” my mother said that Sunday, a few seconds after the phone had rung.

  “Oh,” my father said. He sounded almost disappointed, and I felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over me.

  “He says he’s pl
anning for some conference and he has to work late,” my mother said. She frowned, replacing the received on the hook. “Working late? On a Sunday?”

  My father cleared his throat. “Man works too hard,” he said. “I should get him out on the green again soon – golf is good for the soul.”

  I felt so frustrated and horny that I could have screamed. It wasn’t like I could text him – I didn’t have his number – and surely, a man of Elliot’s age wouldn’t have any interest in being on Facebook.

  That night, after dinner, my friend Beth came over, and after we finished eating with my parents, I practically dragged her upstairs.

  “What the hell,” Beth hissed when we made our way into my room and sat down on the floor.

  I held my breath for a second.

  “I had sex,” I said finally. Out loud, it sounded almost distasteful – clinical, like the kind of way I’d have to say it to my gyno.

  “What?” Beth screeched. Her eyes got big and she shook her head. “No way,” she said. “I didn’t even know that you were dating someone, Annie.”

  Blushing hotly, I looked down at my hands folded in my lap.

  “Well, that’s kind of the thing,” I admitted. “We don’t know each other very well. But we met and oh my god, Beth, it was insane. Like, I’ve never felt that way before. I didn’t even know I could feel that way.”

  Beth was giving me an odd look, and I had the feeling that I should throttle back, but I couldn’t stop. Talking about Elliot was even more addictive than thinking about him had been, and it felt so good to finally spill my secret after a week that I barreled right on.

  “He’s so amazing,” I continued. “And gorgeous and sexy and the way he touched me – it didn’t even hurt, you know? Like, I always thought it would be really painful to lose my virginity, but I barely even felt a twinge.”

  Beth blushed and looked away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said after a pause. “I know this is all probably way too much TMI, but I had to tell someone.

  “Someone?” Beth asked. She turned back to me, looking slightly wounded. “Annie, I’m your best friend.”

  “I know, I know,” I said quickly. “I really didn’t mean it like that. I just ... um, you know. I didn’t exactly want to tell you via texting, you know?”

  Beth nodded finally. “Well, that’d be hard,” she said, raising an eyebrow at me and giving me a sly look. “Considering you’re barely answering your texts these days. You’ve been really busy, haven’t you?”

  I swallowed. “Um, yeah,” I said. “Looking for jobs. Thinking about Elliot ... I haven’t seen him since, and I’m really dying to talk to him again.”

  “You had a one night stand?” Beth practically gasped. “Annie, what the hell? How did you even meet this guy?”

  I bit the inside of my mouth for a long time before answering her. There was a loose strand of blonde hair clinging to my jeans and I plucked it off.

  “He’s my parents’ neighbor,” I mumbled.

  Beth squealed, then covered her mouth with her hands. “No, ma’am,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s insane, Annie. That’s like ... um, wow. Do they know?”

  “Oh my god,” I said quickly. “No, they don’t know! They’d kill him, and then probably send me away to a convent for the rest of my life.”

  Beth snickered. “Little late for that,” she said. “The nuns might not want a defiled woman in their presence.”

  I flushed so hard that my cheeks burned.

  “He’s apparently friends with my dad, and he came over for dinner, and ugh, the moment I saw him, I just knew,” I said. “And like, it should’ve been totally weird but he’s not like anyone whom I’ve ever met before.”

  “This is crazy,” Beth said, but she was smiling as she said it.

  “I know,” I agreed. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “Well, are you still thinking about getting a job and moving out,” Beth asked. The sly note had crept back into her voice. “Or did you feel like staying here for longer?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’ll probably be easier to see him when I don’t still live next door, as ironic as that sounds,” I said.

  “You’re ... you’re thinking about seeing him again?”

  I nodded. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about,” I admitted.

  Beth pressed her lips together. “Just ... just be careful, okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  My best friend gave me a look. “Because you’re totally infatuated with him,” she said. “And you could get hurt. He might not want a relationship, Annie. He might not even want to see you again – what if your parents find out? He’s probably worried that your dad is going to go over there with a shotgun!”

  I knew she was right. I knew it – I could feel it in my bones, in my heart.

  But I had been careful my entire darned life, and frankly speaking I was sick of it. Now that I’d had a taste of a sexy, thrilling encounter with an older man, I knew one thing.

  I didn’t want to give it up.

  6

  Elliot

  Ignoring Annie for a week was more than just callous. It was cruel; it was cowardly.

