by Carly Bloom
She stomped her foot. She wasn’t about to start thinking like this. Her confidence in her own body shouldn’t depend on anyone else’s opinions about it. And besides, there was no such thing as normal when it came to people’s genitals. She was perfectly fine.
She took down her ponytail and shook out her hair. Tonight, she was going to lose her—
There was no such thing as virginity.
She wasn’t going to lose a dang thing. She was going to have an experience. And she was going to have it with Beau!
She fanned her face with her hands. She absolutely had to cool down, because this outfit was probably highly flammable. She’d hate to set herself on fire with sheer embarrassment.
There was no need to be modest. Modesty, like virginity, was a social construct.
She opened the door. Beau was sitting on the couch, hunched over a book and mindlessly rubbing Sultana. Alice smiled as he dragged his finger across the page, pleased by how quickly it moved. For a moment, she almost forgot that she was dressed like a blow-up sex doll.
“Look at you being a bookworm,” she said, walking to the couch. “What are you reading?”
“I have no idea,” Beau said, turning the page and continuing to read. “I opened it up to a random page and landed right in the middle of a sex scene.”
It was next month’s book club selection, the virgin trope. She cleared her throat. “Speaking of sex scenes . . .”
Beau quickly shut the book. “Shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay—”
“Oh my God,” he said, glancing up for the first time. “You look . . .”
“Silly?”
Beau’s mouth had been hanging open, but he shut it and smiled. “That’s not what I was going to say at all, Miss Martin.”
Well, that was a relief.
Beau stood up, but his eyes didn’t make their way to hers. They roamed her body, taking in every detail. His cheeks were a bit flushed, and there was a very small and nearly indiscernible twitch happening at the corner of his mouth.
Reading people was hard, and it was especially difficult while wearing crotchless panties. Was he turned on? Or was he about to laugh? “I can’t tell what you’re thinking. And it’s making me really uncomfortable.”
“I’m thinking a lot of things.” He touched the hem of the teddy. “Like this must be itchy as hell.”
“It is,” Alice said, swatting at a ribbon. “And I’m sorry if it’s not visually stimulating.”
Beau let go of the teddy and took Alice’s hands in his. “Oh, darlin’. I am highly stimulated. Would you like to feel how much?”
Alice glanced down to where his thumbs gently brushed across her knuckles. There was a definite bulge straining against the fly of his jeans, and yes, she wanted to touch it.
She pressed her hand against him. He was so hard. And thick. And even though she didn’t entirely trust her ability to precisely assess measurement without a ruler (and was ashamed for even thinking about it), what was pressed into her palm was definitely longer than five point six inches, which was the average length of an erect penis.
“Can you feel what you do to me?” Beau whispered. “And it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. God, Allie. Just being near you makes me dizzy.”
That was so hard to believe, and yet, at this moment, she did. She believed him. She turned Beau on, and that made her feel sexy. And powerful.
She rubbed him, applying a little more pressure, and he groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder. He exhaled shakily right in her ear, and it made her warm and tingly.
“Should we head to the bedroom?” she asked.
Beau laughed softly, tickling her ear. “I’m not sure I can walk that far.”
An erection shouldn’t impede anyone’s ability to walk, so Beau was probably teasing. But he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move. He kissed the side of her neck before pulling away to stare into her eyes. The usual glint of mischief and mirth was there, but so was lust and desire. His lids looked heavy and sexy and this must be what people meant by bedroom eyes.
“I can’t decide if I want to walk to second base with my fingers,” he said. “Or lips.”
Why did he have to choose one or the other? Couldn’t he do both? And could he hear her pulse pounding, or was it only in her head?
“Fingers first, I think,” Beau said. “Then lips. Unless you have a preference? You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.”
That’s because words were bouncing around in her head like bumper cars—yes! and please! and both!—and refusing to hook up and form sentences.
Beau raised an eyebrow. “No opinion?”
He trailed a calloused finger across her collarbone and slipped the strap of the teddy down her shoulder. Alice’s instincts were to cover her breasts before they were completely exposed, but she kept her arms at her sides. She wanted to let Beau uncover her. And look at her . . .
The nylon lace of the teddy hung up on a very hard and perky nipple, and he seemed to like that. He let it rest there for a second before very slowly pulling it down, dragging the abrasive material over her sensitive skin.
Alice broke out in goose bumps. All over. There were apparently neural pathways from the nipples to everywhere in your body. Because she was lit up from head to toe.
Both nipples were exposed, and Beau was staring. “God. They’re perfect,” he whispered.
Breasts came in all shapes and sizes, and there was no standard of perfection. But Alice wasn’t going to argue. Her perfectly average breasts were very much in need of Beau’s attention. He trailed his fingers across them, up and down the sides. Across the tops and around the areolas. But he didn’t touch her nipples, and she was dying for him to. They were sensitive, even to her own touch. What would if feel like when Beau—
He seemed to read her mind and rubbed his rough, calloused palms gently over her nipples, making her gasp and squeeze her thighs together. She lost all train of conscious thought as her body became a mass of nerve endings and pleasure receptors. “Oh, Beau,” she whispered.
