by Bright, Sera
But I had to tell him soon, I just didn’t know how. He knelt on the bed, reached over to his wallet, and pulled out a condom. The remaining last bit of nerves fled. I needed to do something first, before he put it on. I wanted to touch him like he’d touched me. Could I make him feel just as good?
I wrapped my hand around the base, and he threw his head back, exposing the long length of his throat. It was so hot in my palm, hotter than any other part of his body. Experimentally, I applied a little pressure, just to see what would happen. He breathed out a ragged gasp, and my head swam at the result. I did that. I made him feel that way.
He laughed. “If you don’t keep your busy hands to yourself, I’m not going to last.”
I quirked my mouth up and considered the implications for a moment, before taking my hand away. He ripped open the condom and put it on before he covered me with his body, sheltering me. He went to kiss me, and I could feel the tip of him so close. Involuntarily, I moved my hips up, like my body knew more about sex than I did. If I didn’t say something now, he was going to be in for one hell of a surprise.
“Wait.” I kissed his chin. “I have to tell you something.”
He went completely still.
“You know how my reputation isn’t true,” I said.
His eyes went unfocused before returning to center on mine. “Yeah, of course.”
“My reputation is really, really not true.” I spoke clearly to gauge his reaction.
“Oh.” He blinked in quick succession. “Oh! You mean…” He gestured to us with one hand, sprawling together naked in bed.
I laughed to cover my embarrassment. A blush crept up my face with unpleasant whispering doubts. Maybe he wouldn’t want me now. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for him.
“So you’re a virgin?”
I nodded, and looked up at him from under my lashes.
He swallowed hard. “I’m not.”
My cheeks flamed. It was more than obvious already that he already knew what he was doing, and with skill.
“I’m sorry,” he confessed.
I stiffened underneath him. Was this where everything was going to fall apart?
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have pushed you. We don’t have to do this tonight. We can wait until you’re ready.”
What the hell was he talking about? He never pushed me. This had been all my idea.
“I’m ready.” I shook my head. “Absolutely, completely ready.”
His whole body vibrated with tension, and he continued to weigh me with his gaze. He wanted this, I knew he did. And I wanted this. Oh, God, did I want this. For once, I was absolutely sure of something in my life. A little more reassurance was necessary. I thrust my hips up and let his cock nestle against me, the sensation an exquisite physical expression of pure want.
“Did I mention I’m ready?” I whispered.
He closed his eyes and inhaled. Sweat broke out across his forehead.
I planted more kisses along his jaw. “It’ll be fine.”
“But it’s going to hurt you,” he said through clenched teeth. “The first time hurts, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’ll only hurt for a moment, promise.” I had no idea if that was really true or not, but it sounded good.
I slid my hand underneath his, and entwined our fingers together. “There’s no one else I want to do this with. Truly. We can figure it out together.”
He sucked in a breath through his teeth and then nodded, and something broke free in his expression. “Together.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sunday
All my clothes lay on the floor of the entryway. I wasn’t quite sure how they’d got there. Didn’t care. Didn’t want to stop to think if this was a good idea. I needed it more than I needed air at the moment. His lips were on my shoulder, his hands everywhere, worshiping me. I pulled his shirt over his head. The black t-shirt joined the pile on the floor where it belonged. He didn’t need to be wearing it right now.
“Here?” he asked in that deliciously husky voice.
“Now.” I nodded emphatically, just in case he missed my enthusiastic consent. “Condom?”
“I have one in my wallet.” He leaned me back against the wall, his strong hand curving around the base of my throat. My pulse thrummed under his fingers, matching its rhythm to the one beating on the side of his neck.
“Planning ahead?” I arched my breasts up just to watch the desire burn in his eyes, letting him look his fill. He’d told me before he loved my breasts, loved how they fit in his hands.
“No, but I was hoping.” He lowered his head to a nipple and skimmed his mouth over the sensitive flesh. The contrast of the glide of his lips to the bite of his teeth left me writhing under him on the table. He continued to insist on surrounding me, overwhelming me. And I wasn’t complaining.
“Me, too,” I gasped.
He raised his head up, a quiet smile on his face. “Took you long enough.” Moving his mouth to the inked patch of skin under my collarbone, he murmured, “This is incredibly sexy, by the way.”
While I appreciated the compliment, I couldn’t let him have all the fun. My hands went to his fly, and I sat up to unsnap it. He pulled out his wallet, took out a condom, and ripped it open with his teeth. I pulled his jeans down his hips and helped put the condom on. He stopped moving when he felt my hand around his cock. I loved that word for some reason.
He stopped moving when he felt my hand on his cock. Closing his eyes, his face held rapture. But only for a second, because he popped them open to grab my hips, and shoved me closer. I clung to his shoulders, enjoying the flex of his muscles under my fingers. The head of his shaft jutted between my legs.
His forehead touched mine. “Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”
“Oh, yes.” My breathing increased. He never pushed me when it came to physical intimacy, always the gentleman.
He kissed me hard on the lips as he thrust inside. I lifted my legs around his hips, wrapping them around his taut ass.