  It was the kind of thing that I’d never done before.

  If only it wasn’t for her parents, I wouldn’t have been stressing about it at all. I would’ve done what I had wanted to do since watching her sweet, round ass sway and wriggle out of my front door: go over to her house, kiss her, and pull her into my arms.

  I told myself that I was only obsessing over a twenty-one-year-old because of the secrecy and taboo involved. If Annie and I had been out in the open, it would’ve been one thing. But hiding from her parents had made our encounter even hotter, and I’d spent nearly ever night jacking off and thinking of her big blue eyes, her bouncy tits, the way she’d thrown her head back and moaned with wild abandon.

  I’d never had such a good fuck before, and I was desperate to have her again.

  So, naturally, I ignored her.

  I knew she was watching my house – more than once, I caught a glimpse of her blonde curls inside the windows of her parents’ living room. I missed her sweet smell and the soft feel of her skin, missed the way she’d smiled so sinfully at me when I’d first let her inside my house.

  I skipped dinner with the Brownes the first Sunday after fucking Annie, lying about work and obligations there. The truth was, I hadn’t even told much of a lie. I’d been so focused on Annie, so unable to tear my mind away from her, that I’d been slacking off at the office. There were several large events coming up, and I was going to have to speak at several conferences. I’d pour myself a cup of espresso and sit down at my desk with every intention of getting back to work, only to wind up obsessing over Annie and how much I was missing her.

  It was insane. I barely knew anything about her – her parents had politely shared her accomplishments when I’d been over there having dinner, but I’d pictured her as some mousy, skinny little brunette thing. Not this curvy blonde bombshell who was clearly a pro at driving men insane.

  And yet, I knew that I had to have her again.

  The following Sunday, I was sitting down to my desk where there was a knock at the door. I frowned as I crossed the living room and opened the door.

  Standing on the other side was Cynthia, Annie’s mother.

  Instantly, my heart dropped, and I felt my stomach clench tightly. She knows, I thought as I forced a benign smile onto my face, one that I hoped said: “I didn’t give your sweet daughter the fuck of her life.”

  “Elliot!” Cynthia cooed. She stepped inside, pushing gently past me into the foyer before I could stop her and turning to me with her hands on her hips.

  “Hi,” I said warily. “Is everything okay?”

  “Well, no, not really,” Cynthia replied. She gave me a mock-petulant expression and shook her head.

  “What is it?” I asked. My heart was still thudding slowly in my chest – was this some kind
of trap?

  Was she going to come onto me next? As a test?

  “We haven’t seen you in almost two weeks,” Cynthia said. She clucked her tongue at me.

  “I’ve been really busy with work,” I lied. “I’m sorry – I haven’t really been able to do much of anything.”

  “Elliot,” Cynthia said. “Goodness, I’m not asking for much! You live alone, and you’ve been missing dinner with us. I want you to come over, with me. I made crown of lamb, just because I figured you’d been missing my home cooking so much.”

  I swallowed. “I can’t,” I said. “And besides, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “You’re not imposing,” Cynthia insisted. “Besides, you’d really be hurting my feelings if you didn’t come over. And I know Rob misses you.”

  Yes, I thought uncomfortably. And I miss fucking the shit out of your daughter, but hey – I somehow doubt you’d like to learn that.

  “He does,” Cynthia continued when I didn’t reply. “And it’s good for a man like you to get out of the house.”

  I rocked on the balls of my feet, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I knew that I should resist, that I should turn her down and gently eject her from my house before I could be too far tempted by any more thoughts of Annie, and the things I wanted to do to her.

  “I can see that I’m changing your mind,” Cynthia teased. “I was always very persuasive – I was on the debate team in high school! How else do you think I got Rob to finally pop the question in college?”

  I smiled weakly.

  “Good man,” Cynthia said. To my horror, she took my arm, and I was compelled to follow her out of my house and across the lawn.

  Maybe Annie won’t be there, I thought as Cynthia opened the front door.

  But oh, was she ever.

  As soon as I walked into the living room, I saw her and nearly froze. Annie was curled up on the couch, her curves barely concealed in a skimpy cotton sundress that stretched over her ripe breasts and hips. She was half-sitting, half-lying down with her bare feet propped up on the armrest, and when she saw me, she flushed slightly and grinned. Raising her arms in the air, Annie locked eyes with me as she performed a theatrical stretch, her tits heaving in the air as she arched her back and moaned softly, closing her eyes.