First Time: Ian's Story (First Time (Ian) Book 1)

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First Time: Ian's Story (First Time (Ian) Book 1) Page 12

by Abigail Barnette


  Had it truly been that serious? If I’d known that, I would have made it more of an occasion. “I had no idea it would mean that much to you. But I’m honored that it did.”

  After a moment of companionable silence, she asked, “Can I tell you something? Something that might sound…too soon-ish?”

  “Yes?” Alarm bells sounded in my head. A lot of women in my past had told me things “too soonish”, and it was almost always the thing common knowledge insisted wasn’t the thing you were supposed to say. I had almost always said it back, either because I meant it, or I felt put on the spot. With Penny, I would have meant it. It was stupid to pretend otherwise. But those other women weren’t around anymore, and I’d fallen hard for them, too. I didn’t want what happened with them to happen with Penny. Partially because she was so young. She didn’t seem flakey or reckless with her emotions, but I feared she might feel something for me that could change on a whim. Bodily tense with dread, I resigned myself to hearing exactly the “too soonish” words I knew were coming.

  She turned her head, gazing up at me thoughtfully. “You are a really great guy.”

  My head dropped forward from genuine relief and the sudden relaxation of muscle tension, and my face grew hot at her praise.

  “You are,” she went on, strong in her insistence, as though she could see through to my self-doubt. “You’re funny, you’re very good-looking, you’ve got a sexy accent—”

  I made a noise of disbelief and put my glass down on the table. She had enough positives she could make a list, which didn’t sit well with a man who felt profoundly insecure. “If you like Scrooge McDuck.”

  She forcibly ignored my criticism. “And you did something really thoughtful for me, and I know you did it without any expectation of getting something in return.”

  “How do you know I wasn’t trying to get something in return?” I asked then realized how that might sound. “I wasn’t, but how did you know that?”

  “Because you’re not as good at putting up a front as you think you are,” she answered without pause. She reached up for the hand that rested on her shoulder. “You’re a good man, and that shows through. Even if you think you’re hiding it under all that self-deprecation.”

  I had to smile at that. She had me figured out, displaying an astuteness that was slightly intimidating. “All right. You caught me. I just wanted to make you happy.”

  “And that’s why I’m not scared of how fast things are going,” she explained.

  I was glad one of us wasn’t. “Oh? Well, that wasn’t as serious as I was expecting.”

  “I know what you were expecting. And I liked watching you squirm,” she admitted.

  I’d like to watch her squirm. Preferably while my head was between her legs. But that wasn’t on the menu yet, so I had to settle for a different tactic. “Penny, I have to ask you something.” I kept my voice low and serious, in the nature of our conversation so far. I stroked the back of her hand with my thumb and looked deeply into her eyes. “Are you ticklish?”

  I didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead, I went on the attack. Her side and ribs were the most vulnerable, so I trapped the hand she held mine with and poked at her with wiggling fingers. She couldn’t fight back. She was too busy trying to not slosh wine all over my couch. I truly didn’t care if she did; I hated the couch, anyway. Her loud, desperate laughter would have been repayment enough for its destruction.

  But she didn’t know that. “The wine! The wine!”

  “Oh, fuck, I forgot,” I pretended. I released her and reached for my own glass. I took a long drink then casually placed my glass on the table. I took her glass, too, and put it beside mine. That gave me just enough time to earn back her trust, which I shattered in an instant by lunging for her and really committing to the tickling this time. She squealed and wriggled, and I teased, “You wanted to watch me squirm, I get to watch you squirm. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

  She slipped sideways down the couch, and I followed mercilessly, until she was gasping for air, her elbows tucked tight to her sides in defense.

  “There are better ways of making me squirm!” she shouted through her laughter, and I realized I was on top of her, my knee between her legs, looking down at an amazing view of her breasts as gravity made them swell above the V-neck of her T-shirt.

  The moment changed in an instant. My mouth descended on hers, and she rose up to meet it. She sank her hands into my hair, holding me fast against her.

