“Yes.” She kisses me, her lips soft and damp and I immediately want more. More kisses, more touches, more Reverie. “Please?”
We’re quiet. My brain is going a hundred miles a minute and I can only imagine what she’s thinking. “I won’t force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” I say, wanting to reassure her. “You understand that, right? You can say no. I won’t be angry.”
“I know. But I…I want to do things. With you. Only you.” She slings her arms around my neck and clings to me. “I want you to teach me.”
Damn, this girl… “Teach you what?” I ask hoarsely.
“Everything. I want to know everything. About intimacy and love and…sex.” She stumbles over the last word, which I think is kind of cute. And I swear there’s a faint pink flush in her cheeks. She’s blushing. Even after everything we’ve shared. And everything we’re about to share.
“We’ll take it slow,” I tell her. “And I’ll make it good for you, whatever happens. I promise.”
“You already do that,” she says, her smile shy, yet her voice sultry. I don’t know how she does that, the innocent plus sexy thing she has going on, but I love it.
Probably a little too much.
“Come on.” I withdraw from her, not letting go of her hand. I want to keep us connected. This moment we’re about to create feels…larger than life. Like we’re about to turn another corner in our relationship. “Let’s lock up and get ready for bed.”
“Bed?” She flashes me that same shy smile, though it’s a little bigger this time. “That sounds so…”
“Scandalous? Wicked?” I waggle my brows at her, trying to lighten the moment.
She bursts out laughing. “I was going to say normal.” Her laughter dies as she stares at me. “You make me feel so normal. There’s always a label on me. Reverend Hale’s daughter. The little girl who used to sing hymns on TV. The religious girl at school other girls are afraid to talk to for fear I’m some preaching freak who wants to talk about God all the time.” Her voice drifts off, the sad expression on her face tearing me up inside. I hate it when she’s sad.
“Do people really think that?” I ask.
“Oh yeah.” She nods. “But you never have. You didn’t even know who I was.” And she sounds downright thrilled by it too.
“I knew you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen,” I admit softly, making her smile.
She pulls me to her and kisses me right on the jaw. “Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s go to bed.”
We walk through the small apartment shutting off lamps and hitting light switches. She grabs her purse and brings it with her as we go to my bedroom, smiling shyly at me as I open the door. I’d left the bedside lamp on last time I went in there and now it casts a gentle glow throughout the room, which is small but somewhat decent thanks to some massive cleanup I’ve been performing the last few days when I could find the time.
“It’s nice,” she says as she steps inside, looking everywhere. At the walls, at my tiny desk, at the bookshelf Mom and I put together when I was in the eighth grade. “It’s so small.”
“My mom’s stuff is still in the master,” I say. “I just…don’t have the heart to change it. Not yet.”
“Oh.” She turns to face me, pity and sadness etched all over her delicate features. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’re not ready to move everything out yet.”
“No, I’m not.” She gets it and I love that about her. I don’t think anyone has ever understood me like Reverie does. “It’s still too soon. It’s not even been six months.”
“That is way too soon. You can clean it out when you’re ready. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks,” she reassures me, her gaze dropping to the bed. She chews on her lower lip nervously. “Your bed looks…comfortable.”
A simple navy blue comforter covers it. I’ve had the bed since I was twelve. It’s seen better days and it’s a double so it’s not very big but Reverie and I will fit. We’ll just have to lie real close together.
Such a hardship.
“It’s all right,” I say. “You want to test it out?” Her jaw drops and I chuckle. “What? Isn’t that why you’re here? To test out my bed?”
“I’m here because I want to spend time with you.” She reaches out and pulls at the bottom of my T-shirt, her hand sneaking underneath it, fingers tickling my stomach and making the muscles flinch. She flashes a knowing glance and just like that I’m hard. “And because I want to spend the night in your bed.”
“I knew it. You’re just using me for my bed.” I grab her by the waist, shocking her when I take her down with me so we’re both falling onto the mattress in a tangled heap. She’s struggling to get out of my hold, hitting my chest, laughing as I tickle her ribs. I coast my hands up, up further until they’re just below her breasts, and I’m smoothing my thumbs along the bottom of her bra.
She stills, her breath hitching in her throat and I stare at her, waiting for some sign of approval. Not even a minute in and I might’ve already pushed her too far. I start to withdraw when she subtly arches her back, filling my hands with her breasts.
There’s my answer.
Relief flooding me, I crash my lips onto hers, the touch of her tongue against mine sends a shockwave pulsating through my body. Her arms come up to weave around my neck, her fingers tunneling in my hair and holding me to her. Like I’m going to escape or something and she needs to grip me tight.
As if she has to worry about that. Wrapped around her on my bed is the only place I want to be.
I’m hungry. Fucking starved for more of her. I deepen the kiss, rolling her over so she’s on her back and I’m above her. All I can hear is our accelerated breaths, the creak of the mattress beneath us as we shift and move, the gasp that escapes her when I break away from her intoxicating lips to run my tongue along the length of her neck. Fuck, she tastes amazing.
“Oh,” she chokes out, sounding as overwhelmed as I feel.
