The Nice Boxset

by Jasinda Wilder

  “It’s perfect, Kyle.” I refolded the note and tucked it into my wallet in my purse.

  That note would become my greatest comfort, and the reminder of my deepest heartache.

  The restaurant Kyle had chosen was insanely busy. Even with reservations, we waited almost an hour for our table to be ready. There were dozens of couples ranging from our age to old married couples. We took our time, sharing a salad, soup, and an entrée, as well as a huge piece of cheesecake for dessert.

  We were oddly relaxed, now that the declaration of love was out of the way. We chatted easily about everything from teachers at school to gossip regarding who was sleeping with whom and who wasn’t. Eventually Kyle paid the tab, and we went back to his car. Kyle pulled out of the restaurant parking lot and wound his way slowly around town. He was killing time, I knew, giving us a chance to talk before we broached the issue of going to the hotel or not.

  Kyle circled town on the dirt back roads as we talked, and after about half an hour, he pulled back onto the main road, approaching where I knew the hotel was located. He glanced at me, reached out, and took my hand in his.

  “Do you want to go home? There’s a couple movies playing at the theater, too, in case you wanted to see a movie.” He fidgeted with the steering wheel as we sat at a stoplight, then finally turned to meet my eyes, his gaze serious. “Or we can go to the hotel.”

  Decision time.

  Oh, god. His eyes were liquid brown, mocha sprinkled with cinnamon-red highlights, little specks of topaz and flecks of tan. He was so serious, so sweet. Offering up the idea without pressuring me. I squeezed his hand as we approached the signature red tile roof of the hotel. I swallowed hard.

  “Let’s go to the hotel,” I said.

  We were still skirting the issue. Talking about it in code. Going to the hotel. Meaning, let’s go have sex. I blushed as the blunt thought crossed my mind. But then I looked at Kyle, at his carefully spiked black hair, his strong jawline and high cheekbones and soft lips. His long black eyelashes blinked rapidly, and then he glanced at me, offered me a nervous but brilliant smile, flashing straight white teeth. My nerves receded, just a little bit. My heart continued to pound a million miles a minute, though, and the hammering in my chest only ratcheted up faster as we pulled into parking lot and approached the check-in counter.

  The woman behind the counter was older, with graying blonde hair and steel-blue eyes. Knowing eyes. She gave us each a long, hard stare, as if daring us to continue. Her lips pursed in a disapproving frown as she handed Kyle the keycard, and I knew she wanted to say something to us. She didn’t, though, and Kyle and I both fought laughter as we boarded the elevator to our third-floor room.

  “God, she was intense,” Kyle said, snorting in laughter.

  “Yeah, she was,” I agreed. “I think she knew what we were doing, and she didn’t like it one bit.”

  “Well, no shit she knew,” Kyle said. “There’s only one reason two sixteen-year-olds would get a hotel room on Valentine’s Day without any luggage.”

  “Think she would tell anyone?” I asked.

  “Who would she tell? It’s not like we’re running away.”

  I had no answer for that besides a shrug and a nod. We were at our room, 313. Kyle slid the card in, and the light turned green with a click, audible in the silent hallway. He pushed the door open, led me into the darkened room, clutching my hand tightly.

  He flipped a switch, bathing the room in too-bright light. He seemed to sense the feeling of the overhead light being too bright and immediately left my side to click on the lamp affixed to the wall next to the queen bed. I turned off the overhead light, and we both sighed in relief.

  Kyle sat on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the end of his tie. I smiled at him. He was so handsome in his black suit, a daring pink tie the only splash of color against his black dress shirt. He unbuttoned his blazer and rubbed his palms on his knees.

  I licked my lips, twitching the hem of my sleeveless coral knee-length dress. Our eyes met and skidded past each other, nerves rushing back in spades now that we were alone in a hotel room.

  At my house or his, in his car on the back roads, everywhere we’d ever kissed, there had been the knowledge that someone could find us. The back roads were regularly patrolled by county sheriffs, and at least one of our parents were always home. This was the first time we’d ever been truly alone, in private, with no possibility of being interrupted.

