“If you want.”
We stood in front of my bathroom mirror, brushing our teeth together. We’d done it before, but it still felt like we were two little kids having a sleep-over, getting ready for bed together.
He grinned. “What?”
“Nothing,” I said shyly.
When we finished brushing, he stood by the bathroom door, gesturing back into my bedroom. “After you.”
“Oh my god, I’m so nervous.”
“Relax. It’s going to be fine.”
Somehow, I knew it was. Because I was with Christos. Then panic seized me. I slapped my forehead. “Wait!”
“What?”
“I don’t have any condoms! Do you have any condoms? I’m not on the pill.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I don’t.”
“Don’t you carry a condom in your wallet like most guys?”
“I used them.”
“Them? As in, plural?”
He raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. He was about to say something.
“Stop! I don’t want to know.” I sighed. “So what do we do now?”
“We go buy some.”
“We?” I said nervously. The idea of walking into a store and buying condoms seemed like something you were supposed to do while wearing a trench coat, a wide-brimmed hat, and dark glasses to hide your face. “Can’t we order some online? Rush delivery?”
“What, from 24HourCondoms.com?”
“They deliver, don’t they?”
He smirked, “I don’t think they even exist.”
My shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“Don’t worry, Samantha. Everyone has sex. No one’s going to judge you for buying condoms. Last time I checked, safe sex is cool.”
“Yeah, but the cashier will be looking at me thinking about how I’m going to be having sex with you later. Maybe we could ask the cashier to join us? Maybe film it?” I joked nervously.
“Isn’t there some slogan like, ‘If you’re afraid to buy condoms, you shouldn’t be having sex’?”
“I think it’s, ‘If you need condoms, ask your boyfriend to buy them while you wait in the car.’”
“Mmmm…no.” He smiled compassionately. “Let’s go.”
“All right,” I sighed. “But I’m wearing a ski mask.”
“They’ll think you’re going to rob the place if you do that.”
“That’s a great idea!” I beamed. “They’ll never know who we are! And we can steal them! Do you have a gun? We’ll need it for the stick up.”
He shook his head. “Uh, no.”
“You don’t have a gun? Okay. Maybe Walmart is still open?”
“No.”
“Are they closed?” I asked, worried. “It’s not that late.”
Christos rolled his eyes. “No, we’re not buying a gun. Let’s go.”
“We’re just going to shoplift them? Five-finger the condoms, one for each finger?”
“No, Samantha. We’re going to pay for them. Like adults.”
“Fiiiiiine,” I groaned. I grabbed my purse and we went out the door together.
SAMANTHA
I drove us in my VW to the grocery store. Holding hands, Christos and I walked down an aisle until we stopped at the condom display.
“Which ones should we get?” I asked bashfully.
He scanned the packages hooked to the display. “I’m looking for my favorites.”
“You have a favorite?” I grimaced
“Yeah, why?”
“That’s so weird!”
“Do you have a favorite tampon?” he said cockily.
“Yeah?”
“Exactly,” he grinned.
“That’s different!”
“Really?” he said thoughtfully. “How?”
“Because I go through a dozen tampons a month!”
“I go through more than that.”
Confused, I said, “you don’t wear tampons!”
“Nope.” he smiled that stupid cocky smile again.
“Oh,” I grimaced, “…are you talking about rubbers?”
“Yep.”
“That you use when you’re—!!”
“Yep.”
“Christos!”
“Samantha!” he mocked.
“How much sex do you have?! Wait! Don’t answer that!” I jammed my fingers in my ears.
He pulled my fingers out of my ears. “Since I decided I wanted to be more than your mentor? None.”
Phew. That definitely made me feel better. But there was still the issue of quantity to consider.
“Let me get this straight.” I started ticking off on my fingers the number of times he…you know…per month. I gave up. I didn’t have enough fingers. “You have sex, what, every day?”
“Usually. Until I knew you were the woman I’d been waiting for my entire life.”
Swoon. Wait, he was getting me off track. “So, since you started dating me, you’ve gone from doing the deed daily to never? For months? Isn’t that like, physically impossible for men? To go so long without, you know?”
He hung his head pathetically. “It’s been a rough two months.”
“Oh, Christos,” I placed my palm on his cheek consolingly, “you must be like a parched man in the desert begging for a glass of water.”
His cocky grin spiraled into a dimple. “More like a guy with two hand grenades between his legs with their pins pulled out, or two swollen balloons filled with—”
“I get the idea!” I said, jamming my palm against his chest. “If the pressure isn’t released soon, your boilers are gonna explode or your volcano is going to erupt,” I mocked.
He grinned. “It isn’t that bad. I do have a hand,” he said calmly.
“You are such a perv!”
He chuckled some more.
Despite my semi-disgust at this topic of conversation, I couldn’t stop myself from imagining his now-defunct harem of harlots parading around the site of where his manly edifice jutted up mightily from God’s green earth. I pictured a large circle of cavorting concubines with flowers in their hair and wearing short Grecian dresses while they held hands and danced around King Christos’ fleshy obelisk, preparing to sacrifice their virginity to the God of Love. All while a sweltering sun illuminated the ritual from the sky above.
