I Made You My First

by Threadgoode, Ciara

  I laughed. My mind wandered while I sat quietly, drinking my coffee. I thought about everything that had happened yesterday, but kept going back to the fountain with Irish. I’d almost begged him to take me right then and there and he’d turned me down. Either I wasn’t good at throwing myself at a man or he wasn’t a good player. I replayed again what he’d said to me, “I want it to be special; something we look back on as one of the best days of our lives.”

  Of all the things he’d said, this was the one thing I kept hearing. I wished I’d asked him what he meant. Before meeting Irish at the airport last Friday, I hadn’t known he even existed, yet last night it almost seemed as if he were waiting to consummate our two-year relationship the right way. Could a person really care about or love someone he didn’t even know two years ago? Is that what Irish had been doing? Maybe those talks about me with my brother were really more detailed than Irish had admitted. If he’d been having these feelings for me since my parents’ funeral, why had he waited until this trip to reveal them to me? I’d been to San Diego many times before. What made him wait until now? What had been different?

  Just then my phone beeped, breaking my concentration. My phone is in my jacket, I thought. I jumped up to find it. With phone and cigarettes in hand I went back to the patio. I opened my cell. Four missed messages. I’d need another cup of coffee first, I laughed to myself.

  First message: eight-thirty pm. This is your brother. Give me a call when you get this message. I hadn’t heard my phone go off last night. He must have called while I was at the fountain with Irish. Oh great.

  Second message: eleven-thirty pm. I miss you already.

  Third call: six-thirty in the morning. Jurnee, this is John. Please call me. I really need to talk to you about something.

  Fourth message: seven-fifteen in the morning. J.C., I just wanted to say good morning and let you know that I should be home at about three-thirty. Love you.

  John had called twice. That was unusual. I’d made several vacation trips without hearing a word from him. He knew when I was there because my aunt always called and told him. I’d asked her many times not to, but I knew she would. I wondered if John was calling about Auntie. I opened my phone and punched in his number.

  It only rang twice before I heard him answer, “Hello, this is John.” I felt relieved hearing his casual tone.

  “John, this is Jurnee. You called?” I’m not sure why, maybe habit, but I felt my face scrunch up waiting for him to answer.

  “Yeah, so when did you get in? Auntie called me last night and said that you were out here.” What a liar. He knew I was there, and he knew when I’d arrived. I bit my lip, thinking of what I should say to that. “Jurnee, are you there?”

  “Yep, I’m here,” I said. I took a deep breath. “What did you need, John? I was just getting ready to get in the shower,” I lied.

  A long pause and then he said, “Well yeah, hey I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner Saturday, for your birthday. My friend’s the head cook at George’s at the Cave so it’s pretty good food. Would you like to go?” I instantly felt my whole body cringe.

  He’d caught me off guard, but I remembered what Irish had said about a party. “Um, John, you know that my birthday’s not until next Tuesday, right?” I waited. I wanted him to work a little. I wished I could’ve seen him squirming.

  “Yeah, I know when your birthday is, Jurnee, but Auntie said you’d be leaving this Sunday. I wanted to take you out before you headed back to North Carolina.”

  I waited a few seconds before answering. I didn’t want to sound too excited. “Yeah, that’d be great John, thanks. What time?”

  He said, “Eight o’clock” way too quickly and then there was a change in his tone. “Hey, did you meet London’s baby brother at the airport?” I’m certain John knew that Irish and I are the same age, so he just couldn’t resist referring to him as London’s baby brother. He never let me down. If my brother was anything, he was consistent.

  “Yeah, I did meet him at the airport,” I said.

  “Well would you want me to invite him to dinner, too?”

  Now that was a very non-John thing to do, I thought, asking me if I wanted something. I was floored. “Sure,” I tried to say casually, “that’d be cool.”

  “Okay then, I’ll see you at eight Saturday night. Take care, Jurnee.” Click.

  I was glad that it hadn’t been bad news about my aunt, but now I had all week to worry myself about this so-called party. I’d pump Irish for more information. I didn’t want to walk into this party blind. I was sitting in the chair with the cell in my hand when out of the blue I remembered Irish telling me that John didn’t know he was going to meet me at the airport. Yes, Irish had said that. And John had just asked me if I’d met Irish at the airport. What the hell was going on?