  My heart was beating so hard I was sure Kyle could hear it from across the room.

  My eyes flicked back to his face, watched his tongue slide across his lower lip, and I mimicked the action, almost unconsciously. That was the breaking point. Kyle lunged off the bed and was pressed up against me before I could react, one of his large, strong hands cupping my cheek, the other resting on my waist just above my hip. He didn’t kiss me immediately, though. He hesitated, his lips an inch from mine, his eyes hot and soft on mine.

  “Are you afraid?” he whispered, his breath huffing softly on my lips.

  I shrugged, a tiny roll of one shoulder. “Yes, a little.”

  “We can leave.”

  I shook my head. “I want to be here with you,” I breathed.

  I lifted my hands to tangle my fingers in his hair. I pushed my fingers through his hair, gel-spiked locks prickly but soft, then curled my hand around his nape and pulled him into a kiss.

  “Let’s just start with this,” I said, pulling away. “One step at a time.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  We stood in the middle of the hotel room, kissing, hands grazing faces, pawing at shoulders and backs. We didn’t try to push it, initially. I felt his heart pounding in his ribs, my hand on his chest, and the knowledge that he was as nervous as I was gave me courage.

  I pulled back from the kiss, met his gaze, then brushed his suit coat from his shoulders. It fell to the ground behind him, and I pulled his tie loose with both hands, slid the silk free, and dropped it on the blazer. He searched my eyes, waiting. I fumbled with the tiny top button, finally got it open with a nervous laugh. Kyle laughed with me, resting his hands on my hips, lower now. Our eyes were locked together as I undid his dress shirt one button at a time, my hands shaking. Finally, the shirt hung open, revealing a stark white wife-beater tank top that hugged his muscular torso. I took one of his hands in mine, unbuttoned the cuff, then the other, tugged the sleeves down past his wrists so the shirt billowed to the floor at his feet.

  He reached behind me for the zipper of my dress, but I stopped him. I wasn’t done yet. I was determined to do this right, to do this as I’d imagined. See, I’d pictured this moment over and over in my mind. I would slowly undress him, and then wait, heart in my throat as he unzipped my dress and let it fall away. I never got past that moment in my imagination, though.

  He kicked off his shoes and then stood still once more, waiting, smiling hesitantly. I licked my lips, watching his eyes follow my tongue. I put my hands on his waist, hesitated, then pushed up the cotton tank top, baring his torso slowly, one inch at a time. He lifted his arms over his head and we removed the shirt together, leaving him standing shirtless in his suit pants, gloriously beautiful.

  Now came the hard part. I drew in a deep breath and reached for his belt. His eyes widened and his fingers tightened on my hips, curling into the fabric of my dress and into the flesh beneath. My hands were trembling like leaves in a long wind as I unbuckled the belt, drew it free, and then reached for the slip-catch of his pants. He held his breath and drew in his belly as I opened the top. His eyes closed briefly as I tugged the tab of his zipper down. His pants fell around his ankles, and he stepped out of them. His tight boxer-briefs were tented in front, and we both blushed and looked away.

  He kissed me, pushing my hands to my sides. “My turn,” he whispered.

  I nodded, and now my heart crashed wildly in my chest. I had a lot less for him to take off. He slid his hands up my bare arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake. I held m
y breath as he pinched the zipper pull in his fingers, bit my lip as he drew it down agonizingly slowly. A whisper of fingers against flesh, and then my dress was pooling around my feet, leaving me standing before him in my bra and underwear.

  He’d seen me in a bikini before, but this was different somehow.

  “You’re beautiful, Nell.” His voice was a husky breath in the silence.

  “So are you.”

  He shook his head, giving me a lopsided grin. His fingers skated over my shoulders, toying with the bra straps. His grin faded as I reached up behind me to unhook the bra. He stopped me, his hands stilling mine.

  “Are you sure?” His eyes searched mine, tender and hesitant.

  Hesitant. A voice in the back of my head murmured doubts, but I pushed them away.