  Kissing Penny was like kissing the sun. She scorched through me, sizzled up the blood in my veins, and blinded me with such white hot need that I didn’t care if I burned. I sat up and pulled her with me. It wasn’t graceful or smooth by any means, but it ended with my feet firmly on the floor and her knees on either side of my lap on the sofa. I couldn’t get enough of her mouth, her skin; I stroked my fingers down her throat, fearful I wouldn’t be able to remember the line of it, the way the hollow beneath her jawbone looked in the dim light.

  God, I wanted her. Not in a solely sexual way. I wanted her to be mine, in the most Neanderthal sense of the word. And I wanted to earn that. So there was no way I would break her trust now, when she’d given it to me without asking anything in return.

  She pushed against my chest gently, and I reluctantly pulled back.

  “Just to be clear…tonight is not the night. Do you get my drift?”

  It hadn’t occurred to me that it might have been. Penny had been forthright from the beginning that she didn’t take the subject of sex lightly and that we weren’t going to be having it. I didn’t think that had changed after four dates. “I do. We are absolutely clear.”

  Relief lifted shadows of caution from her face; I was surprised she didn’t sigh audibly. The thought that she had even braced herself for rejection, or worse, an argument, saddened me. Her body language and her hesitation to even assert her position revealed that she’d been treated that way before. That she’d become accustomed to it.

  “Good. But…that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make you feel good.” She smoothed her hands across the front of my shirt and undid the top button. I recalled with vivid clarity her comment at the park, about giving great hand jobs.

  Surely that couldn’t be what she meant? Could it?

  I didn’t want to seem presumptuous. “You’re making me feel pretty fucking good right now, Doll.”

  I had to kiss her neck, her beautiful long neck. So, I did, at the very base, in the little triangle between her shoulder and her collarbone. She made a squeaky noise and protested, “You know what I mean.” Pausing to gasp, she added, “Can I?”

  My presumption had been right? I blew out a resigned, but thankful, exhale. “Jesus, Penny…do you think I could turn you down?”

  I couldn’t. That was the answer to that particular question. There were very few occasions on which I would turn down a woman who wanted to touch my penis. When she was warm and genuine and funny? There was no chance I could resist.

  Bunching her t-shirt up, I slipped my hand beneath and found one of her bra-straps. I gave it a tug. “Is this too forward of me?”

  “Not at all. I can take it off,” she offered.

  I found the hook-and-eye closure and popped it open. Practice makes perfect, and I’d had plenty of chances to perfect that move. A flare of dismay gripped me. I hoped she didn’t follow that same line of thinking. After our discussion about my night with Sophie, I didn’t want Penny wondering about other women when she was with me.

  And that was enough thinking about other women for me, as well. The woman I wanted was in my arms, her silky blond hair brushing my face. I fell into those soft golden strands and tried to memorize the scent. “You smell like flowers.”

  She tilted her head and all of that cornsilk fell from my fingers. When I’d drawn her, one of my favorite features had been her ears. They were slightly too large, and that imperfection only added to her beauty. The delicate curve was too tantalizing. I followed the line of it with my mouth,
nibbling down to suck on the lobe and lightly scrape it against my teeth. Her moan surprised me; it was deep and throaty, in total contrast to her speaking voice, which sounded the way I imagined the flavor of cotton candy would sound were it able to speak. That moan was the flavor of warm brandy. It could have raised my cock from the dead.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this,” I breathed as I licked and sucked my way down her neck, “since we kissed in the park.”

  “And since the pool?” She laughed, out of breath.

  I chuckled. “Then, too. Giving you that kiss on the cheek after lunch on Wednesday? Was the biggest test of my willpower to date.”

  “Well, please don’t exercise any restraint, now,” she gasped.

  As if I had any left. I moved my hand from her back and pushed it beneath her unfastened bra. Her breasts were lovely, round and just big enough to fill my hand. She shivered when I palmed her flesh.

