Her Cherry

by Bloom, Penelope

  “Oh come on. Who says it was my fault?”

  “My limited history with you says it was.”

  “I just borrowed one of the lifeboats last time I was at one of his parties.”

  She lowered her eyebrows and waited.

  “There was a huge line to get out and I had to use the bathroom. I figured it’d be faster. It’s not like I was going to strap the thing to my car and take it home. I left it where he could find it.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment.”

  “Sounded like one.”

  "Maybe you damaged your eardrums with all those q-tips, then."

  I smirked. “I never told you my stance on the q-tip controversy. Maybe I’m waxy and proud.”

  She was trying to be upset with me, I could tell, but her lips betrayed her amusement. “You don’t look waxy.”

  “How would you know from down there?”

  “Short jokes? Have we reached the middle school portion of this conversation?”

  “You never left the middle school portion of sexual experience, so I thought it was appropriate.”

  "Wow." She shook her head but grinned nonetheless. "Can you swim? Because if you can't, I'm definitely going to push you overboard the first chance I get."

  “Premeditated murder. I knew you had it in you.”

  “Something makes me think I’m not the first person to threaten your life. I’m probably not even the first person to threaten it today for that matter.”

  “Believe it or not, most people think I’m charming. Death threats aren’t exactly a daily occurrence for me.”

  “You must be giving me special treatment, then.”

  “Only the most special,” I agreed. “I’d even go as far as calling this a date.”

  “Isn’t that something we both need to agree on?”

  "Nope. I don't remember needing your permission to call this what it is. You're wearing a dress I bought for you, which you look ravishing in, by the way. We're at a schmoozy party on a yacht. Someone is playing the piano. And I'm hoping to get laid at the end of this whole thing. That's a date, whether you like it or not."

  She gave me a crooked smile, and her cheeks reddened. I thought she was about to say something seductive, but the mischief in her expression melted into a troubled look. "I've wanted to ask you… There was this woman. Zoey. She came up to me at the party and—”

  "Fed you a bunch of bullshit," I said. My blood boiled to think that Zoey had harassed Hailey. It was one thing for her to try her shit with me, and by extension, for my parents to try their shit with me. But Hailey? She was off-limits, and if they wanted to learn how quickly they could get their asses cut off, all they needed to do was get in between Hailey and me. "She was a mistake. Ex from hell. She's probably in the same ballpark as that Nathan asshole of yours."

  "Please," she said, holding up her palm. "He's not mine. Gah," she pantomimed gagging. "But Zoey made it sound like you had this huge list of ex-girlfriends like there was some scripted seduction procedure you ran everyone through. I tried to brush it off, but I guess I just wanted to bring it up because it has been stuck in my head ever since."

  "Well, it's bullshit. Mostly. Yes, I've been with other women, but to call them girlfriends…” I cleared my throat. I didn’t really want to scare her off and say they had just been fuck and forget kind of situations, but that was the truth of it. “Listen. I’ll admit it, I’ve done some shitty things, but I’m not a liar. I don’t make false promises, and I don’t string people along. Every woman I’ve ever been with knew exactly what I wanted and what to expect. Simple as that.”

  “I believe you,” she said, nodding slowly. “I actually do.”

  “Well shit. Don’t sound so surprised about it.”

  She laughed softly. “Can I be honest about something?”

  “Please.”

  “I’m running out of reasons to push you away.”

  I took a step closer to her. I wanted to touch her. To put my thumb against her cheek or pull her closer, but she had such an aura of fragility around her, like the slightest wrong touch could send her scampering off and out of my life for good. She had a toughness about her, and she could banter with me like a champ, but I was fairly sure there was a scared girl just behind the sarcasm and quick tongue. That was the part of her I had to be careful not to bruise, so I kept my hands at my side and smiled. “Hopefully that includes running out of reasons to push me overboard, as well, because I really do suck at swimming.”

  We made our way to the upper deck, where a posh little bar was positioned in front of the pool. Some token hot girls were floating and giggling in the pool, which wasn't surprising.

  “You didn’t tell me to bring a swimsuit,” she said.

  "Nobody actually swims at these things. The host has models come and pays them to walk around looking hot. Some of them always end up in the pool."

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  "I wish. Rich people run out of smart things to spend money on. Eventually, it just becomes a pissing contest. The dumber and more excessive it is, the richer you must be."

  “And what about you? What kind of rich person are you?”

  “Hm,” I walked over to the edge of the boat and leaned on the railing. The water looked glassy and calm, but inky in the moonlight. “I’m not going to pretend I’m better than all of these people. I do my share of stupid shit with my money.”

  She took the spot beside me. “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever spent your money on?”

  I laughed a little as I flicked through memories of my stupidity. "I had one of Bruce's cars towed while he was at work and replaced with an identical model, but I had a mechanic tweak a couple things I knew would drive him crazy. The wipers only went full speed. I threw an extra neutral gear onto the gear shift. I swapped the position of the fuel gauge and the odometer. Just little things."

  “Should I even ask why?”