Beau dropped his head and kissed her neck. “You like that?”
She liked it so much, she couldn’t formulate a response.
Beau kissed down to her collarbone and then lower. Alice rose on her toes, trying to get her breasts closer to his mouth, and then she felt it. A single lick.
Ecstasy. She’d tried to imagine what it would feel like so many times, and she had a pretty good imagination. But she’d missed the boat. This felt better than anything she’d ever imagined. She moaned in delight as Beau flicked her nipple gently before taking the entire thing in his mouth and sucking. Her vagina clenched in response. She hadn’t known that could even happen without clitoral stimulation.
So far, sex with a partner was definitely better than solo good times.
Beau went to the other breast and gave it the same attention, and Alice couldn’t stay still. In fact, her pelvis seemed to have a mind of its own and was seeking Beau’s hard thigh. Or any part of him, really. It just needed some friction.
Beau appeared to sense her need, and while he gently sucked and flicked her nipple, his fingers trailed down her belly.
She shivered and trembled, enjoying the anticipation of what it was actually going to feel like when he touched her—
His fingers went between her legs, slipping through the opening in the crotchless panties, going right to her sensitive flesh that had never been touched by fingers other than her own. “Beau,” she whispered. “Oh, Beau.”
Beau jerked his head up and away from her breast as he removed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Allie. I didn’t mean to touch you like that.”
He didn’t? Why not? God, had he felt something weird? Something unexpected? Was she literally deformed and hadn’t known it? His touch had been so utterly thrilling and perfect that she hadn’t wanted him to stop.
“I just meant to touch you through the fabric,” Beau said. “I would never just, you know, barge in there like t
hat.”
He hadn’t exactly barged in. “Oh, well—”
“And I think you have a hole in your underwear,” he added.
“They’re crotchless panties,” she said.
Beau raised an eyebrow. Then he smiled. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Where on earth did you . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. And you’re sure you didn’t mind that I touched you like that? Without asking?”
If she’d been turned on before, she was about to explode now. Beau Montgomery, a small-town, big-ranch cowboy who’d never been out of the state of Texas, fully grasped the concept of consent. And it was because he was good. Big-hearted, kind, and sensitive. That was Beau through and through.
There couldn’t possibly be a better person to lose her—
To have this experience with.
“I want you to touch me everywhere,” she whispered.
He placed his fingers back where they were. “How about here?” he asked, keeping his eyes on hers as his fingers brushed her panties, seeking the slit in the crotch. They both sighed when his fingers slipped in, parting her labia and caressing her sensitive flesh.
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Is your clit sensitive?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over it gently and making Alice moan. “And yes, Miss Martin. I know where it is. Even with my eyes closed.”
Oh, did he ever. Alice rotated her hips, first one way, and then the other, trying to get him to apply pressure in just the right spot.
Nearly half of all men couldn’t properly identify the clitoris on a diagram. More than that couldn’t find it on an actual woman, and most didn’t know what to do with it if they did.
She sighed as her vagina clenched again.
Beau Montgomery was not most men.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Beau willed himself to slow down. This was a moment that he’d dreamed of. Actually, it was more than a moment. It was an event. A dream come true. Only what he’d dreamed of had been a teenage fantasy. What was actually happening was so much better.
He brought his fingers to his mouth for a quick taste, and it made him weak at the knees. Because the smell and taste of an excited woman was the biggest turn-on in the world. And tasting Alice—his Allie—was more than a turn-on.
It was fucking nirvana.
He ran his palms gently over Alice’s nipples, awed by the goose bumps breaking out all over her body. She was so sensitive. “I bet I could make you come just by playing with your breasts.”
Alice sighed and shuddered. “I doubt—”
He pinched a nipple.
“Oh,” Alice wheezed, squeezing her thighs together.
Beau covered the nipple with his mouth, and Alice made a low humming sound in her throat that set his senses on fire.
They probably should move things to the bedroom, but Beau was literally too impatient, so he sat on the couch and pulled Alice on top of him. Straddling him. In crotchless panties.
She kissed him, and it wasn’t a gentle librarian-style kiss. It was an impatient, hornier-than-hell kiss. She ran her hands through his hair while devouring his mouth, invading him with her tongue, as if she wanted to explore every nook and cranny.
Of course, she’d be thorough about it. And Beau didn’t mind at all. He was one hundred percent on board for letting horny-on-fire Alice do whatever she wanted to him. He’d let her set the pace. No problem.
She rose up on her knees and guided his face to her breasts. Her devastatingly perfect breasts. He had what felt like a brief out-of-body experience while his brain tried to accept the fact that he was finally with Alice. Like, really with her.
Mind, body, and soul.
Alice’s nipple brushed his cheek, and she moaned. Beau took her breast in his hand, kissed it, flicked the nipple with his tongue so Alice would make that sound again, and then he brushed it with his five o’clock shadow. Alice gasped, and he was worried he’d been too rough, but then she rubbed her nipple over his chin—where the whiskers were roughest—before teasing his lips.
