Sweet Virgin

by Leah Holt

  But I wanted him.

  I knew I was blushing, I could feel the blood rushing through my body in fiery waves. Clearing my throat, I rubbed the back of my arms. “You tell me, Mr. Tour Guide.”

  “Well. . .” Folding his arms together, he tapped his chin. “Do you like seafood?”

  “I do.” Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I nodded, trying not to look him in the eye. It was these damn nerves driving me insane. My body was no longer under the control of my brain.

  There wasn't any rational thoughts floating around inside my head. All I could see when I looked at Kealen was his naked form calling me in. Every move of his hands, every twitch of a brow or snap of his chest. . .

  And I was hijacked by sexual desire.

  “Then I know just where to go.” Taking my hand in his, he braided our fingers together and led me out the door.

  The electricity spiraled up my arm, hitting my chest. My lungs felt heavy, my heart skipped beats as he squeezed his fingers around mine. It was the first time I had held a real man's hand.

  The last boyfriend I had was almost three years ago, and holding his hand felt nothing like this. He was a boy, Kealen was a man.

  Kealen held my hand with purpose, with strength and experience. Experience I didn't have, but wanted; experience I didn't know, but needed.

  I wasn't about to let go. Not this time, this time I wasn't going to let myself become jittery and awkward. I wanted his hand around mine, even if it was only there to pull me along and not let me shy away.

  Strolling down the street, his hand stayed firmly tangled in mine, not once did he try to let go. He held on, gripping tighter, and moving closer. There was this energy between us, so strong I couldn't ignore it.

  What if it's just me?

  What if he's just being nice?

  This fear of unrealistic emotions sat in the front of my mind. I had no experience, I had no idea how to tell the difference between kindness and actual intent.

  How could I know for sure that I wasn't over analyzing his actions or touch?

  What if he was just old fashioned, raised in a family that burned respect and tradition into his bones?

  Then all of this, every last ounce, could just be normal for him.

  Kealen could be a man whose instinct was to coddle an old woman as she crossed the street or bringing out groceries to their car. Maybe he didn't even think twice about grabbing my hand as we left because it was the courteous thing to do.

  I was struck with the urge to let go, to slip my hand free from his and stop thinking I was feeling something that wasn't really there. I didn't want to feel the embarrassment of being wrong. It was easier for me to push him away than it was for me to let him in. That's if he wanted to be 'in' to begin with.

  There was no way I was going to make a fool of myself and let my emotions get the best of me. Trusting my instincts wasn't second nature, it was hard to open up and not question the motives behind someone else.

  Loosening my hand, I let the pads of my fingers break free first. Slowly I let my hand fall flat, drifting out of his.

  But he didn't follow suit, he curled his fingers deeper, gripping tighter and sucking my hand back in. “How long did you plan on staying here?” he asked, bumping into my shoulder as we walked.

  He isn't letting my hand go.

  Maybe I'm not crazy and there is something between us.

  I wasn't sure if the bump was intentional or by accident, but I couldn't help but feel the flirtation in his touch. Smiling to myself, I re-clasped my hand and glanced off to my left so he couldn't see the grin that had popped up on my face over something so small.

  It was such a tiny gesture, but to me it was confirmation that I might not be imagining the energy between us.

  “I planned on staying for a little while, but now I'm not sure.” Shrugging my shoulder, I kept looking around at the beauty this little town sparkled with.

  The street was lined with small shops that had hand painted signs hanging in the windows. There were no big flashy lights or giant billboards of models—or my face—set high in the sky.

  The road was built with small cobblestones and shells, the streetlights all looked like they were the original ones from when the town first popped up on the map. The only notable difference was the soft glow of a luminescent bulb, replacing the natural flicker of a flame.

  I felt his eyes watching me, observing my wonder around us. “What is it about this place that reminds you of home?”