  I grinned. “Bruce is my little brother, and I hated seeing how uptight he was getting. His ex fucked him over, and he was kind of spiraling out of control with all the OCD shit. I saw once that they treat phobias by forcing people to face their fears. If you’re afraid of snakes, they work you up to holding one, that kinda thing. So I thought maybe if I messed up his perfect little routine enough, he’d realize he didn’t need it.”

  “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

  “No, you want to see sweet? Come here.”

  I took her hand and led her along the deck. We eventually reached a section of the boat where dozens of lifeboats were tied to the side of the boat. There was a little door that opened up on the side of the yacht and allowed access to each of the boats.

  “Come on,” I said, motioning for Hailey to follow me as I stepped into the little inflatable raft with an onboard motor.

  “Didn’t you get in trouble for taking one of these last time?” She asked, still not taking a step toward the boat.

  “Sort of, but come feel it. It’s really cool in here.”

  She frowned but stepped into the boat. "It doesn't feel like anything spec—”

  I pushed the door closed and yanked on the release rope. The lifeboat dropped suddenly beneath us before the rope caught in a pulley attached to the yacht. I lowered us the rest of the way to the water by hand while Hailey stared wide-eyed at me.

  “What are you doing?” she asked once we were in the water. The sounds of the party were muffled and distant now, replaced by the soft lapping water against our little raft.

  “Borrowing a lifeboat.”

  She bulged her eyes and waited like she expected more of an explanation.

  “Because it’s fun?” I tried.

  “Becoming a criminal isn’t fun. What if we get caught? How are we supposed to get back up there?”

  “Easy there, Nancy Grace. We’re not supposed to get back up on the boat. The whole point of a lifeboat is to get away from the boat. I s
wear, the things I have to explain to you sometimes.”

  She glared. “I think the point is also that you use them when you need to get off the boat.”

  “And we did. I saw Bruce and Natasha show up. He would’ve blown a gasket if he saw us here. I was just trying to save the mood.”

  "By forcing me to be an accomplice in your criminal activity?"

  I faked a snoring noise. “When the FBI comes for us, I’ll cover for you. Happy?”

  She crossed her arms. “No, because I don’t get you. You’ve got the world at your fingertips, but you still do stuff like this. It doesn’t make sense.”

  I motioned to the water around us and to the sky, which was admittedly not full of stars because New York City blotted out just about everything but the sun and the moon with all its lights. “I don’t know. I think this is pretty nice.”

  She tugged on her arm, looking around. “I’m not just talking about the lifeboat. I’m talking about whatever you’re doing with me. Your life is full of these supermodel girls and glitz and glamor. Is it crazy for me to wonder what you could actually want with a boring baker like me?”

  “Not crazy, no,” I said, starting up the motor and driving us away from the yacht. I saw a few curious heads pop up on the railing a couple dozen feet above and point out at us. “But,” I said, having to raise my voice a little to be heard over the motor. “If you knew these people like I did, you’d know exactly why I’m so into you.”

  She paused a few moments before responding. “See, when you say things like that, is it real? Or is it part of your… thing.”

  I eased off the motor a little and let us drift. We were along the shore with a great view of the city. “My thing?”

  “It seems like you don’t take anything seriously. So I can’t tell if you mean what you say to me or if it’s just part of the game to you.”

  “That’s not true. I take you seriously. You bet your ass I do.”

  She bit her lip. She looked gorgeous. She wasn’t the picture-perfect model. She had big eyes that were maybe farther apart than the golden-ratio would say was ideal, and her front teeth were a little lower than the rest of her teeth, but I liked the way it looked. What she didn’t realize was how much there was to appreciate in her little flaws and imperfections. Life wasn’t about perfect. It was about finding your own place and your own way. I didn’t want a woman who was everybody’s ideal. I wanted a woman who was my ideal, and I’d found her.

  “You know what else I take seriously?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Blue balls.”

  She burst out laughing, then frowned in confusion. “I’m sorry, am I supposed to know what you’re talking about.”

  I sighed. “Such an innocent soul. Blue balls. The thing that happens when you think you’re going to get some and you don’t? It’s a painful condition.”

  She swallowed. “I’m sorry. About… your balls.”

  “Actions speak louder than words, you know.”

  She smiled down at her hands. “I’m worried I’ll embarrass myself with you. I’ve never really done much of anything with a guy.”

  “Oh. Well it’s not much different than doing it with a girl.”

  She slapped my arm, still smiling. “You know what I meant.”

  “I do. But you don’t have to worry. Just follow my lead. Just keep being you, and there’s no way you can disappoint me.”

  9

  Hailey

  I thought my breastbone might crack in half if my heart beat any faster. On the one hand, I was sitting in a stolen lifeboat, wearing a fancy party dress that came down to my ankles, and I was about as alone as you could get with anybody in New York City. The skyline was lit up behind him, casting a shimmering reflection on the water. It was quiet and perfect, if I could ignore the awkward squelching of rubber under our bodies every time we moved.

  I’d done my due diligence in holding off, sort of. I tried to fight my feelings for William, if only to be sure he wasn’t trying to use me and toss me aside. Granted, it had been the kind of fight you have when you’re deep in dreams, where it feels like every time you try to run your legs are submerged in water. Resisting William had been about as effective as resisting the urge to flip the channel when those sad pet donation commercials came on and “In The Arms of an Angel” played in the background--I wasn’t trying to cry in between rounds of Wheel of Fortune, thank you very much.