  My mouth wandered down her throat, the meeting of her collarbones. Her skin was so soft, I couldn’t help the low “mmm” of appreciation that escaped me. I raised my eyes to hers. What I wanted to do was push up her shirt and suck the naked peak of one nipple into my mouth, but there was time for that. We could take all night if she wanted, Sunday mass be damned. My commitment to God didn’t seem quite as important as the hot, tight blond in my lap, at the moment. And I didn’t feel He could really blame me. After all, He’d made Penny in His own, perfect image, and she was undeniably some of His best work.

  A faint smile crossed her lips as she leaned down, taking my face in her hands. I poured all of my thankfulness and fear and desire into the kiss. It went on and on, a slow savoring of each other that tightened the already tense thread of attraction between us. Whatever it was that made her want this, want me, I was grateful to it beyond words.

  She pulled at my shirt and rasped, “Can I unbutton this?”

  “Be my guest,” I told her, and she popped two more buttons, then slipped her hands inside to glide over my chest. She pressed hungry kisses over whatever exposed skin she could reach. Every touch, sigh, and shudder blended together. I sank deeper into the intoxication of exploring what elicited the best responses from her; stroking the side of her breast was good, circling her nipple with my thumb even better. I wasn’t sure if it had been five minutes or forty-five minutes that we stayed that way, her thighs squeezing mine as she rocked in my lap, our hands and mouths on each others’ bodies.

  It was a particularly agonizing pleasure to have our most intimate parts rubbing against each other through thick denim. She sat back, pushing perspiration damp hair from her face as she swung her leg over mine to sit beside me, rather than astride me. She laid her hand over my fly, and my cock leapt up eagerly.

  “You unzip,” she said, adding, “I don’t want to be held responsible for any accidental maiming.”

  The thought of ending up like Ben Stiller in that horribly awkward movie wasn’t anything to joke about. “Christ, I hope you’re not speaking from experience.” I tried to laugh.

  “No. Caution.” She fixed her gaze on my hands, and I reached for my zipper.

  If she stared any harder, she could have just burned my pants off with her heat vision. I felt as nervous as I’d been the first time a girl had seen it. That had been more years ago than I cared to remember. “This is always a nerve-wracking moment.”

  “I promise I won’t laugh,” she promised gravely.

  Penny was nearly perfect. But she needed to work on her sense of timing and choice of phrasing. “Thank you. Your confidence is very reassuring.

  “No, I meant—” She giggled and, apparently deciding I couldn’t be trusted to unveil myself properly, reached into my boxers and curved her fingers around my cock. My lungs nearly burst with the air I sucked in; in one simple act, she’d satisfied my longing and intensified it at the same time.

  “See, nothing to worry about.” She jiggled her hand a bit and pushed my shirt up. “Oh my gosh, and you’re uncut!”

  That was the first time I’d gotten such an enthusiastic reaction from an American woman before. “And that’s a plus, is it?” I asked with a faint sound that should have been a confident laugh.

  “Yeah, I’ve never been with a guy who wasn’t circumcised.” As she spoke, she rolled my foreskin up to cover the head then slowly retracted it. “Is there anything I have to do differently?”

  “No, no, that’s…” likely to make me come in three minutes. “What you’re doing… Keep doing that.”

  She snuggled at my side with a contented sigh. Instead of trying to stroke me the way I would myself, she glided her hand up and down without any hurry, as though she wouldn’t mind spending hours doing it. Her sweet body pressed against me, and every thought in my head evaporated. The only things that existed were the squeeze of her hand and the pulse in my cock, and after a while, I was lifting up to meet her.

  She sat up and gripped me with both hands, gently twisting. She tapped the underside of my shaft with her fingertips and asked, “How’s that?”

  “Jesus.” How was it? I exhaled loudly. It was a barrage of sensation. My toes curled at the top of each stroke. Penny knew exactly what she was doing. Forcing me to admit it only made it hotter. “You weren’t joking at the park, were you?”

  “I would never make a promise I couldn’t deliver on.” She was breathing heavily and squirming in her seat. Was she as turned on by this as I was?