Yeah, I was ready to change this subject.
Heedless of the fact we were in the middle of a grocery store, I said, “So, we came here to grab condoms so we could have sex. But now I’m feeling like I’m at the back of the unemployment line, waiting to pick up my check, and I’m the girl who gets to the counter last thing before closing, after five hundred other women who’ve already received payment from you have come and gone. Is that supposed to be romantic?”
“No payment ever changed hands, I swear,” he smirked confidently. “But I do accept tips.”
“It’s not funny, Christos,” I sulked.
He sighed. “Samantha, if you want to wait, that’s okay with me. But my history is never going to go away.”
I simmered.
“I’m sorry, Samantha. But that’s the facts. It’s who I am. Had you come into my life sooner, things would’ve been different. What can I say? I dropped all the women in my life the second I decided I was so deeply in love with you that I couldn’t live without you.”
I liked that last bit about him not being able to live without me, but I didn’t want to tell him that the phrase “dropping all the women in his life” made me imagine him coming home from the grocery store cradling paper grocery bags in his arms, the bags overflowing with dozens of miniature naked women, each with a label that read:
Step 1: Add water to create a full-sized floozy.
Step 2: Insert tab A into slot B.
Step 3: Repeat step 2 until desired result is achieved.
Step 4: Have fun!
I took a deep breath and let it out. I knew Christos was right. I had to accept him as-is. He was used goods. Or pre-owned, as the luxury car dealersh
ips liked to say.
Hold on. What was I thinking? Christos wasn’t an object. He was a person. And people were messy things. I was a recovering hot mess myself. I leaned into him. “You’re right, Christos. I’m sorry. I’m being totally lame.”
“It’s okay. I understand, agápi mou. But I want you to know that the last thing I thought about when I realized I was crazy in love with you was how we were going to work out the sex thing. I just thought about the fact that I desperately loved you and needed you in my life, no matter what. I figured everything else would work itself out if we loved each other. You love me, don’t you?”
I gazed into his mesmerizing blue eyes. They swallowed my heart every time. I also realized that this man standing in front of me had heard my darkest secrets, yet he still accepted me unconditionally. How could I give him any less of myself than everything?
“I do love you, Christos. I love you more than I ever thought I could love another human being.”
“You two are so darling together,” an old woman standing behind a grocery cart loaded with cheap wine said to both of us, her eyes twinkling.
OMG, How long had she been listening? She pushed her cart past us.
“Mmm, mmm,” she hummed, “young love gets me every time. You better hold onto this one,” she said to me as she squeezed my arm gently. “They broke the mold when they made him, I can tell you. I’ve been around the block once or twice in my time, and they don’t usually look like him. Mmmm, mmmm,” she shook her head. “And I suggest you buy the extra large,” she nodded toward the condoms.
I gasped. How the hell would she know that?
“It’s the hands,” she whispered surreptitiously, “I can always tell.” She nodded confidently as she walked away. “The hands,” she mouthed silently before turning the corner.
Christos did have ginormous hands.
“What she said,” Christos said with a pussy-eating grin on his face.
I say pussy-eating, because, based on the look in his eyes, that’s probably what he was thinking about right at that moment.
I’m only slightly ashamed to admit I was sort of thinking about it too.
And other things.
Christos finally grabbed a box from the display.
“That’s a big box!” I goggled. “How big are those extra large condoms?”
Gulp!
“The box is big because it has a lot of condoms,” he said.
“How many do we need?! Isn’t one enough?”
Christos smirked. “No.”
Double gulp!
“How many are in that box?” I asked.
“Thirty-six,” he said matter-of-factly.
Triple gulp!
“Should I get two boxes?” he asked casually, “so we can have more for tomorrow?”
“Uhhhh….” Part of me wanted to run screaming from the grocery store with my knees clamped together. I wouldn’t be running per se, it would be more of a potato-sack race-hop, but it would be effective. Instead of bolting for the door, I took a good look at Christos.
He was tall. Like, mythically tall. His face was model hot. He was extremely well-built. His chiseled, muscled arms, covered in sexy tattoos, danced hypnotically every time he moved them. I knew from first-hand experience that his eight pack was ribbed and rock hard. I would be lying if I denied that I wanted to learn everything I could about his hard things.
Oh yeah, and I loved him.
I think I was drooling.
Shiver.
Waiter! Check, please!
Oh wait, where was I again?
I think I’d just lost my mind.
Chapter 8
SAMANTHA
When we brought the box of condoms to the cashier, I decided to woman-up and proudly pay for them myself.
The cashier looked sort of like my dad, but had a mustache. Although this made me fidgety and uncomfortable, I was determined to go through with it. I almost blurted, “I’m buying condoms because my boyfriend and I are going to have sex right now.” Instead, I said, “We’re going to fill these up and have a water balloon fight.”
