by Eva Luxe
“We’d better be fast,” Wesley says, taking his clothes off and looking around as if he’s waiting for my dad to show up any minute.
I admire his abs, chest and tattoos again before taking off my own clothes.
He pulls me down onto the bed and starts working my clit with his tongue.
“This feels even better than the thrill of getting you to ride that roller coaster with me,” I tell him.
I shift my position so that I can put his cock in my mouth. I lick it up and down as he licks my pussy.
“Fuck yeah,” he moans. “This is what I’m talking about.”
He’s shoving his cock into my mouth and I’m riding his face.
He takes my clit in between his teeth and gently sucks on it until I’m going wild.
“I’m coming,” I say— or try to say— but my mouth is completely full of his large and throbbing cock.
“Hold on,” he says, as soon as I finish. “I want to come inside you.”
He gets on top of me and looks down at me, his brown hair spilling over his handsome face.
Missionary style. This is the position I’d always assumed I’d be in when I lost my virginity. But somehow it feels right to only now be doing it with Wesley.
“I love your body and I love the way you suck my cock,” he says, as he pushes himself inside me.
I wrap my legs around his hips and feel him deep inside me.
“I love your wet, tight pussy,” he continues. “And your perfect breasts.”
He takes my breasts in his hands and squeezes them, and my nipples tingle along with my clit.
“You’re going to make me come again,” I tell him.
“Good,” he says, as he rides me hard and wild. “Because I love to make you come. I love when you make me come.”
I feel a huge wave rush through my body and I know that he’s feeling the same thing. His cock pulsates inside me.
“I love everything about you,” he moans, as we come together. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, with what little energy I have left. “I’m so fucking tired now. I just want to fall asleep.”
“Well let me get out of here before you do,” he says, kissing me on the top of my head. “Because I’m still scared of your father. He still holds a lot of power over my career.”
“You’ll be fine,” I tell him. “I’m pretty sure he knows what’s up.”
“But I don’t want to rub it in his face,” he says. “Plus, it’s fun to have to keep some parts of our relationship a secret. You’re still the coach’s forbidden daughter in some ways. And that’s hot.”
“You’re hot,” I say, as he throws his clothes back on— to my chagrin— and heads out the door in a hurry.
Even though I’m tired, there’s something I want to do. I reach under the bed and pick up my two stuffed animals.
I put them on the bedside table, knowing it’s the last time I’ll ever talk to the one from my mom again.
“Thanks for always being there for me,” I tell its beady eyes. “But I don’t need you any more. I know my mom will always be here with in spirit. And I have Wesley here for me now too.”
I feel a little guilty, so then I add, “Don’t worry. You have the bear that Wesley won me to keep you company now. There’s no need for anyone to feel lonely anymore.”
Epilogue – Chelsea
My dad’s and Sherry’s wedding reception has been a big hit. The food is delicious and the drinks are flowing.
“And now we have a very special dance,” the DJ announces. “It’s a father- daughter dance, between the groom and his daughter Chelsea.”
The spotlight is on Dad and me now, and all of his and Sherry’s wedding guests cheer. My brother is here, which is great because I haven’t seen him in quite a while.
The entire football team is also in attendance, including Wesley of course. Last season the Wildcats were football conference champions and this season is already shaping up to be even better than last year.
As Dad and I dance to “Butterfly Kisses,” I swear I see tears well up in his eyes. That’s a rare thing, because he almost never cries.
“It was a beautiful wedding ceremony, Dad,” I tell him, not mentioning his tears. “Everything was absolutely perfect. And now this reception is rocking. Good job.”
“Thank you for your support,” he says. “I know it was hard to get used to the idea of Sherry and me being together, and I would never want to replace your mother…”
“I know,” I tell him, squeezing his shoulder.
And it’s true. I was filled with joy at the wedding, seeing him happier than he’d been since my mom was here with us. “
“And I know that mom would be glad that you’re happy, just like I am,” I tell him.
I adjust the boutonniere he’s wearing. It’s a daisy, my mom’s favorite flower, in her honor. There’s one in my hair, too. And I read a Pablo Neruda poem during the ceremony.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
It felt like an homage to the way the relationship started out between my dad and Taylor’s mom. And also the way that my relationship with Wesley started out. Now we can all have public relationships, but they began as something to be cherished privately.
As dad and I dance, I think about how happy I am that everything has turned out even better than I could possibly hope for. When the song ends, the DJ clears his throat.
“And now the groom’s daughter and the bride’s daughter would like to pay tribute to their parents,” he says. “So they’ve prepared a surprise.”
“What?” My dad asks, his mouth open.
“Come on,” I say, leading him over to a chair beside Sherry.
Taylor is already walking over to the DJ’s booth to collect the pom-poms we had hidden there prior to the reception starting. “
“You know that Taylor and I have a flair for the dramatic,” I tell him. “You had to be expecting this.”