“Fuck.” His shoulders went rigid under my hands. He ground out in my ear, “So good.”
I couldn’t respond, I was too swept up in the feeling of being complete as I stretched to hold him. It was perfect. And then I realized he wasn’t moving. The veins on the side of his neck stood out, and I knew he was holding back. He held me so close I couldn’t move. Need quickly nipped at me.
“Please,” I whimpered on his lips.
His hands tightened on my hips, his fingers digging into the skin, while he slowly withdrew, and then slammed into me. I bit him on the shoulder to keep from crying out. I could already feel the rush building. Rough and quick got me off as much as slow and sweet. He must’ve sensed it, and the next thrust was only half as powerful.
“You didn’t think I would make it that easy?” he teased in my ear.
His next thrust was even gentler. He was killing me here.
I clawed down his back, and he hissed in a sharp breath. But he got the hint because he started thrusting harder, and didn’t stop. He dropped his head back, his neck bared to me. My lips and teeth went to the hollow of his throat, his collarbone. He buried himself in me over and over, a mix of pleasure with a tinge of pain for both of us. Every part of my body tensed, waiting for the release to come. An orgasm unfurled, taking its time to expand, but when it did, it completely engulfed me. I moaned into his shoulder, shaking at the bliss that came from coming undone.
Ash pushed into me once more before he utterly lost control and followed my lead. He took a hand off of my hip and tangled his fingers in my hair, bringing my mouth to his for a punishing kiss while his body was racked with shudders. We melted into each other as the tremors quieted.
Warm air tickled the lobe of my ear as he tried to catch his breath. I was right there with him. My heart rate took its time to trend down while I continued to cling to him. Last year we had explored sex with each other, and discovered we were really, really good at it together. Our clo
thes lay in a puddle on the scuffed wooden floor. The sight of them somehow made all of this more real, proved that this wasn’t a fantasy.
I rubbed my cheek against the faint stubble on his chin, letting the sandpapery roughness ground me. I was here and present in his arms. Sticky sweat formed where our bodies met. I wiggled slightly, reveling in the feel of his skin on mine. And then the knowledge of what I had just done destroyed my sense of contentment.
Sex was the only time I felt like I could be honest with him. Truly, completely honest. Anxiety didn’t cloud my thoughts and make me look for an escape or twist my words into half-truths. It was so easy to reveal the depth of my feelings with my body. And in doing so, it was also so easy to forget the past and all the problems it brought with it. Shame chided me for my lapse in memory, reminding me of all my sins.
The entryway table creaked as Ash leaned back, taking some of his weight off of me. I’d finally told him I’d always wanted him, but it was under pressure and the direct opposite of what I had previously told him. Why would he believe anything I said? On a good day I didn’t believe half of what I said.
Worse, I’d told him I only wanted him for sex last summer before I ran from him. I’d just reinforced that lie by screwing him on a piece of furniture.
“Get off me.” I pushed pointlessly at his chest. My legs loosened their grip around his hips, but he held me tight, knowing I usually adored post-sex closeness.
“I didn’t know what else to do.” His fingers convulsed on the small of my back. “Everything I did was wrong and you kept pushing me away.”
I lifted my head away from his shoulder in an effort to read his face. His eyes shone with sincerity. Against my better judgment, I stroked his face. Still couldn’t keep my hands off him.
He kissed my wrist. “When I couldn’t find you after the tow truck left, I was terrified something had happened to you. One moment you were next to your truck, and the next thing I knew, you were gone.”
“This was all about how worried you were about me?” I cast a glance down at our bodies, wrapped around each other. “You were pissed off at me the moment you saw me this morning.”
“No wonder you were so freaked out in the car earlier.” He chuckled, the deep and pure sound rumbling through me. “I swore last night I was going to give you space and stop pushing you so much. By the way, you ruined that from the start when you insisted I sleep next to you in your bed last night.”
“Again, this was your idea of giving me space?”
“No.” He nuzzled my neck, his nose nudging the hollow of my throat. “This was because I woke up this morning with you in my arms and all I wanted was to be inside of you. I was so hard I couldn’t even think. That’s why I left. And then when I came back, you stood in the doorway looking so fucking hot—”
“You couldn’t even look at me!”
“Your clothes were sheer in the sunlight.”
A ripple of pleasure warmed my overheated skin. I didn’t think about how my clothes would look outside in the sun. I didn’t think he was coming back at all when I got dressed.
Wait. My arms dropped away from around his shoulders. Nothing had changed, and if anything, I had proved how unworthy I was of him. I clutched at the edge of the table as I avoided his eyes. I ran away—again—in a childish fit of jealousy, and then discovered how much I hurt him with my disappearance last year.
I wished I could make him understand, confess to him that he deserved better than the way I had treated him. My throat seized the words, snatching them back. I raised my gaze to his eyes, and went with the option I always chose. Another misdirection, another sleight-of-hand lie.
I spiked my voice with annoyance. “It still doesn’t change the fact you used Brooke to get what you wanted.”
Despite the fact it was the same thing I wanted.