  “The ocean.” I didn't have to think about the answer, it was the only thing that gave me comfort. Taking in a deep breath, I let the salty air fill my lungs. “I love that smell, that sound. It brings back good memories.”

  “If you love the memories, why'd you leave?”

  That was a question I couldn't answer, so I shook my head no. “I'd rather not talk about it.”

  That was exactly what I was trying to avoid. The past needed to stay where it was. I was on a mission to escape it all, to forget the shame and embarrassment of putting my virginity on a platter for the world to devour.

  “But you do miss it?”

  “I miss parts of it, not all of it.”

  Kealen's thumb worked its way over the nub on my wrist, drawing small circles against my skin and sliding down over my knuckle. “What are you hiding from, Allie?” His voice was delicate, caution layering his tone.

  He caught me off guard. Silence consumed me as I tried to search for an answer to a question I never saw coming.

  Am I that easy to read?

  Can he really tell I'm hiding?

  “I don't want to talk about it.” The words came out more stern than I meant them to, but my past was off the table. I wished I could take everything I wanted to forget and throw it into a bottomless pit.

  But telling my story, reliving it in words. . . That torture wasn't allowed.

  Frowning, Kealen nodded, letting his eyes drift straight ahead. “Understood. Can you tell me anything about who you are? Or do I have to read between the lines and try to guess?”

  Cocking my head, I eyed him under hooded lids. “Why all the questions?”

  Kicking his head into his shoulder, his brows lifted high. “I like to know who I'm living with I guess. I mean, I have to make sure you're not a serial killer, so consider this formalities.”

  “You realize that sounds backwards, right? Shouldn't I be wondering if you're a serial killer?”

  “I'm not.”

  “And I'm supposed to just believe you?”

  Kealen winked, smirking a hair. “When was the last time you went swimming?”

  “What?” Veering my stare, I brushed the hair from my face and let my mouth hang open.

  What the hell is he talking about? How did we go from killers to swimming?

  “You said you missed the ocean, but when was the last time you went in it?”

  Glancing around at nothing, I let my mind bring me back to that day. That one memory I always carried with me no matter how hard things got. Stuffing my free hand into my pocket, I twirled the shell in my fingers.

  “I was three.”

  “Wrong.” His teeth shined as his smile widened. “Come on.”

  Yanking my hand, he pulled me down onto the beach. Letting my hand go, he lumbered across the sand, straight towards the water.

  Is he. . .

  He is, he's heading into the water.

  Tugging off his shirt and pants in one quick swoop, he dropped them to the sand and let the water crest his ankles.

  His back was painted like a portrait, swirling in lines and bright colored images. Every muscle was highlighted, rolling and dancing as he stretched his arms over his head.

  My eyes moved lower, watching his ass tighten in the briefs that hugged his hips. Turning to face me, I wanted to lift my eyes back up, but the shape of his cock was perfectly defined. It was taunting me with hidden bliss and unknown pleasure.

  The thick muscle bulged beneath the fabric, jiggling up
and down and side to side as he walked backwards. It was hard for me to think, to focus, to do anything. I was stuck in this awe of how large his cock would be if he was hard, how it would feel to have it slip between my lips and taste my walls.

  My thighs clenched as I pictured his rock solid dick pressing against my entrance. I could feel my panties dampen as my sex heated to the temptation staring me down with a one eyed wink.

  “Well, are you just going to stand there?” The water flowed between his legs, forcing his briefs to tighten even more around his cock.

  Curling my arms around my waist, I crossed my legs and dug my feet into the sand. “What are you doing?”

  “Today is the next time you'll remember swimming in the ocean.” Splashing the water at me, he laughed hard, turning to dive into a wave.

  I stood motionless, ready to strip and jump in after him, and yet I was stuck in place. I knew I was smiling, but in the same breath a hint of sadness swept in. A new memory would be welcomed, but the thought of covering the last ocean image was sad.