“Y'all ready for this?” blasts over the speakers, and Taylor and I begin the routine I’d choreographed, which is an Evolution of Dance sequence that goes through songs reminiscent of my dad and Sherry.
Taylor and I start with “My Girl,” and then our entire squad joins in for “Hooked on a Feeling,” “Treasure” and “The Way You Look Tonight.”
They do a fantastic job, but I’d expect nothing less. We ended up winning Nationals, and this year with a strong crop of new cheerleaders joining us— and the return of Mandy, who successfully completed physical therapy and rehab— we’re an even better squad that will undoubtedly win again.
Everyone was very supportive during Christian’s trial, and he’ll be locked up for a very long time. Testifying was difficult because it forced me to remember and relive that awful day but I’m glad that all of that ended before my dad’s wedding, so that now I can just relax and enjoy it.
Finally, Taylor and I finish up with rewritten words to The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air song that we rap while the rest of our squad members dance. At the end, we do the victory cheer we always perform after the Wildcats win, which is also switched up to be personalized for my dad and Sherry.
Let’s go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
He’s Coach Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
And she’s Sherry Hudson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Way to go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Way to marry Hudson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
We’ll go to their wedding
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
They’ll live happy ever after
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Let’s go Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Mr. and Mrs. Thompson
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
Go on your honeymoon
&nb
sp; (Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
And to your happy ever after
(Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
We kick our legs and throw our pom poms in the air, and Mandy does a backflip for the grand finale.
“Thank you, Sweetheart!” My dad says, as all the wedding guests join us in clapping.
“That was lovely,” Sherry agrees.
Later, after a fun night full of lots of dancing, toasting and celebrating, it’s indeed time for the newly married couple to leave for their honeymoon in the Caribbean.
“Wait,” says Sherry. “I have to throw my bouquet first!”
The DJ starts playing “All the Single Ladies,” and a bunch of us dutifully lineup behind her.
“One, two, three…” she says, and then tosses it over her head.
As it arches perfectly straight in my direction, I know it’s meant to be, but I still feel rather nervous and embarrassed.
“Chelsea! You’re next!” Sherry says, as she turns around and doesn’t seem surprised at all that I caught it. She winks at me.
“No pressure,” she tells Wesley.
“Have a great honeymoon!” I tell her and my dad one last time, to change the subject.
Taylor says the same thing, and then my dad and Sherry run off to their limo.
“I still can’t believe your dad and my mom got married,” Taylor says, scrunching up her face in mock disgust, and looking like the little girl I knew when I was eight years old.
“Me neither,” I tell her. “But I love you. And I guess we really are sisters now.”
“I love you too,” she says, and hugs me.
Wesley’s standing beside me, still looking shell shocked by the fact that I caught the bouquet, I guess.
“How mortifying,” I tell Wesley. “Don’t worry. It’s just a silly wedding tradition.”
But then he’s down on one knee, looking up at me with an excited grin and I realize what his expression had been about.
He looks even more nervous and excited than right before we rode The Beast for the first time. We’ve been there quite a few times in the year we’ve been together since then.
“What?” I ask, but everyone around me begins to clap.
He pulls out a small box and opens it up.
It’s my mom’s engagement ring, which my dad had given her. I’d recognize it anywhere, as she’d worn it ever since I can remember and then I used to go into her top dresser drawer and look at it after she had passed away.
“If you want something different, of your own…” Wesley starts to say, as he sees me looking down at it.
“No, it’s perfect,” I tell him.
I bend down and hug him, not caring who can see me cry.
“Thank you!” I tell him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“So I guess that’s a yes?” he says, sincerely looking relieved.
“You haven’t even asked her yet, you moron,” one of the other football players shouts from the crowd, and everyone laughs.
“Oops.”
His brown eyes stare straight at me.
This is the bad boy I thought would never be mine.
Down on one knee, looking up at me.
“Chelsea Thompson, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
He scoops me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. We kiss and kiss and kiss, until his teammates and my squad members are all groaning and telling us “Enough, already.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” I repeat. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Chelsea. So fucking much. I’m so glad I’ll get to ride this ride called Life with you forever.”
Thank you for reading. Another bonus book follows for your continued reading enjoyment!
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SEAL’s Virgin: A Bad Boy Military Romance
Copyright 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 1
Okay, I can do this. I can have an orgasm.
I lie back on my bed, feeling stupid. This is definitely not how I'd expected to start off my morning. But my friend Brynn had dared me to try it, after last night had turned out a lot more disappointing than I'd expected.
I was supposed to go on a date with my boyfriend Charles but he never called. He'd been at a golf tournament with some clients of our law firm and he'd texted me at around eight o'clock p.m. to say that the "entertainment" of said clients was running late.