The thin straps of her sundress are barriers I can definitely conquer. I ease one off her shoulder, along with the thin, lacy strap of her bra, my mouth blazing a path across her skin. She shivers, her hands falling to my shoulders and squeezing. Clinging to me.
I’m moving too fast. I can sense it. I need to slow down but I can’t seem to control myself. She’s not stopping me either. The sounds she makes, the way she moves against me is nothing but pure encouragement and I grab hold of the hem of her skirt, lifting it. Slow and easy, until it’s bunched around her waist and I see nothing but legs.
And thin, lacy little pale pink panties.
Closing my eyes briefly, I shake my head and lift away so I’m on my haunches in front of her. She lays there, unmoving, her eyes wide and luminous as she watches me. She props herself up on her elbows, her long hair swaying as she tilts her head to the side. “Everything okay?” she asks shakily.
“I should be the one asking you that.” I press my lips together, my gaze falling to her panties. My blood runs hot and straight between my legs and a pained sound escapes me. She is pure temptation. I want to slip my fingers beneath the lace. Touch her and find out just how hot and wet she is. Drive her wild until she’s writhing and gasping out my name.
“I don’t want to stop.” She shifts up and pulls her sundress over her head, throwing it onto the floor. The bra matches the panties. Seeing her like this, the reverend’s sexy daughter half naked and ready to give her body to me, I feel like I’m going to die. “Take off your shirt?” Her voice goes shy and soft and without hesitation I do as she requests, tugging my shirt off, relieved that the cooler air soothes my heated skin.
I’m on fire for her. Absolutely on fucking fire. The front of my jeans strain and I’m scared to strip off any more clothing for fear I’ll freak her out and send her running.
“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” she whispers as she scoots closer and rests her hands on my chest. Her gentle touch makes me flinch and she jerks away but I shake my head.
“Don’t stop,” I murmur, almost repeating what she said a minute ago.
Smiling up at me, she comes even closer, her hands on my chest, pushing me gently so I fall back onto the bed. She follows after me, her mouth at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and I sink my hands into her hair, holding her close. Her bare, soft skin on mine is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Sparks ignite where her mouth presses and I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation of her silky hair dragging across my chest as she moves over me. We shouldn’t be doing this. But I’m sure as hell not going to stop.
I don’t know if I can ever stop.
(July 28th, 4:23 a.m.) I’m writing this in the notes section of my phone because I want to remember this moment forever. The moment where I fell into Nicholas Fairfield’s arms. In his bed. Where I let him take off my clothes and I took off his and we did things. Incredible things that made my body feel like it broke into a million tiny little pieces and he’s the only one who can put me back together again.
I’m forever changed by this experience, and I don’t regret doing it. I know I made a promise to my father and to God that I would remain pure but it’s so difficult. Nicholas Fairfield is pure temptation to me. Delicious, perfect, wonderful, sexy temptation.
Now I understand why people do what they do for love and sex. I finally get it.
We didn’t go all the way because I wasn’t ready and Nick respected that. But we did just about everything else. The way he touches me…with his hands. His mouth. OMG his mouth. I’ve never experienced anything that felt so deliciously good. And the way he looked at me when he pulled off my dress and saw my bra and matching undies. I’ve never had someone look at me like that. Ever.
I’m in love. Definitely in love with Nick. I can’t deny it. He’s the perfect one for me. The only one for me.
I can only hope I’m the perfect one for him.
Sin: a deliberate violation of a religious or moral principle
July 28th
I wake up to sunlight blasting through my cracked open blinds. I throw an arm up, warding off the bright light and I sink my head back onto my pillow, tugging a sleeping Reverie closer. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts and her back is to my front, her butt nuzzled right up against me and damn, minus the semi-open blinds, this is the best possible way to wake up in like, forever.
A knock sounds on the door, startling me and I wonder if that’s what woke me in the first place.
“Who is that?” Reverie asks, her voice sleepy and so damn sexy.
“Don’t know and don’t care.” I bend down and press a lingering kiss to her bare shoulder. She has the smoothest, most fragrant skin in the whole entire world. I could spend hours kissing her everywhere.
I did just that last night and long into the early morning too. Just remembering the sounds she made, the way she looked when I made her come for the first time…
Another knock sounds on my door, this one longer and harder.
“Sounds like they certainly care,” Reverie says, pointing out the obvious. “Maybe it’s important? Someone you know?”
I hope to hell it’s not someone I know. There are only a handful of people who’d be knocking on my door and I don’t want to see any of them. “They can come back later. Or call me. The people who matter in my life have my number.” The moment I say it I realize there’s really no one in my life who matters. The only person who really does is lying with me in my arms. I’ve become wholly dependent on Reverie.
Fucking scary.
We’re quiet for a moment. I almost feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting for the knocking to start up again. But it doesn’t. Whoever was at my door must’ve left.
“I don’t have your number,” she finally says, her voice almost as soft as her fingertips on my skin. She’s tracing circles on my chest and it’s driving me crazy. “You’ve never given it to me.”