  I nodded. He brought my hands around to rest on his shoulders, and then took the bra hooks in his hands. He fumbled a bit, and his tongue darted out. I stifled a laugh against his shoulder.

  “Shut up,” he muttered. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before.”

  “I know,” I said. “It’s cute.”

  He growled under his breath as he freed one hook, then a second, mumbling a curse as the third and final hook defied him. “It’s not supposed to be cute,” he said, peering over my shoulder to try to see what he was doing. “It’s supposed to be hot and erotic and romantic.”

  I giggled again as he cursed, fighting the last hook and eyelet. Finally it came free, and then my laughter faded, replaced by nerves and desire. I did want this. I was nervous, yes, and afraid a little, yes. But I wanted it. There was no one else I could imagine doing this with but Kyle.

  The bra joined our clothes on the floor, and then Kyle stepped back to look at me. I shifted my weight from foot to foot as he scrutinized me. I knew he thought I was beautiful, and I wasn’t uncomfortable in my own skin usually, but his blatant perusal of my nearly naked body was difficult to bear gracefully.

  I bit my lip as I summoned the courage to do what came next; Kyle’s thumbs hooked in the elastic of his boxers, and I mirrored the action.

  “Together?” he said.

  I nodded, my voice stuck in my throat. He hesitated a beat, then pushed his boxers down to his knees and stepped out of them. I froze, unable to move, paralyzed by the sight of him, completely nude now.

  It was his turn to shift in discomfort as I stared at him. He was beautiful. I had no real-life experience to compare it with, but he was big down there. He looked nothing like the images I had burned into my head, thank god. He was proportionate, and his proud, tall member seemed to beckon me.

  His voice distracted me. “I thought we were doing that together.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I was going to, but then I saw you, and—” I couldn’t finish.

  He lifted his chin, rolled his shoulders, flexed his fingers, summoning his confidence. He took a step toward me, and I forced myself to relax.

  “How about you do it for me?” I said, shocked a little by my own daring.

  “I like that idea.” His hands went for their favorite spot, just on the outward bell of my hips.

  I was wearing lacy red underwear to match the bra, and Kyle’s hands drifted over the top of my butt, tracing the lace, following the line of the elastic. I forced myself to breathe as he pushed them down to my thighs, forced my eyes open and up to his as he palmed my buttocks.

  I wiggled my hips and thighs, and then the scrap of lace was on the floor and we were naked together. My heart was a wild drum in my chest, in my ears. I was trembling from head to toe, fear and excitement and desire. His skin was hot against mine where his hands touched my bare hips, my ribs, his thigh against mine. The tips of my breasts brushed his chest, sending little thrills of lightning through me. His palms arced across my back, then dared downward to my ass, cupping and kneading, a little too hard, but I didn’t mind.

  My hands moved of their own accord, palming the knots of muscle on his back, following the ridges and ripples of his spine. He sucked in a breath as I touched his backside, marveling at the cool hardness of it. I cupped it as he had mine, then clawed my fingernails lightly over the firm half-globes.

  I felt something twitch against my belly as I touched him. I looked down between us to see his erection, the tiny hole at the very tip leaking clear fluid.

  Glancing up at him, I saw his eyes widen as my hand delved down between us, and then his breath caught when my fingers touched him.

  “God, Nell. You have to let go…it’s too soon.”

  I released him and brushed my palm across his chest, and cupped his nape and drew him down into a kiss. The slow burn of our usual kisses smoldered, then burst into a blaze. I found myself pressed against his body, his hardness against my softness, and the fire burned hotter with the feel of his muscular physique flush against me.

  He backed me up against the bed and I crawled backward, feeling the pound of nerves resume as Kyle followed me.

  “Are you—” Kyle started.

  I interrupted him. “Yes. I’m sure. I’m nervous and scared, but I want it more than I’m scared.” I bit my lip, then admitted, “I’m on birth control. I got it a week ago, just in case.”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…it never felt like the right time. I was embarrassed, I guess.”