So, I'd called Brynn and she'd told me come over for a bottle of merlot. Of course I went right over, since I had nothing better to do and since Brynn is my BFF. Also, because I needed wine.
"I really thought Charles might be the one I’d lose my virginity to," I'd confessed to Brynn.
Brynn's one of the few people who know that I still have my virginity. We've been friends for a long time and she’s never teased me about it like the few others had when they'd first found out.
"Now I'm thinking that's a lost cause. Just like the few other boyfriends I've had, he's just not special enough. He'd rather blow me off than… let me blow him."
Brynn had laughed and then said, "I think that's your problem, Riley. You want your first time to be so special, with 'the right guy.' You should just let loose and go with it, see what happens."
"With Charles?" I'd asked her, scrunching up my nose skeptically.
She shrugged.
"Well, if you guys can work out whatever's been going on with you this time around, then maybe. Although, it seems like maybe you both know it's time to call it quits, but neither of you wants to be the one to push the 'End’ button."
"Again," I’d added her to her statement. "Neither of us want to be the one to push the 'End' button once again, after we've re-started it so many times."
Charles and I had broken up so often it wasn't even funny. I don't even know why we keep trying. Except that his dad, Jack Holt, is the founding partner of our law firm, and pressures him to stay with a "rising star" at the firm, such as myself. He thinks my ambitious attitude will rub off on his son, who would rather play video games than write briefs.
"When I really face the truth, Charles and I are together for all the wrong reasons," I'd confessed to Brynn. "I used to think he only stayed with me because his dad wanted him to, and that's probably true. But then, why do I stay with him when he keeps ditching me for better plans? I suppose I like that the founding partner of the firm wants me to be dating his son. I'm afraid I won't be able to stand on my own two feet without him propping me up."
"Don't be ridiculous," Brynn had said. "You've always been a straight-A student. You’ve worked so hard on all your cases and you've more than earned your place at the firm. But I think change is just hard. It's easier to stay with the wrong person than take a step to be alone or find someone better."
"Yeah," I'd sighed, downing the rest of my wine.
Brynn had happily poured me another glass. And that’s why I love her.
"If you're going to break up with him, do it soon, so you can lose your virginity to someone else," Brynn then said, in her no- nonsense way. "And in the meantime, at least treat yourself to a mind-blowing orgasm."
I'd just looked at her, before finally finding the nerve to confess a secret even worse than the fact that I'm still a virgin.
"I… don't exactly know how to do that, either," I'd finally said.
"What?" she'd exclaimed, her eyes growing wide. "You don't masturbate?"
"It's not that I never have," I'd told her. "I just… haven't had the best luck so I don't get what it's all about."
"Girl, you've got to be kidding me," she'd said, standing up.
She went over to her bedside table, pulled something out of a drawer, and came back.
"Here," she said, handing me a silver, egg-shaped contraction wrapped in plastic. "Don't ever say I never gave you anything."
"What is this?"
I'd held the egg in my hand, realizing that I had an idea what it was, but feeling rather embarrassed.
"It's a magic bullet," she'd said. "Your own personal vibrator. Don't worry— I haven't used it. I just ordered a new one from Simple Pleasures because I wore my old one out. That’s how much I masturbate. And it’ll be hard not to have another one for a little while. But for you, I can wait and order a new one."
"Oh, my God," I'd said, blushing. "I can't believe you just have these things laying around."
"Whatever," she'd said, rolling her eyes at my innocence, as usual. "There are entire sex toy parties based off these things now. I'm hardly the only woman in America with a vibrator— or six— in my bedside stand."
"Six?"
"Riley," she'd told me, shaking her head. "Just try it. You'll love it. I promise."
So here I am. After way too much wine and too little sleep, I'd woken up at Brynn's house at five a.m. and bolted home. I hate trying to sleep after I've had too much to drink— I always wake up early and can never go back to sleep.
After lying down in my own bed and trying to fall back asleep for a while, I gave up. There's still half an hour before I have to start getting ready for work, so I take the "magic bullet" out of my purse and stare at it.
This is really it. My first orgasm. Here it comes.
I lie back on my pillow and spread my legs. I hit the "on" switch and put the vibrator up to my clit.
Mmmmm. That does feel good…
It hums against me, cold and metallic as it works its magic. I suppose it’s aptly named. I still feel silly getting so up close and personal with an inanimate object. I decide to think about Charles.
But I can't. After trying to picture him, all I can think of is the text he’d sent me last night, which had let me know once again exactly how unimportant I am to him. Not to mention the fact that he’d never followed up with another text.
How I wish I could be with a different guy— one who appreciates me and who wants me to be pleasured. Not just someone who is with me because his dad wants him to be. Because he's used to life being handed to him on a silver platter and to doing whatever Daddy wants, to make Daddy happy and his own life easier.