  That shower I’d lied to John about sounded pretty good right then. Still dripping, I stood in front of the mirror brushing my hair straight down so that it framed my face. It’s getting long, I thought. I hadn’t cut it in a long while. Maybe I’d get Judy to trim it for me before I left. I put my wet hair up in a towel and slipped on my robe.

  One cup of coffee was left. I reached into the refrigerator and grabbed the whipped cream. As I heaped a small mountain of it on top of my coffee, I thought I heard a knock on the front door.

  Chapter Five

  My eyes flashed straight for the clock. It wasn’t really all that early, I thought. I went to the front door to investigate. Peeking through the eyehole, I could see someone in some type of uniform. I couldn’t see a face, yet I said, “Hello.” Just then the person turned toward the door. It was Irish. Wearing a uniform? I quickly unlocked the door. “Hey,” I said trying to steady the towel on my wet head. He looked at me, snickered and with one eyebrow up he gave me the most devilish grin.

  “Hey back.” His eyes moved down to my knees and then up to my eyes. I was still holding the can of whipped cream. “God it’s never easy with you, is it?” Our eyes held for a moment and we both smiled nervously.

  I grabbed the top of my robe and pulled it together with one hand, and I felt my stomach tighten in a noticeable knot. I keep forgetting how incredibly gorgeous he is. “Irish, what’re you doing here?” I barely got the words out when I realized I was staring back at him.

  Those blue eyes were piercing holes in me now. “I had to go to work for a few hours, and the job was a few miles from here, so I wanted to stop by and make sure you weren’t upset with me.” His voice was sweet and sincere.

  I gave him a little impish smile. “Irish, I’m not angry at you, but maybe you should come in before Judy’s neighbors start to talk,” I opened the door. He came in, standing in the front entrance. Maybe he was afraid if he came any farther, I’d try to molest him. “Do you want a cup of coffee or some juice or something?” I asked walking to the kitchen.

  “No thanks,” I heard him say.

  “Sit down on the sofa, Irish, I promise not to bite.” I laughed, reaching for my coffee and putting the whipped cream back in the fridge. I was now grinning ridiculously, one he couldn’t see. When I returned from the kitchen, he was still standing by the door. I sat down on the sofa with my coffee. He stared at me and I stared back. He finally moved toward the sofa, and I grinned to myself. It was almost like a spider welcoming the fly into her web, I thought.

  I needed to say something now before Irish could hear my heart pounding in my chest. “So, where do you work?” I asked. His eyes moved from mine to my tiny little robe, then back up to my eyes. He smiled and suddenly looked down at the floor in front of him, shaking his head slowly.

  “What?” I giggled. He still wouldn’t look at me but he was smiling from ear to ear. “You could’ve called and I would’ve gotten dressed,” I said feeling like I needed to justify my appearance.

  He looked up at me now, smiling, but a bit more serious, and said, “Jurnee, The biggest reason I’m here is to explain about last night. I didn’t say anything then because
I thought it might make you feel more uncomfortable than you already were, but there are cameras on our property.”

  “There were cameras by the fountain?” My eyebrows rose and I felt my lips press together tightly. I stared into his face. “Really” was all I could think to say.

  He nodded his head. Maybe it was nerves, but all I could do was laugh. He looked at me, tilting his head in confusion.

  “So now I’m a porn star?” I threw my hand over my eyes.

  “Jurnee,” Irish said sounding a little panicked by my behavior. “I erased the tape when I got home last night so no one is ever going to see it.” I dropped my hand and looked at his face. He smiled at me. “Promise,” he said.

  I set my coffee on the table and grabbed the top of my robe tightly. “Thanks,” I said. He looked at me with an apologetic face.

  He placed his finger under my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “No problem, Pepper,” his smile gentle. I laughed. Pepper the Porn Star, that was kinda funny, I thought. He moved his finger from my face and sat back on the sofa. I watched him sit all the way back, as if he planned to stay awhile. Releasing my robe with my hand, I pushed myself back into the sofa too and turned toward him.

