When we broke apart, I watched her. She seemed more relaxed. I drew my nose down her body until I got to the place between her legs, and I nuzzled it. I held out my tongue and took a tentative lick, and oh, god, yes, we needed to do this now.
She arched off the bed so hard, I wondered if I did something wrong. I glanced up at her in confusion, but her look was pure heat and lust.
I kept going.
I followed the book’s instructions as best as I could remember, taking my time and letting her arousal build. After a while, I got brave and stroked her with a finger, then I slid it in.
“What did you put inside me?” she murmured.
“Just my finger.” I was tempted to ask if she was okay, but I could listen to her instructions and trust her back. She’d tell me if she wanted me to stop.
In fact, she said the opposite. “That feels incredible. Oh my god, I love that.”
“You feel incredible,” I said. Because I loved her. But instead of saying it, I went back to licking her.
I could feel her squirming, and I wasn’t sure if it was because she liked it or not, so I looked up and checked.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she moaned.
Okay, back to work.
The most pleasurable type of work there was.
I could say two things.
First, the book was awesome. Between the clues I knew to look for and reading Audrey’s body, I could tell when she was about to come.
Second, when she came, her body became transfixed by some light, something in the future she couldn’t see, could only feel. And it was so heavenly, I knew I wanted to see it over and over again.
So I did. Until she pushed me away and told me to stop. Just like the book said.
After she caught her breath, she smiled. “Are you going to, uh, fuck me now?”
I stilled. “No, baby girl. Not today.”
“Can I go down on you?”
“I don’t think I’ll last that long,” I admitted. “Why don’t we just do, uh, a little hand work. Okay?”
She nodded and bit her lip, and I guessed this was the first time she was seeing a hard dick.
Shimmying my shorts and boxer briefs off, I lay back on my bed, letting her look at me. She ran her hands all over my body as I lazily stroked myself.
“Can I try?” she asked.
I nodded. “Hold it here,” I said, showing her where I liked it.
And her small hand holding my big dick would officially be material to beat off to for the rest of my life.
When I came a few minutes later, with the accompanying mess, she looked almost as satisfied as me. “That was so hot,” she whispered.
After cleaning up, I came back and cuddled with her until it was about time for everyone to come back.
Then she went home.
Bert was right, not that I’d ever tell him. Going down on my girlfriend was definitely the best first sexual experience.
I couldn’t wait to do it again.
Eleven
Train Going Nowhere
Audrey
“Can you recommend something from the wine list?”
While the Napa Valley Wine Train rattled down the rails at only a leisurely four miles per hour, I still lurched toward the table I was serving, but I kept the fake, bright smile on my face as if I were just fine.
I’d pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail and wore a uniform of a crisp white shirt and black pants. I liked feeling polished, so that was on the plus side. Another boon to the job was the table crumber—the bent metal tool I kept in my pocket to scoop breadcrumbs off the table. Maybe I was weird, but I’d always liked those things.
“Let me have the sommelier come and discuss our selections with you. Anything else right now?”
They shook their heads, and I left with my head held high, trying to maintain my balance.
Carly laughed as I scooted past her in the aisle and whispered in my ear. “This would be a lot easier for you if you liked wine, you know.”
I rolled my eyes.
My lack of wine knowledge probably hurt my tips, but I had a captive audience so I didn’t do too badly.
At least not during these first weeks on the job. Weeks of evenings I’d spent setting up for the dinner service, serving it on a moving set of vintage train cars, then returning home and passing out from being tired.
Also, it had been weeks of sneaking kisses with my boyfriend. Of touching his body as much as I could. Of whispered promises against each other’s skin. Of pushing whatever contact I could, because he left for Columbia in just a few short weeks.
But we’d had to sneak around. Except for the one lucky time no one was at Tate’s house, we’d spent most of our touching in the front seat of the Mobile Living Room. Otherwise, we’d kept our hands to ourselves, talking as we usually did. Only we had an undercurrent of sex that was now brought to the surface. Actually, upon reflection, I think it’d always been there.
Tate texted me earlier today that his family was going out tomorrow night to some event and did I want to come over?
Hell yes, I wanted to come over. I didn’t have to work tomorrow night, and apparently neither did he.
I arrived at the sommelier’s station where Allen Chen had his twinky ass to me, checking the bottle inventory. “Table six needs you.”
He turned around and gave me a flirty wink that didn’t mean anything. Allen was more likely to hit on Tate. “I got ya, honey. I’ll go see what they’d like.” He sashayed down the moving train to help the diners pick a wine.
Continuing to the kitchen train, I put in the orders for table four and returned to the water station to get the pitchers. As I juggled the full water containers against the sway of the train, I did my best to not spill. When Wren mentioned this job, I hadn’t fully realized the implications of serving fancy food and drinks on a moving train. The only thing worse than this would be to serve milkshakes while on roller skates. But I did my best.