  “Whatever you're thinking, this doesn't change it.” His body drifted up and down as the waves rolled in behind him. “Making new memories is what life's all about.” Throwing his hands into his hair, Kealen slicked the wet locks back, dragging his fingers down his jaw.

  Plucking at my lower lip, I folded my arms tighter around my ribs. He was right, he was absolutely right. Nothing could ever make me forget the last memory of my mom, but not letting myself enjoy the moment would torture me forever.

  Hiding had brought me here, but living wasn't something I could stop doing.

  Kicking my sandals off, I took off through the sand. Laughter had already consumed me as the cold ocean water met my ankles. The sand felt silky as it slipped between my toes and covered my feet.

  My clothing was drinking up the water as I moved in deeper, the cloth grew darker and my skin chilled with each step I took. But I never stopped smiling.

  Kealen stood watching me with a childish grin on his face. “See, new memories.” Holding out his arms, his chest puffed up, flexing into a wall of hardened stone.

  The water trickled down over his chest, drawing long wet lines over his skin. I wanted to lick the salty brine off his body, run my tongue around each muscle and taste every inch of him.

  “You can say that again.”

  His body was riddled in small peaks as the water glided effortlessly over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Each stain of ink, every thick line and bold image was glistening in watery perfection.

  Kealen let his hands wave in and out of the water, his fingers opened wide, brushing the liquid behind his back. “Did you ever take any risks in your life before?” His eyes were set on mine, trying to read me, trying to see inside my soul.

  I just wasn't ready to give it up.

  Crinkling my brows, I lowered my body up to my shoulders in the water. “I might consider this a risk.”

  “I wouldn't.” Stepping forward, Kealen curled his arm around my back and tugged me into his chest. “But this is.” Bending down, he pressed his lips against mine, kissing me deep and sensually.

  My arms hung lifelessly by my sides as my back arched. I hadn't expected him to kiss me. I was standing like a doll, ready to be positioned however he wanted to move me.

  I felt his fingers under my arms as he forced them up around his neck. The tips of his fingers traced my arms, turning my bristled skin into searing flames. His tongue swept through my lips, coiling around mine as it danced across the ridges of my mouth.

  It had been so long since I kissed someone that I was worried I wasn't doing it right. But that concern disappeared as his hands skimmed down my back and gripped my ass.

  My nipples beaded as my sex liquefied and pulsed between my thighs. I was a live wire as the voltage raged through my body and stopped my breathing completely.

  Kealen's hands worked their way up my ribs and cupped my cheeks. Pulling his mouth from mine, his eyes danced under hooded lids. “Life is full of risks, you just have to know when to take them. . .” Strumming his thumb over my bottom lip, he held my face firmly in place. “And when to make them yours.”

  Chapter Five

  Alaska

  My clothes were dripping large droplets of water as I stood behind Kealen while he opened the door. Dinner wasn't happening, not now, I was soaked.

  And if he had suggested it, there was no way I could eat after that. The way he touched me, the way he looked in my eyes, the taste of his lips against mine. I wasn't ready to wash that away.

  Stepping inside, I gripped the trim of my shirt and squeezed. “I think I took the ocean back with me.”

  “You should've followed suit.” Winking, he pinched the corner of his shoulder and smiled. “Let's get you a towel.” As he turned towards the bathroom, I couldn't stop myself from laughing out loud. “What's so funny?”

  “Following suit would have left me with an ass like yours.” Nodding my head, he twisted his body and looked down. “Maybe being wet all over isn't so bad.”

  Kealen's backside was drenched, soaked from his boxers. The water had seeped into his jeans, making it look like he had pissed himself. I was still giggling, unable to stop.

  Waving a single finger at me, his lips thinned. “I'd be careful with that.”

  “With what?”

  “Tempting me with your wetness. Don't make me regret getting you a towel, not that it matters. I could make you wet all over again.”

  I should have been cold and shivering uncontrollably from the coldness of the clothes stuck to my body, but I wasn't. I couldn't think, he had shut me right up with an invitation to dare him.