He accepted the tantalizing nugget right into his mouth. Alice squirmed in response. Damn, she was cute when she was being driven crazy. And he was nowhere near done. He trailed his fingers up her inner thigh until Alice became very still. The only thing moving was her chest as she breathed, and Beau swore he could hear her heart pounding.
He brushed the edge of her panties. And then he touched right in the middle, where the slit in the crotchless panties was now spread wide open. His fingers met Alice’s flesh and she moaned and squirmed and rubbed herself all over him.
His finger was right there at her entrance, and she pressed against it. “Please Beau,” she whispered.
“Please what?”
“Can you . . .”
“You want me to finger you? Because that lands me squarely on third base, Miss Martin.”
Her eyebrows went up at the sound of finger you. But who didn’t like a bit of dirty talk? Also, if there was a technical term in Latin for the act, Alice would be sure to tell him.
She was practically sitting in his palm now, and she ground herself against him.
“Is that a yes?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
She’d said it so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her. He sensed an air of vulnerability, and it made him want to kiss her, to hold her, and to reassure her that he wanted her, and that he . . . Well, dammit. That he cared about her in a way he’d never cared about anybody.
He knew not to say it though. Instead, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, and she responded by deepening the kiss. And then very gently, he inserted his middle finger.
Alice stopped kissing him and froze. Then she dropped her head to his shoulder, breathing heavily against his neck. She made little sounds that began like kitten mews and evolved into soft moans when he crooked his finger and applied pressure right behind her pelvic bone, where women often liked it.
Alice’s moans became lower. Deeper. And she moved her hips in a way that nearly drove him mad. In a way that suggested she knew just how to fuck a man.
But he wasn’t interested in his own pleasure. He was only interested in hers.
“Is this okay?” he asked. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes,” Alice gasped. “But . . .”
“But what? Tell me.”
“I think I need more clitoral stimulation.”
Yes! Man, it was so awesome to have a woman actually tell him what she wanted. He lifted Alice off his lap.
“What’s happening?” Alice said.
Beau patted the cushion of the couch. “Lie down on your back.”
Alice complied, resting her head on a pillow. Her knees were drawn up, and the toes of her pretty little feet dug into his thigh. He twisted to face her, kicking his boots off and bringing one leg and foot up onto the couch. “Open your knees, sweetheart. Let me see. You can show me what you like.”
“Show you?”
“Yeah,” Beau said. “Touch yourself. I’ll watch.”
He’d said that casually. As if he said it all the time. Let me watch you get yourself off.
But he didn’t say that all the time. In fact, he’d never said it. Everyone thought he was so social and outgoing and had no filters, but in reality, he kept a lot to himself. Like most people with a secret, he was guarded, even if it didn’t show. All the time. As if he had a million secrets that might come out if he didn’t watch himself. But with Alice, it all fell away. And more and more, he found himself saying exactly what he thought when he was around her. If he didn’t work on reinstalling some filters, he was going to blow it all by telling her how he really felt about her. By telling her that this was more than fun times for him. That it was way more than living out a fantasy.
That this was everything.
“I’m feeling a bit shy,” Alice said.
This confession was so sweet that it made Beau’s heart flutter around in his chest like a da
mn butterfly. He did a double take to make sure she wasn’t joking, but of course she wasn’t. When Alice joked, you knew it. Sometimes, she even pointed it out.
“You don’t have to be shy,” he said. “Not with me.”
Alice bit her lip. “I know. And modesty is a social construct anyway.”
“Every part of you is beautiful, Allie. Inside and out.”
That was something people always said. But with Allie, it was true. Her outside checked all his boxes. From the big brown eyes to the full lips and curvy little figure . . . yep. Every box. But the other parts of her, the parts inside that made Alice Alice, that’s where the indescribable beauty was. Her heart. Her soul. Her amazing mind and intellect. He couldn’t see these things. But their beauty was real. Solid. Almost tangible.
“Beau?”
“What, darlin’?”
“I, erm . . . haven’t really . . .”
“Haven’t really what?”
Alice sighed. “I haven’t really . . . Well, it’s just that . . .”
Good Lord. He broke out in a light sweat. Alice wasn’t a virgin, was she?
“I haven’t really groomed to today’s ridiculous societal standards,” Alice said.
“Groomed?”
“My pubic area.”
Whew! He’d misunderstood. Allie wasn’t a virgin. “Darlin’, women are beautiful. Specifically, you are beautiful. And I want to see every gorgeous natural inch of you.”
He meant every word.
Alice smiled and seemed to relax. “In that case . . .”
She slowly opened her knees, and Beau found himself looking at a bit of heaven. And even though he wouldn’t have thought it, the crotchless panties were a huge turn-on. “Those panties,” he said. “They frame your pu—”
He caught himself. Alice probably preferred he use the proper verbiage.
“They frame your vagina”—the word caught in his throat a little, which was stupid—“very well.”
“Vulva,” Alice said.
It was hard, but Beau wrenched his eyes away from Alice’s vagina so he could try to figure out what she’d just said. “Pardon?”
“Vulva,” Alice said. “The vagina is the interior. It’s inside. The vulva is the outside and it is comprised of the labia—”