  Well, probably not as turned on. It wouldn’t be long and I would reach a point of no return. “Ah, Penny. That is…” I groaned in dismay. “I’m a bit embarrassed, Doll. I don’t think I’m going to impress you with my staying power tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.” She licked her lip, and whether it was unconscious or meant to be as outrageously erotic as it was didn’t matter. “I’m very good.”

  I closed my eyes. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to absolutely explode in her capable hands, but it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes since she’d started. What if she thought that was all I was good for? I thought, if I just didn’t look at her, at her flushed face and her breasts bouncing as she pumped me, I would be able to hold out longer. But the moment my lids closed, she picked up speed. I clenched my fist, but everything was already tightening up anyway.

  Then, a hot, wet touch startled me, and my eyes flew open to see Penny with her petal pink lips wrapped around the head of my cock as she tugged me. I tried to say something, but it was too late. All I could manage was “Oh, fuck,” as I came.

  She froze, my cock still pulsing in her mouth, and swallowed. My body jerked. A keen sense of shame swam up through the haze of near-perfect pleasure that still blanketed me. I’d fucking come in her mouth, without asking. I should have stopped her to get a condom if she wanted me to. I should have pulled out or pushed her away or—

  “I am so sorry,” I apologized helplessly. “I didn’t have any time to warn you.”

  She hung her head and laughed. “I’ll take that as praise.”

  “And fully deserved.” I struggled to sit up. “Give me a second. I’ve got to go clean up a bit.”

  She reached for her glass of wine “Okay. I’ll just finish this.”

  Should I have offered her some water? I stood. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m as good with my mouth as I am with my hands.”

  I humiliated myself with another failed attempt at a laugh and went to the bathroom.

  What the fuck was that? my brain screamed at me the moment I met my eyes in the mirror. Who fucking comes in another person’s fucking mouth without permission, then gets up and walks the fuck away? After she was so nice and fucking understanding about it?

  I hurried myself along, cursing internally the entire time. Penny probably thought I was an asshole, running away like I had. Hopefully she would give me a chance to make it up to her.

  Make it up to her? You’d better make her come so hard her life flashes before her fuc
king eyes.

  She was still on the couch when I came back, lying half-propped against the back. Her hair was slightly mussed, her gaze focused on the city beyond the window.

  She looked up as I sat beside her. Maybe she was wondering if I was the type of man who metaphorically rolled over and went to sleep after he’d gotten off? I didn’t want her to think I was ungrateful, but my simple “thank you” didn’t seem like enough.

  She smiled. “Any time.”

  Any time? There were few times in my life that my body had said, refractory period? What refractory period, and it seemed fairly likely to happen tonight. When I pulled Penny into my arms, the sense of sexual relief I’d been enjoying was quickly shoved aside by a new surge of desire, just from the feeling of her body beside mine. I kissed her cheek, her jaw, all the while imagining all the things I could do to make her feel as fucking fantastic as she’d made me feel. “I apologize for the interruption.”

  “I thought we were done.”

  That brought all of my intentions to a screeching halt. “Do you…want to be?”

  If she did want to be, I felt fairly silly; my mouth was on her neck, my face in her hair, and that apparently inconvenienced her, and I felt like a right arsehole.

  “What? No, believe me, I am totally fine with this. I just figured that since you already…” she hurried to reassure me, but somehow it didn’t make me feel particularly better.

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I usually don’t.” Her soft tone betrayed her embarrassment.

  Did she think it was her fault that she hadn’t?

  “Wait.” I sat up, frowning. “You’ve been giving men absolutely splendid hand jobs—”

  “Thanks!” she said, her face brightening up like a clear morning.

  “Praise well deserved,” I said, before I went on, “but none of those men ever made you come?”

  “Not because they weren’t good at it. They probably were. I didn’t let them try.”

  Oh. “Oh.” What did I do now? If I offered to help in that arena, would I be pressuring her to do something she didn’t want to do?

 

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