  I decided that maybe I’d ask him what he meant last night, maybe let him explain what he’d said by the fountain. “Irish, last night, after well, you know…what almost happened.” He focused on my face now and though his lips were turned up a little, he wasn’t smiling anymore. He was giving me his full attention.

  “You said that you wanted it to be special, something that we’d look back on…” I nervously looked down in front of me “…as one of the best days of our lives.” Neither of us moved.

  I looked up and into his eyes, “What did you mean by that, exactly?”

  He had a sweet smile on his face now, almost as if he knew how hard that must’ve been for me to get out. “Jurnee, I just want it to be something you want to remember because of the incredible way you make me feel. I want you to have those same feelings for me; I want you to feel the same way that you make me feel when I’m with you, or I’m thinking about you, or seeing you.” He turned his body toward me. “I don’t want to do it, as you said.” And he paused thoughtfully, “and then you go away. Jurnee, the last thing I want to do is freak you out, but I know I have it bad for you, and sometimes it scares the crap out of me. I realize that I don’t want you ever not to be in my life. Just the thought of that ever happening physically hurts me.”

  I couldn’t imagine what my face looked like at that moment, but I felt a huge chill go through my body and I felt the goose bumps on my arms. He reached over and playfully pulled the towel down from my head and I felt my wet hair fall around my face. We were meant to be together, at least in his assessment.

  He smiled at me. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you, Miss Jurnee Ciara, and I don’t…no I absolutely won’t mess this up.” His voice was warm and alluring at the same time. He was going to make me cry. His expectations of me now somehow felt like some kind of pressure. An expectation that I was sure I couldn’t live up to. He reached his hand out, palm up on the sofa between us.

  I reached for his hand. “You know, Irish, I haven’t had anything that even resembled a real date in probably...” and my eyes darted to the ceiling trying to think, “…more than three years now.” He looked me in the face so sweetly like I’d just proposed to him or something, “and so I’m probably going to let you down, hard, whenever we do get the opportunity to do it.” With some difficulty I gave him a half smile. The reality of my words was shredding my confidence. He perked up.

  “I really doubt that, Jurnee,” he said, giving me a little wink. “You really don’t understand, do you? Of the millions of women in this world, my heart only loves you. I can’t find anyone out there like you,” he paused and my eyes stared anxiously into his as I tried to absorb this unearned respect he held for me. “And believe me, I’ve looked. I don’t want to look anymore. I want to do this the right way. I want to date you. I want you to fall as ardently for me as I have for you.” I pulled his hand, gently placing it on my bare knee. He tilted his head and gave me a sly grin. “Jurnee, this isn’t fair, you know that, don’t you?” I smiled back and he squirmed a little, gently pulling his hand back to his lap.

  Looking up at the clock and away from me, he said, “I really have to get the truck back. Someone needs to take it out in a few hours.” I kept my stare on his face. He was struggling with himself, and for some odd reason I was deriving some pleasure from watching it. Quickly and without warning he stood up, running his right hand over the back of his neck before looking down at me with a faint smile and apologetic eyes. I almost bounced myself up and off the sofa. We stood there silently assessing each other.

  I knew what he said; I even appreciated what he wanted to do for us, but it was as if I had this angel on one shoulder and a little devil sitting on the other. I was naked under this robe. I couldn’t think of anything in this moment that I wanted or needed more than to be with him. I wanted to be selfish. I wanted my way with him. I wanted him to hold me, feeling his warm body. Irish’s face was looking even more uncomfortable now. I took one step toward him and continued staring. He quickly looked away toward the front door. Within a second or two he turned back to me, now staring just as seriously as I was. Any smile he’d had disappeared.

  He took my shoulders with both hands and shook his head a little, “Jurnee, I’ve tried to explain my feelings and my wishes, but I’m not walking out of this house if this is something you really want. Just tell me, help me do the right thing for you,” his face looked stressed.