He frowned. “I’m not about to give up on an obvious tactical advantage when it comes to you. I can’t trust you not to sneak out a window the first chance you get when I’m around.”
He shouldn’t trust me. I was a liar who ran from my problems.
“If you’d actually give me space, I wouldn’t have to climb out of windows to get away from you,” I snapped. “I know your tricks, too. Stop bothering to try them out on me.”
He withdrew from me then, pulling up his jeans and tucking himself in. Everything about him screamed withdrawal and retreat. The set of his shoulders, the turn of his mouth, the refusal to meet my eyes. An angry red stain darkened his high cheekbones. He was deeply hurt by my rejection. Again. And I did that. I made him feel that way.
He stalked off to the bathroom and left me alone with my thoughts. I couldn’t bring a full breath in as I wrung my hands together. Whatever choice I made, all I kept doing was hurting him. We’d spent years circling around each other, cautious about making the wrong move until it happened, and this was the result. All my fault, shame scolded me soundly. I slapped my palms down on the tabletop.
Fuck shame. I was tired of it. It never shut up, never let me relax, never let me stay still or speak my own truth.
Once I’d wanted to be the brave, strong girl on the start of a new adventure, on a path I couldn’t control any more than the path of the clouds in the sky. I couldn’t get the blind optimism back, but I could fake anything with enough motivation.
Ash walked out into the living room, his face flat and neutral. He was here. I was here. He didn’t have any ties to his parents. They couldn’t do anything to him as long as I didn’t hang around too long. And like last summer, we were both going off to different ends of the country soon. This time our separation was probably permanent. He only came back to find me, and I had to make it worth it.
I slid down from the table and stood on shaking legs. He bent down to grab his t-shirt off the floor, but I’d already made up my mind, and swooped to snatch it away from him. He seemed confused for a second, then clenched his jaw. I pulled his shirt over my head, and tugged it down, where it hung past my naked thighs.
“What are you doing?” he asked impatiently. “I need to get dressed so I can go. Isn’t that what you want?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not what I want.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Then what do you want?”
You.
I hesitated. “I’m supposed to leave in a week. I want to spend time with you and just have fun before I go.”
I clutched and twisted the fabric of the shirt. It was as close as I could come to saying the words right now, and hoped it would be enough.
He glanced away to the living room, his whole body stiff as if waiting for the next hit of my rejection. “Why?”
“Why what?” Doubts buzzed in my head. He didn’t want me now that I’d given in. I’d pushed him one time too far.
“You’re not staying here for the summer?”
“I’m only here to fix another one of my father’s screw-ups.” I nervously circled my fingers around my left wrist.
Ash watched me closely. My hands were always a dead giveaway to what I was thinking. He scrubbed a hand over his face with a sigh and his broad shoulders eased.
“Do you want to start over?” He took a step toward me. “Second time’s the charm?”
I nodded my head, and I did what I should have done from the first moment I saw him, and threw myself into his arms. My breath hitched in my chest. “I missed you so much.”
“You’re going to kill me, you know that?” he muttered into my hair.
My heart skipped, startled by how easily he confessed the depth of his feelings for me. I didn’t know how to do any of this right after doing it all wrong, so I covered my shock, and teased, “Would it be worth it?”
“Yes,” he said in a raw tone.
I rested my forehead on his chest. A week wasn’t enough time to make up for what had happened in the past. On the other hand, there wasn’t any time for regret, either.
Standing on my tiptoes, I murmured, “First one to the shower wins.”
/> “And what would I win?” he asked.
I ducked out of his arms, and ran through the living room.
I called over my shoulder, “You have to win to find out.”
* * *
In my kitchen, Ash sat facing me, with my feet resting on his lap. The afternoon sun streaming in through the window illuminated the chestnut highlights in his tousled hair. I was wearing his shirt again. Ash was finishing off the last of the ice cream, his bare chest on display. My master plan for taking his shirt in the first place. He smiled as he sucked the last swirl of chocolate chip ice cream from the spoon.
“You’re going to have to give it up at some point,” he said.
“It’s mine now.” I smirked. He should’ve known better—any t-shirt of his left lying around unattended was automatically mine for the taking. “Finders keepers, losers weepers.”
He pointed the plastic spoon at me. “You’re going to be the one crying if you don’t give me my favorite shirt back, brat.”
“Favorite?” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, now you’re never going to get it back.”
He set the spoon on the table, and stroked a spiral around the delicate bones of my ankle. His fingers were cold from holding the ice cream carton. I squirmed in my seat, quivering in anticipation from the feathery touches. He skimmed up the skin of my calf. Interesting approach, changing tactics when threats made with plastic cutlery fail. Then he went in for the kill, and tickled in that spot, right under my knee.
“No!” I shrieked. “Stop, you jerk!”
I jackknifed out of my chair, trying to get away from those evil fingers. He pulled me down on his lap. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one in the room with a master plan.
“I’ll get my shirt back if it’s the last thing I ever do,” he playfully growled in my ear. I nestled into him and he covered me with his arms.
