“What’s he like? Have you met him?”
A smile spreads across my lips as I think about the barrage of energy and information Riley is. “He’s great–smart, funny–very much his mother’s son.”
She lets out a sigh. “I just admire her so much,” she muses.
Nodding, I change the subject. “And how about you? How’s that new roommate of yours? Coral isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Coral. She’s good. I think she misses London. But, she’s over here for a few months to see how things go with her boyfriend, Shane.”
“And what’s he like?”
She shrugs. “He’s nice enough. He’s just your typical Aussie bloke; he’s into surfing and eating more than anything. You’d probably like him.”
I laugh, as I return to my cutting. “I’ll have to stop by.”
“Well, you can come at any time. He practically lives there. He’s in a share house with three other guys, so they’re always at my place.”
Raising my brow, I look up at her. “Feeling a bit crowded?”
“Meh,” she shrugs. “I’m just used to living on my own. But it’s OK. She’s only here for three months.”
“You never know, it could be forever if they get married.”
“Don’t say that,” she laughs. “I need my space and my life back at some point.”
Chapter 26
Dakota
I stand in front of the mirror as the bathtub fills, naked, except for the towel around my body that I’m clutching to my chest. For a moment, I close my eyes, my nerves flitting through my chest like a frightened butterfly. I remind myself that I’m alone. It’s Thursday. It’s my rostered day off. My parents are at work, and Riley is at school. On top of that, every door in the house is locked tight. No one is going to walk in on me.
Why is this so hard?
Releasing my breath, I open my eyes, willing my hand to open and drop my towel. This sounds crazy, but I Googled how to do this, and I found this whole website about empowering yourself with self-love. And there was actually a video where a woman explained how to create the right atmosphere so that you feel safe and able to relax. Then she gave tips on how to go about the experience.
Maybe I’m making this a little too technical. But I’m twenty-three, and the only time I’ve had an orgasm was that time with Brad…and maybe a couple of times in my dreams. And I just feel the need to have some sort of guide to follow, so I don’t get frustrated and feel as though I’m doing it all wrong.
Inhaling deeply, I let my eyes scan over my body, trying to keep my critical voice at bay. Normally, I’d look at myself, and I’d see the unevenness of my full breasts, and the stretchmarks that cover my sides. I’d see the extra flesh about my middle, and the C-section scar along my abdomen, and I’d sigh, knowing that my body will never be what it was.
But this time, I’m trying to look at myself with the eyes of a lover. I’m trying to see the softness in my curves as a good thing. I’m trying to see myself as having a body that’s desirable.
Reaching out, I switch off the bath then hit play on my iPod in the dock. As the music starts, I slide into the warm bath, concentrating on the sensation of the water as it surrounds my body.
The thrumming heartbeat of Jeff Buckley’s ‘Everybody Here Wants You’, flows out of the speakers, and I close my eyes and breathe, letting the beat roll through my chest, as I let his ethereal voice convince me that I’m wanted. Immediately, the image of Brad’s face, his eyes filled with desire, presents itself in my mind, and my breathing quickens because I know he wants me. I know he desires me, just as I do him.
Pretending it’s his hands on my body, I slide my hand over my stomach then up to brush beneath my breast. My heart rate quickens along with my breathing, and I try to do what the video said and relax as I move my hand up to cup my breast and squeeze. It feels nice, and I can feel a heat begin to bloom deep within my belly. My nipples peak and I roll one between my fingers, slowly releasing my breath as I feel the tingle of arousal between my legs.
This is the part that makes me most nervous; so I keep my mind focused on the music, and continue to imagine Brad then slowly reach downward.
I can do this. This feels good.
My hand slides through my curls then down between my thighs. Even in the water I can feel the slickness of my arousal, and I begin to tremble in a good way as I run my finger down to my opening then back up to the hard little bump that seems to be containing most of the throbbing.
I’m beginning to get into it, this coil of heat building inside me, as I gently explore my intimate area then the track changes and Damien Rice begins to sing a song called Uncomfortable with Melanie Laurent.
I open my eyes and stop what I’m doing, letting out a groan because even my playlist finds what I’m doing odd and it’s shuffled in order to tell me. And it’s right, this is just uncomfortable. I feel stupid.
Letting out a sigh, I pull the plug out of the bathtub and get out, wrapping my towel back around me as I reach out and hit stop on my iPod. Then I look in the mirror and see how flushed the arousal has made my face–it looks kind of beautiful.
As I absorb my flushed state, I hear my phone going off outside the bathroom and rush to answer it in case it’s Riley’s school. It isn’t. It’s Brad. So much better.
“Hey,” I say with a smile, wondering if he somehow sensed I was thinking about him the way I was.
“Hey, gorgeous, I was just thinking about you.”
“Me too,” I smile, feeling the heat of a blush creep up my cheek as I think about him seeing me in my current state.
“Good thoughts I hope.”
“Very,” I reply. Then I make a decision before I have the chance to over think it. “Are you working right now?”
“Not yet. I start at five.”
“Well, do you… um… would you like to come over? I’m free until three.”
