Last First Kiss

by Sidney Halston

  He looked at her, and understanding showed on his face. She wasn’t ready yet. So he kissed her forehead and went upstairs to his room.

  She was twenty-seven. She hadn’t held on to her virginity on purpose. It had just sort of happened. And now it was this big thing that scared her to death. It was mostly the unknown. When she was in her teens and early twenties, the men were on her playing field. Yes, she was inexperienced, but to a certain extent, so were they. Now, she was older and so was Rocco, and he had had plenty of experience. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Hell, after waiting this long, she didn’t want to be disappointed. She’d put so much unnecessary significance onto sex that it had left her scared. But she wasn’t backing out, she was just nervous. Rocco was sweet, and gorgeous, and he meant well. He may have been waxing poetic just now, but truthfully, she couldn’t imagine an affair with him lasting longer than four months. But she felt at peace with that fact because four months was better than nothing. But she liked him. A lot. He made her feel things she hadn’t felt in so many years. Maybe never, actually.

  After locking everything and making sure the house was safe and the alarm was on, she went to the en suite in her room, took a quick shower, and got ready for bed.

  But she didn’t want to be alone. She’d been alone for so damn long. And so had he.

  Gathering her courage, she took a big deep breath and walked across the hall and slowly opened the door. He lay on the bed, his torso bare, an arm slung over his eyes. “Can I come in?

  “If you do, Annie, I can’t promise I’ll let you out.” His voice thick and raspy, his arm still over his eyes.

  She padded closer to the bed until she was right next to him. “I’m okay with that.”

  He moved his hand, reached for her shirt, fisted it, and pulled her on top of him. “We don’t have—”

  “I want to,” she interrupted him, and then slammed her mouth on his. “I’ve wanted to for a while now. And I want it to be you.”

  “Why me?”

  “You’re a good man. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “I can’t get you out of my head. Even when you’re right next to me, I’m thinking about you,” he admitted. “I wanted you to come to me.”

  “Well, here I am.”

  “You’ve waited this long and I don’t want you to think this isn’t a big deal for me.”

  “Rocco . . .” she whispered softly, then leaned down and kissed him, hard, unsure what words she could possibly say to convey the way she felt.

  * * *

  She was such a conundrum.

  By far the most complicated woman he’d ever met.

  He knew she was giving him a gift. Not just her virginity but her trust, her vulnerability. It was a side that only he got to see, and fuck, wasn’t that just the best gift he’d ever received. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed her hands on his bare chest to keep her balance.

  “You are so goddamn beautiful, Annabelle.”

  She moved down and crushed his lips with hers. For someone so inexperienced, the woman could certainly kiss.

  His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting the minty toothpaste. He smelled his soap on her skin. Words weren’t needed anymore, maybe it was an unspoken agreement or maybe they were both too nervous that the other would change their mind. Because hell, he was nervous too. More nervous than he’d ever been with a woman. It may as well have been his first time. Pushing one foot down the bed, he flipped them over softly and kneeled. Her big expressive eyes stared up at him as if he’d hung the moon.

  She seemed unsure, and it was his turn to take the lead. She’d come to him, and that’s all he needed her to do. He slid his hands under her shirt, his palms against her warm soft skin. Moving up her rib cage and under her full breasts, his thumbs grazed her nipples which were puckering out. She arched into his touch as he continued to slide his palms up, taking her shirt with him on the way up. She sat up slightly and he helped pull it up from her head and then tossed it aside.

  He tried not to think of her and other men, but he wondered how much of a virgin she was. Would this be the first time she’d be naked in front of a man? Had she ever been touched before? Had she ever touched a man? That thought made him see red for a second, but it quickly went away when he saw the softness in her eyes. And now he was scared. He wanted to make this right for her. Perfect. Memorable.

  He wanted to make her his.

  Still on his knees, he ran his hands down her lean torso, unable to look away but also wanting to close his eyes and lick from her neck to her toes until she was squirming underneath him. But he vowed to take his time even if he was worried he’d explode with need. He shifted lower on the bed and with his eyes never leaving hers he slipped his index fingers into the waistband of her white lacy boy - short - underwear - panty - things and began to slide them down her long legs. When she didn’t stop him he continued moving down until she was completely naked underneath him. A deep guttural groan escaped him when he saw just a strip of barely-there strawberry blond hair on her pelvis and everything else was bare and glistening.

  She squirmed a little at his gaze, probably feeling uncomfortable, but he made it up to her by moving slowly back up her body, using the weight of his forearms to keep his weight off of her. Then he kissed her. It wasn’t rushed and frenzied, even though that’s what he wanted. It was a slow exploration of her mouth and tongue. Her palms rubbed up and down his back and when she started to undulate under him, he almost lost it.

  Slowly he moved down. This time instead of touching her with his hands he kissed down her neck, across her collarbone, then into the valley between her breasts, pinching her left nipple and then moving his mouth to the right, looking up at her while he licked over the rosy puckered skin. When he’d had his fill, he switched to the other nipple. She had the most perfect tits. Just full enough to fill his hands.