The Napa Valley Wine Train was world-renowned for its incredibly elegant dining. The silverware was real silver, polished and precise. The dinner screamed “chef-fy.” And the view—
Well, it was home.
Here’s a secret. Don’t go on a scenic wine train excursion at night in winter. Because there’s no view in the dark. You’re welcome.
But on a lovely July evening like tonight, the late sun shone on the green rows of vines and bright mustard growing in between the rows. The vintage cars trundled down the tracks along the different viticulture districts. Rutherford. Yountville. And so on.
The beauty didn’t change the fact that the only train I got to ride on went nowhere.
Carly sidled up to me once I returned the pitcher to its place and checked on the rolls. “Going out with Tate tonight?”
“No, he has to work. But we’re getting together this weekend.”
Tomorrow night, I told myself. Tomorrow night, Tate and I would finally do it.
I texted him.
Audrey: There’s so much I want to do to you. You have no idea. I have a list
Tate: Is it an Anti-Bucket List?
Audrey: Even better. A secret list
And I hummed the rest of my shift.
When I saw him the following evening, I attacked. In so many words.
Once I confirmed we were alone, I shut the door behind us and fused my mouth to his.
Then I climbed him like a tree. Like he was the Empire State Building and I was King Kong.
At first, he gave back as good as I gave and more, but then I got frantic. Because if this was the only time I had with him, I was going to make the most of it. We had to move. We couldn’t stay still.
He pulled back, giving me a blue-eyed smirk. “Whoa. Slow down. We have all the time in the world. I’m not going anywhere, baby. I just want to be with you.”
But I wasn’t listening. I was kissing. I slid down his body and started pulling his shirt up and then tugging at the fly of his pants as we shuffled to his bedroom.
“I don’t have all the time in the world. I don’t want to wait.”
“Patience.”
“No,” I said. “Im-patience.”
“Audrey, I want you so much, but I want to know every inch of your body, and I don’t want to skip any steps.”
What I wanted to say was, “But I want you nowww.”
Instead, I looked at the ground, keeping a sigh from escaping. I wasn’t being very adult. And if I was having sex, I needed to be an adult.
His eyes sought out mine. “What’s this about, Audrey? Because I’m as horny—or probably hornier—than you are, but I want this to be special.” He smiled, a glorious full smile. “Because it’s you. I want it to be special with you. I don’t want to go fast and get it over with. And I’m not sure I’m ready.”
He didn’t say, “I’m not sure you’re ready either,” but I heard it in his tone.
I sighed for real. He was right.
Worse, my plan wasn’t fair to him in the slightest.
I still hadn’t told him I wasn’t going to New York. Every time I wanted to bring it up, it didn’t feel like the right moment. But the longer I waited, the more difficult it became to bring it up.
Because I was falling for him. Or in truth, I’d fallen a long time ago.
And the physical distance we’d have would be painful. I didn’t know if it would be more painful to ask for long-distance or if it would be better to just break it off.
And I didn’t want to ask.
For now, we ended up making out and feeling each other up. He kissed me, and it felt different than our last time in his bed. That time felt like we needed to break through some barrier just to say we passed it. Tonight, we didn’t have that pressure. We spent our time together exploring new territory. Instead of zipping past on an airplane overhead to get to another city, we traversed the terrain of each other.
And it was ultra sexy.
I memorized his torso, finding a little freckle on his left side, and learning he wasn’t as ticklish as I was. My lips traveled along the hollows of his neck and the sculpted parts of his collarbone.
In return, he put his mouth on every single part of me. Seriously. He kissed me behind my ear and along my neck down to my fingertips, then kissed my palm and all the way on up my inner arm. Then he repeated it on the other side, as if he too was mapping my body. Reverently.
“Yeah,” I said on a happy sigh. “This is better.”
“I have a present for you,” he said. And he pulled out a small gift bag.
I had no idea if he was giving me lingerie or a sex toy or something naughty, but it ended up being a couples’ massage oil that smelled divine.
From our make out session, our shirts were off. But we took everything else off.
He got on his belly, and I rubbed the oil between my hands, then straddled his back and used it on his naked shoulders, all the way down to his perky ass. As I massaged every part of his back, he moaned in pleasure. And I kissed as much of him as I could reach.
He returned the favor. Low lights. Quiet music. And his broad hands all over my back. Seeing me, really seeing me.
We didn’t have sex, at least not anything penetrative. But he brought me to an orgasm, his intense eyes watching me, and then I watched him do it to himself per my request.
I thought that it didn’t matter if I landed in Merlot or New York or Stockholm or Kiev. If I had Tate in my life, it was enough.
Twelve
Boring Party with Decent Catering
Tate
I hoisted the tray of goat cheese canapés and wended my way through the crowd. It was a pretty party—a fiftieth birthday celebration—but it didn’t matter who attended this shindig because I was on the clock and not here to socialize. In the summer evening at the edge of a vineyard, a Beatles cover band played near a white tent. Strings of large white lights draped over the outdoor dance floor, and white roses sat on tables covered in white tablecloths.