  And that kiss, that damn kiss was still smothering my brain. The way his lips felt on mine, the way his body felt when I was in his arms, the way my heart hammered inside my chest when he pulled me in; all of it was clouding my head.

  Inside, I wanted to tell him everything, every minute detail of my life. The fear of telling him about who I was and where I came from was starting to fizzle away. It was like he could read my mind, knowing my darkest secrets and fears from just my expression.

  He could see the pain in my face when I was thinking about my mom, he could sense my hurt and the worry of losing that memory. If he could read me then, he could read anything.

  But it pained me to know I couldn't. He had questions, he was curious about who I was and I couldn't blame him. There was nothing more I wanted than to cuddle up beside him and tell him stories about where I came from, about what it was like for me growing up, what commercials he could find my young innocent face in.

  Innocent. . .

  I don't want to be innocent anymore.

  The wonder of why he moved so much, where he came from and what he did to make a living was right there on the tip of my tongue. But asking meant answering, I wasn't sure I was ready for his reaction when he found out who I was.

  It was refreshing to have someone beside me that knew absolutely nothing, it was a one in a million chance that I would run into the one and only person on this earth who had no clue who I was.

  There was no way I could risk fucking that up. I purposely tried to not ask him questions about himself, just trying to keep my past a secret. If I didn't ask him, he wouldn't ask me. It was that simple.

  Only it wasn't.

  Kealen walked out of the bathroom, carrying two bright white towels. “They're not the thickest, I could give you something thicker.” Handing me one, he threw the spare onto the bed and sat down beside it with a shit eating grin on his face.

  He knew, I could tell by his eyes, he knew what he was doing. And he knew what he was causing my body to do.

  Clutching the towel, I eyed him. I wanted to say something back, tease him with flirtatious bickering that could force him to swallow hard. But I had nothing, I was blank.

  But watching his gaze fueled my mind. My nipples were hard, piercing through the fabric, and his eyes were set right on them. Arching my back, I pushed m
y chest out further.

  I can tease you too.

  But I have different assets to work with.

  If I couldn't think up a quick whip to send his way, I would use the next best thing. Kealen might have been able to read my mind, to see my reaction. But I could read his body.

  Grabbing his knees, he shifted on the bed. “Are you going to stay in those clothes?”

  And. . . There it is.

  Boom.

  I wanted to fist bump myself for giving it back to him, so I did. . . In my head. It wasn't as fulfilling, but it did the job.

  “Maybe. Do you want me to tell you I'll take them off?” Giggling, I dragged the towel down my arms.

  “You haven't told me much.” Pressing his palms into his knees, his knuckles whitened as he eyed me under hooded lids.

  Grimacing, I scrubbed my hair, pursing my lips. His stare was intense, scratching away like sharp burs rolling over my skin. He wanted answers, he wanted to know more than I was giving.

  Relaxing, he sat up straight. “Look, I get it, you don't like wherever it is you came from, for whatever reason. It's just. . .” Taking a deep breath, his shoulders rolled forward. “I want to know about you. There's something there that makes me wonder, that makes me curious. What's so bad that you can't say it? Are you the daughter of a mobster, are you running for your life?”

  “No, it's nothing like that. I just don't want to talk about it and we don't need to. Let's just enjoy this. . .” Tilting my head a hair, I shrugged. “Whatever this might be.”

  “What do you think this is?” Folding his hands, he clicked the pads of his thumbs together. “Tell me that at least, let me in on what you're thinking.”

  “You really want me to tell you what I think?” Lifting my leg onto the bed, I wrapped the towel around my thigh and wiped it dry.

  Kealen stood up, slowly walking to my side. His hand swept through the tips of my hair, brushing it over my shoulder. The air I took in lodged in the back of my throat as his fingers kept moving over my back.

  His touch was delicate, intricately pressing into the curve of my spine. My body shuddered, forcing lone water drops to cascade down my legs.