  Knowing that the first time would hurt, he wanted to make absolutely sure she was ready for him, so foreplay was going to last longer than his cock could possibly handle.

  Moving lower still, his tongue sunk into her bellybutton teasingly, making her squirm and writhe until she was moaning incoherently. Then he moved even lower until he was right where he wanted to be. With his shoulders, he parted her thighs and got comfortable. “Let me see you, Annie. Open your legs for me.”

  She covered her face, but he looked up and tsked at her, so she just looked down at him from in between those long lashes. He parted her wet lips with his thumb and forefinger and gently blew on her swollen clit, causing a little desperate mewl to come out of her mouth.

  He latched on, sucking and licking and flicking his tongue, using all the tricks he knew until she was right there. On the precipice. And he wanted her to fall over. He needed her to come at least once and he wanted her to do it on his tongue. She tasted so good, he couldn’t get enough. He pushed a finger inside of her and then crooked it upwards, hitting her sweet spot while he used his tongue.

  Her pussy tightened around his fingers like a vise and she yelled his name over and over, almost coming off the bed as she exploded on his mouth.

  Still panting and squirming, he wasted no time in pushing his boxer briefs down, grabbing a condom from the side table, ripping it open and sliding it on.

  It must’ve been half an hour since she said a single word, except for her screaming orgasm, but now—now—he needed her words.

  “Let me inside, Annabelle.” It was a plea. He needed her to say the words.

  “Yes, please. God, yes.”

  “I don’t want it to hurt,” he said through gritted teeth, fisting his cock right by her entrance.

  “I trust you, Rock. Do it, please.”

  Slowly. Painfully slowly, he slid inside, looking at her face for signs of pain. She closed her eyes and he stopped for a moment giving her time to adjust. He widened her thighs further apart and rubbed her clit, trying to get her to focus on the pleasure rather than the pain as he moved further inside of her until he was seated ba
lls deep.

  “Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “Are you okay?”

  She swallowed and nodded her head a little frantically which meant she wasn’t okay. “I will be. Just move a little.”

  He did. He rocked slowly in and out, moving his body down until they were bare chest to bare chest, their fingers intertwined and up over her head.

  He’d never had sex like this. It was tender and intense and he didn’t know whether he was in pure bliss or in excruciating pain.

  “I’m okay,” she said into his neck. “I swear. I’m okay. Let go, Rock.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I want this to be good for you.”

  “It is.” She kissed his neck. “It’s so good. But you need to let go, I’m not going to break.” She widened her legs and pushed up a little in an unsure movement that felt so fucking good, he couldn’t stop himself. He slid in and out, in slow long movements until he felt his spine tingle and his balls tighten against his body.

  “Annie . . . baby . . . fuck . . .” He grunted until he couldn’t do anything but let go, just as she’d asked. Spilling everything inside of her, his heart, emotions he didn’t even know he had, possessiveness, a need to protect her, every single feeling converged in that moment as he collapsed on top of her.

  * * *

  Annie had watched her fair share of sappy rom coms and always rolled her eyes at the heroine who cried after sex as if it was some huge pivotal thing in her life. As if sex meant that much. She also always felt embarrassed for the woman—get your emotions under control and stop being a pussy, she always thought.

  And here she was, lying under Rocco who was still on top of her, inside of her, and heaving for breath, and a damn tear slipped from her eye and she was having a hard time catching her breath.

  What the fuck was going on? She refused to let him see her lose her shit.

  “That was . . . wow.” He pushed himself off of her and then out of her. A twinge of pain made her cringe. It had hurt when he first pushed inside, like a burn, but after he had started to move, the pain transformed into pleasure. “Shit. Sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, avoiding his eyes and feeling very exposed—physically and emotionally.

  He jogged to his bathroom, where she heard water running, then came back to the room. The condom was now gone, and it was also the first time she’d seen him completely naked. His dick, which she assumed would have softened after sex, was still jutting out impressively. His lean hard body and thick thighs were a sight. Reality was so much better than watching him in movies.

  She yelped in surprise when he lifted her from the bed. “What are you doing?”

  “Warm bath. It’ll help with . . . you know, the soreness.”

  “Oh . . . uh . . . okay.” He gently put her into the bath and she had hoped he would join her, but instead he left the room. Not knowing where they stood or what to expect, she decided it wasn’t time to worry. She’d just lost her virginity. It was about damn time. And it was good. Great, actually. Probably not for him, but she had had an orgasm, which was more than she expected for the first time and it had been with a man she had grown to genuinely care for. Rocco had been kind and gentle and now she was soaking in a big-ass Jacuzzi. Yes, this was good. Definitely worth the wait.

  She rested her head back and closed her eyes. “Take these.”

  He had walked back in, still naked, and held two pills and a glass of water. “This is the second time you’ve given me drugs this weekend.”

  He chuckled. “Just Advil. It should help.”

  “It hurt when you lost your v-card, Monroe?” Her eyebrow shot up as she took the pills and downed them with the water.

  “Ha. Ha. Next time, I’m going to fuck the smart-ass out of you.”