“Sure. You want to get some lunch or something?”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, willing myself to have the same level of courage I once had with him. “I don’t want food. I just want you,” I practically whisper, and even I can hear the invitation in my voice.
There’s a pause, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s going to say no. Then I hear him clear his throat. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
***
Brad
I pace back and forth in front of her door several times before I raise my hand to knock. I’m wondering whether she’s really calling me here for what it sounded like she was calling me here for, or if I’m completely mistaken. I feel like I should tell her to slow down, that going from kissing to…to this might be too fast this time around. But I don’t want her to feel like I’m rejecting her when all I want to do is protect her.
But just as I’m about to rap my knuckles against the pine door, she opens it for me, wearing one of her pretty sundresses. Her cheeks are flushed. Her long hair is loose. I swallow hard.
“What are you doing?” she asks with an amused smile on her face.
“Pacing?” I answer, although with the tone of it, it comes out as more of a question.
“How about you pace inside?”
She steps back to let me in, and I hesitate a little, wondering if this is a good idea. She looks like she’s about to pounce, and as much as I want her, I don’t want her to regret this.
Reaching out, she takes a hold of my hand and pulls me inside, and immediately, she’s on me. She kisses me with a ferocity that makes my head spin, and all of my senses come alive at once as I respond to her insistent kisses and frantic touches. She reaches down and pulls at the base of my shirt, urging me to take it off, and I do. Just as we make it into her room, she pushes me so I fall backwards on her bed. It’s a bit of a shock, and it takes me a second to catch my breath. Then she stands before me and reaches down to lift her dress.
“Stop,” I say suddenly, and it’s the hardest thing I think I’ve ever done. She’s called me here, and she obvi
ously feels she can do this. But something inside me is telling me that going this fast will be a mistake.
The expression on her face drops as she releases her dress and steps back. “You don’t want this?” She looks crushed, and I scramble from the bed, and bring her into my arms. She fights me. “Don’t!” she yells.
“Shhh, calm down. I do want this. I do,” I assure her, letting her go but moving to cup her face in my hands. She closes her eyes so she can’t see me, and I run my fingers through her hair. “So much.”
She opens her anguish filled eyes. “Then why did you stop?”
I slide a hand back down and around her waist and continue to run my fingers through her hair then gently along her jawline as I speak to her. “Because I don’t want you to regret jumping into this. I’m not going anywhere. We can take our time. It doesn’t have to be this frenzy. There’s no pressure from me. We can wait.”
“But I’m ready now. Why does everyone keep telling me to be careful? I know what happened to me. There is no way I can forget. But you promised we could go at my pace, and my pace is that I want you now.”
I smile and rest my forehead against hers. “You don’t know how much I want to take you up on that.”
“Then do it,” she whispers, sliding her hand over my chest and looking up at me with those eyes. God. They make my chest ache. “I want the last person I was with to be you. You’re the only one who’s ever made love to me and I want that back.”
Her words hit me in a way that makes emotion prick behind my eyes, and I move, pressing my lips against her forehead. My mind racing, I want to fix this for her. I want to give her everything she wants. But, everything inside me is telling me to slow this down.
“How about we take it one step at a time? We can draw this out–enjoy ourselves. So when the time does come for us to go all the way, you’re going to be so ready for me that you can’t think or even dream about anything else.”
She looks up at me with watery eyes and nods. And a sense of relief floods my body, knowing I made the right call. Never in my life have I wanted someone more than I want her now. And never in my life have I understood the importance of holding back.
“OK,” I smile, brushing my fingers along her jaw then down along her slender neck. I move across her shoulder where I slide my finger just beneath the spaghetti strap of her dress. I lean down and kiss her shoulder, then the curve of her neck. “I want to love you in every way possible. Don’t ever think I don’t want that. And I have a long list that I’ve built up over the years. So let me start with the simplest thing, and we’ll slowly work through all of them, and you can tell me everything you like so we can do it all over again.”
“I like the sound of that,” she gasps. Then I pull her tight against me and kiss her slowly and passionately before lowering her to the bed and climbing on beside her.
“I want to start with simple touching,” I say, running my fingers from her cheekbones, down along her neck then over her shoulder and along her bare arm. Her alabaster skin is so soft beneath my touch, and I feel goose bumps rise as I continue along her forearm then down to her fingers. I lift her hand and press my lips to her fingertips, before I press a kiss to the pulse point at her wrist then again in the crook of her elbow. I kiss her again on her neck beneath her jaw, as my hand moves to her waist, and I whisper in her ear. “Sometimes, keeping your clothes on can be just as fun as taking them off.”
Her breathing increases as I slide my hand up her ribs to just below her breast.
“You can tell me to stop whenever you want, OK? I promise I’ll listen,” I remind her when she sucks in her breath and tenses slightly.
She turns her head so she’s facing me. “I want you to touch me everywhere,” she whispers. “I want you to make my body shake like you did our first time.”