I yawned.
At least they’d hired a decent caterer, but the decor was as blandly pretty as it could be.
Or maybe it just lacked the spark of a certain redhead.
I had a job to do. With a smile, I offered the hors d’oeuvres to guests in gauzy dresses and pastel polo shirts.
Until my smile fell when I ran into a familiar face. Jade Lopez stood before me, wearing a dark blue linen dress and high heels.
“Hey,” I said, not wanting to be rude. I set down the tray of hors d’oeuvres on a nearby table and brushed off my hands. Somehow I’d ended up at the edge of the party. I glanced around for an exit, but to escape her, I’d have to push through the crowd and make a scene. I sighed, cornered. “What are you doing here?”
She took a step toward me. I had to keep myself from taking a matching step back. “It’s my mom’s birthday,” she cooed. “I’m glad you could come.”
“Ah. I’m, uh, just here to work for my mom. I’m not a guest.”
“I know. We talked about it at Barnes and Noble.”
“Ah, that’s right.” I’d totally forgotten.
“You’d know that if you answered my texts,” she said.
“About that—”
“Still, you’re here. And that’s all that matters.” She took another step toward me, and I wished I hadn’t set down the tray. I needed a buffer.
“I need to—”
“Tate. Why don’t you see if you can stay after the party. We have a guest house. It’s very private. We can, you know. Hang out.” And the way she said it left no doubt as to what she meant.
I stared at her. “No. After this I have to go—”
Before I could do anything, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
It felt all wrong. Wrong girl, wrong lips, wrong place. Just no.
I stood there in shock before I recovered, unhooked her arms that encircled my neck, and stepped back. “Jade, look. You have to leave me alone. I’m not interested in dating you. Audrey and I are together.”
A wicked look came over her face. “For now. When you go to Columbia, you won’t be seeing her. I’ll be close at Penn. I can come visit.”
“No, she’s coming with me to New York. I’ll be spending most of my time with her.”
She gave me the evilest grin I’d ever seen outside of a Disney villain. “Oh, Tate. Audrey isn’t going to New York.”
A sinking feeling in my gut outpaced the sudden headache I was getting. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“She’s staying in Merlot to take care of her mom.” Jade’s face said innocent, but I knew she was anything but. And I was trying to figure out how I could wipe off her kiss discreetly.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “How do you know about that?”
“I see Audrey every week when she takes her mom for her appointments, and she told me all about her plans. I don’t know why she didn’t tell you.” Again, the faux innocence. I just needed to throttle her.
But her words made me pause.
I knew Mrs. Staunton had been diagnosed with MS. Audrey had told me before, and she’d talked about going with her to doctor’s appointments.
But Audrey staying in Merlot?
Jade was still talking. “I didn’t know you had no idea. I thought she would have told you she wasn’t going to New York with you.”
Not going to New York? What the actual fuck?
God, Jade was such a conniving bitch.
But what if Jade was telling me the truth? Because if she’d seen Audrey’s mom, maybe she did know what she was talking about.
If Audrey wasn’t going to New York, I couldn’t … breathe.
“I have to go,” I blurted, not waiting to see Jade’s reaction, and took off with my tray the long way to the prep area. Once there, I set down my tray and found my mom.
“Do you have enough coverage tonight? Something’s up with Audrey and her mom. It’s important. Can I go?”
She nodded, surely seeing my wild-eyed expression. “Tate? What’s wrong?”
Why wouldn’t Audrey tell me?
“I don’t know, Mom. I need to find out if Audrey is alright.”
Did she not trust me?
“Yes, of course you can go. Let me know. I hope she’s okay.” She paused and wiped what was assuredly lipstick off the side of my mouth. “What happened?”
“Long story.”
“Then go.”
And I ran to my truck and raced to her house.
Audrey opened the door with a surprised expression. “Tate? What are you doing here? I thought you were working.”
“I left early,” I said. “I wanted to talk with you.”
She looked over her shoulder into the dining room where her parents were seated.
“We’re just sitting down for dinner,” Chief Staunton said. “Want to join us?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
Thirteen
Guess Who Comes to Dinner
Audrey
For the first time ever, Tate sat as the fourth person at our dining room table, helping himself to my dad’s cooking. He was so big he dominated his side, balancing out my dad.
It actually felt comfortable having him here, although his worried expression bothered me.
Thankfully, my dad had made tacos and not pork chops. I couldn’t survive Tate having to eat my dad’s pork chops. Especially given his mom’s profession.
“It’s nice to have you here, Tate,” my mom said.
“Thanks. I wasn’t planning on crashing your dinner, but it’s good timing. I’ve been working all evening and haven’t stopped for a break.”
I passed him the salsa. “How was the party?”
“It was fine.” He sipped his water. “Actually, it was Dr. Lopez’s birthday party.”
My stomach sank. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” His voice went husky, and he passed me the taco meat. “I talked with Jade.”
Boy on a Train: The All American Boy Series Page 10