  We were alone, and I was out of excuses. I was out of reasons to say no, and once I looked past my crippling self-consciousness, I knew I wanted this.

  I gave the slightest nod of my head to William, who was waiting patiently, watching me with those blazing eyes of his. He looked good in a tux, but then again, he looked good in everything. When I nodded, he came toward me. The boat was a little wobbly, so he had to do it on his knees, but I wasn’t about to complain. The image of him planting a hand beside my hips and advancing on his hands and knees toward me was something I would never forget in this lifetime.

  He brought his lips to mine, pausing just before we made contact. I breathed in the divine way he smelled. Expensive and manly, just like always. My skin prickled from head to toe while heat bloomed in my stomach and started inching its way down.

  “Usually,” he said, moving his lips to my ear, where they were so close they brushed my skin as he spoke. “People start with kissing. If it’s just a hookup, sometimes they don’t even kiss on the mouth,” he said breathily as he planted a heart-stoppingly warm and soft kiss just below my ear. “But if it’s serious, then you have to go for the lips.”

  He brought his face back up so we were eye to eye and then closed his, leaning in and kissing me for the first time.

  I’d kissed boys before, but I froze like it was my first time. I didn’t even remember to close my eyes for several seconds. I just sat there, eyes still half-open, mouth unmoving, and hands planted behind me on the soft rubber of the raft. I felt the world close in around me until it seemed like we were in our own, private little bubble. My ears even seemed to close up, like my body was shutting off every non-essential system and focusing all the energy on just my lips.

  I finally closed my eyes and kissed him back. His lips were soft and playful. He’d kiss me slowly, then pull my bottom lip between his and let it trail away with a quiet little pop. He’d nip at me with his teeth or tease my tongue with his. It wasn’t just the mindless, horny kissing of two teenagers in a dark movie theater. It was an exploration. It was intimate. It was a display of personalities on a level I’d never experienced before.

  “The kissing,” he said, pulling back just long enough to get the words out before stealing a few more kisses. “Leads to some touching. If the guy goes for the boobs right away, he’s definitely planning on going all the way.”

  His hand slid up my side and cupped my breast. I gasped against his lips. Heat spread from everywhere he touched, electrifying my skin and my mind. My cheeks were flushed so hot, I wondered if he could feel the warmth radiating from my face against his.

  He massaged my breast while he kissed me, and I didn’t think I’d ever felt sexier. Every movement of his hands on my body telegraphed his desire for me. I could feel how much he was savoring the experience, and second by second, he was obliterating my self-consciousness.

  “Most guys,” he said, breaking away from the kiss again. “They’ll want you to start touching them around this point. Otherwise, they might worry you’re not into it.”

  “I’m into it,” I breathed.

  He laughed softly, resting his forehead against mine. “Prove it.”

  He took my wrist and pulled it around his back, planting my hand directly on his ass. I sucked in a surprised breath and gulped. I couldn’t call myself an expert, but I knew divinity when I felt it. His ass was the ass that all asses aspired to be. It was the Ferrari to most men’s Corolla. My hand involuntarily squeezed, and the warmth I’d been feeling swirling through my body burst into something more like a wildfire. Li
ke a switch had flipped, I needed more. I craved more. I brought my other hand up to grip him with everything I had, forgetting I was holding myself upright. I flopped to my back, yanking him down on top of me by the ass as I did, because I wasn’t about to let go of my glorious prize.

  He sank down on top of me smoothly, not even interrupting his kisses. “Very good, Cherry. You’re a natural.”

  “I think I can figure it out from here,” I breathed.

  He made a grunting sound that told me I had said the right thing. His hand slid down from my breast to my thigh. I reluctantly let go of his ass to start fumbling with his belt. He saw how much trouble I was having and flipped the buckle open, then stripped the belt away. I immediately went to work on his button and zipper while he slid the shoulder straps of my dress down.

  I couldn’t catch my breath, and my hands were shaking like I was going into hypothermic shock, even though the night was pleasantly warm.

  He took my hand in his and put it up to his mouth, kissing my fingertips. He flashed a gorgeous smile at me. “Does it make you feel better to know I’m nervous, too?”

  “Liar,” I said, and even my voice sounded shaky.

  “I told you before, I’m a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

  I frowned up at him. “Why would you be nervous?”

  “I’ve never cared about what was going to happen after I slept with someone. This time, I care.”

  I licked my lips. “Well, even if you’re saying that just to help me relax, it worked. So thank you.”

  He kissed my fingertips again. “Sorry if dragging you out here was a bit much,” he said, nodding to the water surrounding us. “I wanted your first time to be memorable.”

  “You were so sure I was going to give it up to you once we got out here?” I asked.

  William nodded. “I told you at the masquerade party, I already had you figured out.”

  “And you only told me the bad parts.”

  “Well, tonight is about the good parts. Your fingers,” he said, kissing them. “Your slender little wrists,” he said, kissing his way down as he spoke. “Your kind heart,” he said.