And I smile, loving her candid nature, loving her. “I can do that for you,” I murmur, kissing her gently. She rolls so she’s against me and wraps her arms around me. As I move my hands over her body, her cotton dress shifts beneath my palms. I follow the curve of her spine, all the way down to her thigh where the fabric ends, and her soft skin begins. She bends her knee, sliding it over my leg, entwining our limbs as my hand slides back up her thigh. Her dress has slid up higher, and the first piece of fabric I hit is the satin feel of her panties. An uncontrollable groan rumbles through my chest, and it causes her to press a little closer, her other thigh rubbing up against the hardness between my legs. I groan again, my fingers moving high enough to grip the flesh of her arse cheek.
I move my hand higher, our mouths still connected, working together sensuously as my hand slides over her dress toward her breast. I cup her soft mound, rolling my palm over the hardened peak of her nipple as it pushes up through the thin fabric.
“Oh,” she moans into my mouth, causing a surge of desire to flood through me. She rolls over to her back, leaving her knee bent, and her legs slightly parted as she urges me to roll with her, her hands roaming over my body, while mine continue to explore hers.
I love her curves. I love the feel of her as I slide my hand from her neck, down to her breast then down over her rib cage. I run my fingertips over the dip at her waist, the rise at her hips, and the curve of her behind. Then I continue to explore–to touch, right down to the smooth skin of her thighs. My fingertips are on fire as my body heats with the passion I feel having her so close.
She lets out tiny moans and moves her hips in this way that is begging me to touch her. And I want to; I desperately want to bring her to the heights of pleasure. But right now, I’m more nervous than I was during my first time. I don’t want to do anything that’s too much for her.
Moving my hand up to her bent knee, I lightly run my fingertips down the inside of her thigh, my kiss lingering on her lips as I do. Then I pull back, watching her reaction as I trace the line of her panties then brush my fingers lightly between her legs. She keeps her eyes on mine, her lips parted as my touch becomes firmer.
With desire in her eyes, she looks up at me, as I slowly move my fingers back and forth, massaging her between her legs. I can feel her wetness through her panties as she rocks her hips against my hand, and I increase the pressure again, feeling her hard nub beneath my fingers.
I groan, feeling so turned on as I watch her expression changing as she begins to get lost on her way toward climax. I can see her try to keep focus, but she struggles to maintain eye contact when it hits her. It’s beautiful to watch as her hips rise and press against my hand and her mouth falls open, releasing a low moan as her body trembles beneath me, her hands digging into my arm and my chest, as she gets lost in the moment. When I feel the pulsing beneath my hand lessen, I slow my hand before keeping it completely still, but leaving it where it is.
Focus returns to her eyes, and she gasps before moving a hand to the back of my head, where she grips my hair and pulls my mouth against hers, kissing me like her life depends on it. When we come up for air, I’m smiling. “Feeling better?” I ask, as she looks up at me with a satisfied grin on her face.
She nods. “Much,” she says with a laugh, looking flushed and beautiful as I lie on the bed beside her.
“Good,” I say, leaning over to press a soft kiss against her lips before I pull her against me so she lies on my chest.
I run my hand up and down her back, and she brushes her fingers back and forth over the smattering of hair across my pecs.
“Would you, um… would you like me to do something for you?” she asks, moving so she can see my face. I lift my head, watching her as she nods her head a touch to indicate the strain in the crotch area of my jeans.
“It’ll go down,” I assure her, hugging her against me. She settles in against my chest, her ear over my heart, and slowly, her breathing evens out. I press a kiss to the top of her head as she sleeps in my arms. While I lie wide awake, I’m willing my throbbing cock to behave and go back down, so I can keep being the gentlemen I want to be for her. But it’s hard when everything you�
��ve ever wanted is curled up in your arms. Except she’s not the girl you knew before. Now she’s broken, and it’s going to take time to make her whole again, and I want to make her whole. I never want her to feel afraid again.
Chapter 27
Brad
Her scent is on my hand as I drive home from her place. It’s equal parts torture and pleasure, because it’s all I can smell. My pants are feeling way too tight. I swear my cock remembers her like a dog does its master. It’s like I’ve taken Viagra or something, and it won’t go down–even after I get home and take a cold shower.
“You’re being ridiculous,” I say to it. I’m talking to my penis like a crazy person, as the shower spray needles against my skin. Even washing away her smell and turning my body cold won’t make it quit. It just stands there proudly, mocking me. It annoys me that I have such a lack of control. But, I can’t go to work like this.
Admitting defeat, I turn the heat on then grip my shaft as I lean my arm against the wall. Then I picture her face as I slide my fist back and forth. It doesn’t take much. I’m so worked up from today’s activities with Dakota that I find my release with a sudden shudder, as the pressure leaves my body. I release my cock, my chest heaving as I calm down. And slowly, my erection begins to soften.
“Thank god,” I grumble, looking down at the one part of my body that isn’t in agreement with the rest of me. “Now stay down,” I tell it. Then I get myself ready for work.
***
Dakota
“I hope you’re calling to tell me you finally touched your feminine flower,” Stacey deadpans, when she answers the phone later that night. “I’m just about to watch Arrow, and unless this is going to be a good phone call, I don’t want to miss out on watching Stephen Amell kick some arse.”
A Beautiful Taste Page 11