  I listened to his words and pushed myself into his chest. Hiding my face from him, I was smiling so much I could feel every muscle in my face tense up. I took a deep breath and pressed myself further into his body. I wanted to squeal. In that moment I was so incredibly happy. He hugged me tightly, gently rocking me in his arms. I felt his chin on the top of my head. Why was I feeling as though I’d just won the lottery? I finally pushed myself from his chest and looked up into his face. I could tell that he was somewhat confused and waiting to see or hear something from me to help him understand what I wanted from him.

  I reached for my robe and slowly untied it. I reached up lifting it off my shoulders. It dropped to the floor. He continued to stare into my eyes. I felt beautiful standing there in front of him and reached for his hand, which he immediately gave to me. He took a slow guarded step toward me and with his other hand stroked my wet hair behind my ear. He leaned toward my exposed neck, slowly planting a gentle kiss before tenderly pulling my naked body toward him. He hugged me tightly in his arms but I quickly pushed back and turned from him, provocatively pulling him toward my room. With no words spoken he’d accepted my decision and I wanted this to happen. I didn’t want to give either of us time to change our minds.

  In silence he followed. At the foot of the bed, I released his hand and lay back naked on my bed watching his every movement. He stood there staring at me while slowly unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them and his boxers over his hips thoughtfully. He pushed them to the ground and then lifted his shirt off slowly. He stood there completely naked. The look in his eyes literally took my breath away. I watched him take me all in and my heart raced in my chest until I felt overwhelmed with a type of need I’d never felt before. I held my hand out to him and he slowly crawled up my body. On his hands and knees above me, he lowered himself down resting his body lightly on top of mine and began gently and tenderly kissing my cheek. He slowed, then broke his kisses long enough to look deep into my eyes. The smell of him so close made me lick my lips in anticipation. The fire I felt inside of me was evident in my expression as I patiently waited.

  His breathing deepened, his bare chest pressing into mine. “Are you sure about this, Jurnee?” he asked keeping his voice sweet and level. There was nothing in this world that I was surer of at this moment. I’d dreamed of this, of him, and now he was really here.


  I’m not sure of the way I sounded, but I heard “yes,” somehow squeaked out of my lips and my eyes bore deep into his, demanding his full attention.

  “I need you to be my first, Irish. I want a do-over; no, I need a do-over” and he had an understandably confused look on his face. I reached for his neck and pulled him closer to me, his soft lips finding mine. He was slow and gentle. No words could describe my feelings; I only knew for sure that I wanted my body to melt into his. I traced along his jaw with my finger tip as he watched me, his eyes almost apologetic.

  “Jurnee,” he breathed, “I’m the last person who wants to ruin this now, but what about protection?”

  “I’m on the pill,” I quickly answered. With that he lowered himself down while staring deep into my eyes. He didn’t have to say another word. In that moment he felt better than I ever could have imagined him. His thoughtful eyes spoke directly to my heart. Where I was soft and wet, he was hard and strong, and I could feel the heat steaming off both of our bodies, a warmth building, anticipating the coming attractions. I knew he could feel it, too. I’d waited for this moment, for him, for what seemed like forever. His head finally dropped, his face was buried in my neck and hair as he moved gracefully in and out of me. It felt genuinely as if he was making love to me. I softly moaned as I gripped my arms around him, pulling my body closer, allowing him deeper into me. He held back but I wanted it all.

  “Please don’t stop,” I whispered as my eyes slid closed. The sound of his labored breaths lustily intensified the act for me.

  He cradled my thigh up and anchored it with his arm while looking into my open eyes and began thrusting faster and harder.

  “You girl are a bad, bad little putty tat” and his eyes were filled with nothing but genuine raw lust. Our breathing became jagged as he lowered his hand and tenderly touched my spot. His playful, deliberate moves made me jolt reflexively as he finally lowered himself all the way into me. Finally, he was totally mine. He started kissing my face and his mouth moved steadily along my jaw. I could tell from the look on his face that he was nearing release and then began the overwhelming sensations, an unbelievable intensity in me as I watched Irish, his eyes tightly closed, reach his peak. I felt every pulse of him inside me. His eyes were still closed and he held his head above me. When he opened his eyes, I couldn’t help but smile at him.