  Next time? So there was going to be a next time, which meant it couldn’t have been that bad. She couldn’t help but smile.

  He left the room again and she could hear some rummaging around going on in the bedroom but she ignored it as she soaked in the hot water. Finally he returned.

  “Move up a little.” Once she did, he slid behind her. Moving her hair to the side, he placed small kisses on her shoulder. “How are you doing?”

  “Good. Great, actually.”

  “Any regrets?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe he’d be a little insecure or unsure. “Do you? Regret it, I mean.”

  “Hell, no.” He continued to kiss her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her in a protective cocoon. “I was worried.”

  “It hurt a little, but nothing to worry about.”

  “Not about that. I noticed you got a little . . . emotional.”

  Oh! Those stupid tears she had thought she’d gotten away with.

  “It was nothing.”

  “So the thing is, Annabelle, outside this house you can be the tough emotionless security guard you want to portray. But in here, especially when you’re in my room, when I’m inside of you, when we’re naked, you don’t have to be that person.”

  She turned her body. “Just because my eyes leaked a little doesn’t mean I’m a pussy.”

  He rolled his eyes and smiled. “Calm down, my little crazy Tiger. No one’s calling you a pussy. What I mean is, I know you’re all those things, but you’re also soft and feminine. You have a huge heart and a lot of feelings you keep bottled up. Maybe with me you can try to put the armor away or at least soften it. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

  She shook her head with a smirk and turned back around. It had been a long time since she just relaxed. Let her guard down. Maybe with Rocco she could do that. “I’m not making any promises. But I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But—”

  “I knew there’d be a but.”

  “But when I’m outside this house working, you have to respect what I say. Security is my gig, and you have to trust my judgment.”

  He kissed her one last time on the shoulder before stepping out of the tub. “I’m not making any promises. But I’ll try,” he said, repeating her words.

  Once they were out of the tub and he’d wrapped a big fluffy towel around her, he said, “Sleep with me tonight?”

  She nodded, a smile on her face. The first chink in her armor was out in display.

  The second smile came when she’d noticed he’d changed the sheets while she’d been in the bath, not bothering to talk about it or embarrass her. She was sure they probably had some bloodstains and she didn’t want to witness that, as it would be awkward.

  As soon as they got in bed, he gathered her close, kissed her forehead, and went right to sleep.

  Tomorrow, filming would begin. She was curious to see if he’d live up to his side of the bargain when she went full-out bodyguard on him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Rocco Monroe was spotted leaving his home early this morning with a convoy of cars. Unfortunately, all were decoys and no one was able to get his exact location.

  What are you hiding, Mr. Monroe? The world wants to know.

  It was five in the morning and they were already on location. The first two weeks of filming were going to take place mostly in the Everglades, in a spot that had been scouted and made to look like a cocaine refinery in rural Colombia. Then they’d be taking off to Colombia for a few days to shoot some of the background scenes and a few key moments in the movie, and then they’d finish the movie on a set in LA.

  For two hours, the makeup crew transformed Rocco into Gabriel Mendoza.

  Rocco didn’t know his heritage because he didn’t know his parents. But he had that “look”: olive skin and inky black hair. It lent itself to playing ethnic roles, which was one of the reasons he’d been cast to play Mendoza. He hadn’t thought that the fact he was American would be such a big deal because physically, he looked the part. The little Spanish he knew, he’d learned merely from living in Miami and he’d worked with a
dialogue coach to get his accent on point.

  Funny how people had always asked him if he was Hispanic and he hadn’t really noticed why. Now, as they glued on some prosthetics to make him look like Mendoza, he could see finally see it.

  The door to the trailer opened, and Annie stepped inside. “So? Anything I should be worried about?” he asked. She had left him thirty minutes earlier to inspect the set and get, as she put it, the “lay of the land.”

  “Yes. We have crappy cell phone reception. I have a portable WiFi unit but it’s not working great out here.”

  “I’m talking about safety, not your computer geekery.”

  She stuck out her tongue. “My ability to know what is happening outside of this little tropical paradise NHN set up is paramount to your safety.” She sat down on a couch. “The good news is that we seem to be pretty hidden and NHN did a great job of keeping the location a secret. The decoys ICS set up this morning were brilliant.”

  “Any other concerns?”

  “Well, not so much a concern as an observation. First, you’re spooking me out right now. You don’t look at all like yourself.”

  The makeup artist smiled. “Thanks, hon.”

  “What’s the second observation?”

  “I sort of expected things to be bigger.” She moved an arm around in sweeping circle.

  “What? The trailer?”

  “No, the set, the production. Everything.”

  “Ow!” he yelped to the hairstylist.

  “Sorry. Sorry. Don’t move so much,” she said, focused on whatever the hell was happening on his head.

  “A lot of the big scenery scenes have already been filmed. There were thousands of extras when they filmed all the scenes showing the cocaine production and the things with Mendoza’s laborers. They’re trying to limit the people on set when I’m here since it’s been such a problem.”

  “Yeah, I know, but still. I don’t know, I just expected something else, I guess. More grandeur, or something.” She sat back and crossed her legs.