I grimaced because I half expected the guy to ask what we were going to fill them with. Eww.
Christos rubbed the small of my back while we walked to my car. “Well done, Samantha. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Except for the fact the cashier reminded me of my dad.”
“I noticed that.”
“Now it’s like my dad knows I’m about to have sex.”
“I’m pretty sure that guy doesn’t know your dad, but I can run back inside and give him your parents’ number, if you want,” Christos joked. “He can call them and let them know.”
“No, don’t!”
“Totally kidding,” he smiled.
I huffed a sigh, “Is it possible to have my anxiety surgically removed?” I asked.
“I don’t think so. But my bet is that you’re going to forget your own name in about an hour. An hour after that, you won’t even know what planet you’re on. And then…”
“Whoa, how long does sex take? I thought it was like ten or fifteen minutes, tops.”
“Maybe with an ordinary mortal,” he winked. “You might want to consider clearing you calendar for the rest of the week.”
“Get in the car!” I ordered. “Now!”
“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, and casually swung himself into the passenger seat of my VW.
If there were any stops signs or red lights between the grocery store and my apartment, I may have skipped one or two of them.
I was burning up when I pulled into my parking space and turned off the car. My nipples were tight against the cups of my bra. My panties were noticeably damp. I squirmed in my seat while my heart raced. I looked over at Christos.
“So, um, from this point forward,” I said nervously, “you’re pretty much in charge, because I have no idea how this is supposed to work.”
He leveled a penetrating gaze at me. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you still have the safe word, just in case.”
“You mean grapes?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think I’m going to need any fruit tonight. I’ve got you,” I winked.
“You going to peel my banana?”
“What?” I was confused. “Oh! No! Gross!”
He chuckled as we got out of the car. I held the bag with the condoms in my hand.
“Stay right there.”
“Okay.”
Christos came around to my side and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and we instantly started kissing. His tongue probed deeply into my mouth. I welcomed it. Our tongues danced and explored as our lips twisted wetly together.
We continued kissing while he carried me up the stairs to my apartment.
“I have to warn you,” he cautioned, “once we walk through this door, you may never want to come out.”
“I’m okay with that.”
Christos carried me inside and with a soft click, closed the door behind us.
I don’t know how long we made out in the living room with Christos holding me in his arms. My legs got tired at some point, but the way his strong hands cupped my ass made me want to stay right where I was. Not because I was scared to go further, but because he was kneading my ass, which sent pleasurable jolts rocketing throughout my entire body.
I was vaguely aware of the fact that his rock hard arms were like steel, and he never seemed to tire, like he could hold me up forever. His unshakable strength made me even hotter.
Eventually, I did drop the bag of condoms on the floor.
Christos gave a throaty chuckle. “Maybe we should use those.”
“I’m ready when you are,” I smiled.
He squatted down, still holding me with one arm, picked up the bag, and carried me into my bedroom.
He set me down on the bed and looked at me. He was so impressively tall. From this angle, he looked like a mountain tow
ering above me.
“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.
“A little,” I said in a quavering voice. By a little, I meant more nervous than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
He sat down on the bed beside me. He no longer felt imposing. He felt protective. His hand stroked my cheek, brushing my hair aside. “It’s okay, agápi mou. Right now, I bet your head is telling your heart to be careful. It’s trying to protect it the best way it knows how. But I think if you look into your heart, you will realize how much I love you.”
I gazed up into his eyes. “I do love you, Christos. More than I know how to say. I love you…but I’m still nervous.” I was afraid my reluctance would break the fledgling magical enchantment that surrounded us and ruin the mood before we could go all the way. At the same time, I was frightened of what was supposed to come next between a man and woman in love.
“You know what?” he asked.
I suddenly feared the worst.
“You just need to relax. You’re never going to enjoy this if you don’t.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I murmured while my eyes teared. I covered my face with my hands. I didn’t want him to see my fear.
I felt gentle fingers on my wrists, pulling my hands away.
“Don’t worry, agápi mou. I’ll show you how. Lie down.”
My heart seized, afraid of what came next. Old memories of Damian punched my heart.
Bitch. Slut. Whore…
I wanted to sob, but I did my best to hold it back.
Christos looked at me with ultimate concern in his eyes. “What is it, agápi mou?”
“It’s Damian,” I hitched, “I can’t stop thinking about that night. Like it’s happening right now. Like, any second, I might change my mind, and if I do, you’ll get angry and yell at me and throw me out.”
He smiled. “I can’t throw you out of your own apartment.” His grin was so friendly, so comforting, it calmed me. “Besides, Lamian isn’t in this room. It’s just the two of us.”
I giggled when he said “Lamian.” He was right. I didn’t want phantoms from my past invading my present. I steeled myself and did my best to prepare. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“You’re not relaxing.”
“I…I don’t know how!” I pleaded, about to shed tears.
“You will in a second. Turn over.”
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