Surprise fills me. “I didn’t know you had a cell. We’ve never talk about it.” Kinda weird. She’s a girl. I thought they all lived on their phones.
“That’s because my parents took mine away. I begged my mom to give it back for my birthday but she didn’t. Until a few days ago. She called it a late present.” She’s silent for a moment and then she continues hesitantly. “She said I-I finally earned their trust back.”
She sniffs and dread fills me. I slip my finger under her chin and tip her face up. Her eyes are luminous and her lower lip trembles. “What’s wrong?”
“I feel guilty.” She shakes her head, a tear falling from the corner of her eye and sliding down her cheek. I stop it with my thumb. “I earned back their trust when really I’m being s-so b-bad. I’ve committed a sin, Nick. My parents would be so disappointed in me if they ever found out.”
Guilt fills me too. We’ve been almost borderline obsessive with each other these past few weeks. Sneaking glimpses of each other where we can. Kissing behind the stables, behind the house, in the woods, in my truck, on the beach…
And now she’s spent the night at my place. We’ve gone farther than we ever have before. Our fooling around is putting her relationship with her parents at risk. Putting her relationship with God and herself at risk too. Making her question her morals…
I didn’t have a religious upbringing. I know about right and wrong but I never had the fear of God put in me. I have no idea what that’s like, to have such strong beliefs.
“I should take you home,” I say firmly, moving away from her so I can sit up.
“Okay.” She scoots back until she’s leaning against the wall, freaking adorable wearing my T-shirt, her face bare of makeup, her hair a disheveled mess around her head. “I-I’m sorry, Nick.”
“For what?” Shit. Is she sorry we got involved? Sorry that she spent the night? Sorry that she’s going to have to break it off? My mind is awhirl with possibilities, all of them terrible.
“I don’t know. For being such a good girl? I can’t even rebel properly I swear.” She climbs out of bed and starts pacing. Her legs look amazing and I wonder exactly what she has on beneath my T-shirt. “You must think I’m completely ridiculous.”
I run a hand through my hair, then scratch my chest. “I think you’re completely normal. I’m not surprised you feel guilty. You never rebel. You’re always the good girl.” Until she met me. And that means I’m no good for her.
“Good girls are boring.” She throws her hands up in the air, which makes the T-shirt rise. Her back is to me and I catch a glimpse of her ass cheeks and my body instantly reacts.
Well. That confirms she’s wearing nothing under the shirt.
“You are definitely not boring,” I tell her, my voice low, my thoughts dirty.
Reverie whirls around, her hair flying out behind her as she faces me. “Do you like me, Nick?”
Her abrupt question surprises me, knocking aside my dirty thoughts. “Well, yeah…I like you, Reverie.”
“How much do you like me? I know you said before you don’t want to see anyone else but…what are we doing exactly?”
“I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “I like you. I love spending time with you. We’ve had a lot of fun together. But you’re going back to L.A. at the end of the summer. Going back to school. And I’ll be here. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
“So what you’re saying is this is temporary.” She crosses her arms in front of her, the T-shirt riding up and my gaze drops.
“How can it be anything else?” I ask, my eyes locked on her upper thighs.
She emits an irritated noise and dips down, plucking her dress off the floor before she storms out of my bedroom and into the tiny bathroom down the hall, slamming the door behind her. I flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, blowing out a harsh breath.
I was honest with her. What’s wrong with that? This is for the best, I tell myself. I care for her. What we’ve shared these past few weeks has been…mind blowing in the best way possible.
But it’s not meant to last. It can’t. No ma
tter how much I don’t want that to be true.
I crawl out of bed and shuffle through the apartment, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom telling me that Reverie is taking a shower. I go to the front door and open it, surprised to see a taped folded note fluttering in the breeze.
Tearing it off the door, I open the piece of paper and read it.
You wouldn’t answer your door. I’m guessing you were too busy with the pretty blonde who stayed the night? Who’s the lucky girl? Maybe all three of us could have a little fun sometime…
xoxo
Krista
I crumple the note in my hand as I slam the door, fury racing through me. Fucking Krista. When did she see us? Is she spying on me? What the hell is wrong with her?
My phone rings from where I left it on the kitchen counter the night before and I jog over to answer it, grimacing when I see who the caller is.
“What do you want?” I answer, my voice low.
“Ah, there you are. I’m guessing you slept in with your little love bug?” Krista’s voice is extra sweet, edged with obvious sarcasm and a hint of anger.
“Fuck off.”
She laughs. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
“I’m serious, Krista. Stay out of my business. We’re not together. We haven’t been together for a long time.”
“Do you think you can just use me whenever you want, then toss me aside when you find someone prettier and sweeter? Because she looks terribly sweet, Nicky. So sweet she gave me a toothache when I first saw her. Does she know about your past? About your time in jail? I mean, we know you weren’t guilty of any crime, but spending that much time locked up with criminals has to affect a person and not in a positive way. I bet she’d be shocked to hear that story.” Krista continues laughing and I grit my teeth, wishing I could reach through the phone and strangle her.
His Reverie Page 15