  Kyle slid off the bed and dug his wallet out of his suit coat, withdrew two condoms, and set them on the table beside the bed. “I got those.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked him. He seemed nervous now.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Like you said, I’m a little nervous. I mean, I don’t want to hurt you, or do anything wrong.”

  “You won’t do anything wrong. You won’t hurt me. Just…we’ll go slow, okay?”

  He nodded, then ripped open the condom and rolled it over himself.

  He knelt over me, his hands on either side of my face, knees between mine, eyes locked on me, searching me.

  I pulled him toward me and rested my hands on his back, then leaned up to kiss him. The heat of the kiss erased both of our fears, or eased them at least. He moved into me, slowly.

  I felt stretched, then a pinch, sharp and quick. I winced, and Kyle froze. His breathing was ragged already, and I could feel tension in his muscles. I was biting my lip hard now, feeling the pricking pain ease and the wonder of foreign fullness take over. I touched his backside, pulled him against me, encouraging him to move.

  It wasn’t long before he stilled, groaning.

  There were no fireworks, no screaming, no wild sweaty thrashing, but it was still amazing.

  Kyle got up, disappeared into the bathroom, and came back. I cradled my head against his chest. Minutes passed in silence. His body felt hard and hot beneath me, and the feeling of being held by him this way, naked skin against naked skin, was almost better than what had gone before.

  I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and drip onto Kyle’s chest. I wasn’t sure where the tear had come from, or what it meant. I blinked, trying to keep back the others that threatened, not wanting Kyle to think I hadn’t enjoyed it.

  “Are you crying?” Kyle asked.

  I nodded, and let the tears spill. “It’s…I’m not upset or anything. Just emotional.”

  “Emotional how?”

  I shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. I’m not a virgin anymore. We can’t go back now. Not that I’d want to take it back, because it was a wonderful experience. But…it’s a big deal, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  I tilted my head up to look at him. “I love you, Kyle.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The second time was incredible. I felt a fire blossom low in my belly, a feeling like I might explode, or implode. I’d brought myself past that point on my own, obviously, but this was different.

  I wondered what it would be like to be brought to that point with Kyle.

  Chapter 4

  A Proposal; A
Tree Falls

  August, Two Years Later

  If our parents knew that Kyle and I were having frequent sex, they didn’t say or do anything about it. We were careful of when and where we did it, of course. Kyle’s mom had started going to a scrapbooking club two or three evenings a week, and his dad was in Washington much of the year, so we spent a lot of time in his room. My mom was home more frequently, as was my dad, but they didn’t seem to care how much time I spent with Kyle at his house. Of course, we claimed to be studying, doing homework, or watching movies most of the time. We did do those things, just not as much as we led my parents to believe.

  We’d both turned eighteen the previous week. Our parents had decided that, instead of giving us an extravagant party, they’d let us go to Kyle’s family’s cabin on the lake up north for the weekend. We’d been petitioning for this all summer, and they’d hesitated, telling us they’d think about it. We’d almost given up on the idea when our parents called a meeting with us.

  “You guys are eighteen now, and legally adults,” Kyle’s dad said by way of introduction. “You two have been dating for what, two years now? We know what this trip of yours means, and we get it. We were young once, too.”

  Everyone shifted awkwardly at the implication.

  “Yes, well.” Kyle’s dad cleared his throat and continued in his stentorian congressman’s voice. “The point is, we’ve decided to allow you to make this trip together. Now. The hard part. I realize this is tricky and uncomfortable for everyone, but it must be said. You’re young adults now, and capable of making your own decisions. We’ve raised you well, raised you to be smart young people capable of making good decisions. I know we’ve spoken about this before to each of you, as parents, but I believe it must be said to you both together as a couple.”

  “Just say it, Dad,” Kyle sighed.

  “We’ve spoken of being careful. Of using protection.” Kyle and I exchanged glances but kept silent. “I am a public figure, as is your father, Nell. It is imperative that you take this seriously. I cannot afford scandal at this point in my career. There’s talk of nominating me for the presidential race in two years, and I know I don’t need to remind you how important image is in such a situation.”