Текст книги "The Girl of Sand & Fog"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

 

 

CHAPTER 12

It’s dark by the time we reach Santa Cruz. The six-hour drive has been torture. My heart is thumping so rapidly it feels like I’m going to have a heart attack and for some strange reason I really want to call my mother.

Stupid, Kaley. That would so be the wrong move.

I left Pacific Palisades feeling almost drunk from the wildness of being on the edge of a change in my life—a change I’m desperate for, lied to get out of the house to make happen, and definitely want. More than eager to be five days alone with Bobby. No going home at night. Going to sleep and waking up next to him. No one stopping us. Just us. Together. Loving each other. Finally totally and completely everything a couple should be.

I left Southern California feeling determined, in control; my femaleness pumping through me like an adrenaline rush. Now I feel tentative and absurdly afraid. Reality started to melt down my euphoria when the cars with Zoe and Jake, Seth and his date cut out in Cambria for lunch, and Bobby decided to keep driving up Highway 1 without them.

An hour ago, I lapsed into silence and pretty much haven’t said a word since. I’ll be alone with Bobby at least three hours in our temporary digs in Santa Cruz before everyone else catches up—thanks to Seth’s mystery date keeping everyone waiting at Jake’s, and Bobby deciding we should start out before the rest of them to get things ready—and I don’t need to ask Bobby why he maneuvered that one.

He’s going to fuck me the second we get through the front door. The way he’s been watching me the entire drive tells me that. He’s never looked at me this way. And the light touches and little kisses throughout the hours have stirred my flesh into an unrelenting burn from head to toe.

The air around us is filled with sexual tension, but even as urgent as I am to have sex with him, sharp bites of nervousness I can’t quell nip at my insides.

This is so not the way I always pictured it would happen. I just sort of figured I’d be in the moment, my body carried beyond my control, and then I’d be screwing some guy and that stupid virginity thing would be done with. But this is different—and so much harder—a moment I have to make happen, step into, and consciously decide to do.

I don’t even know how to have sex with a guy. Not really. Doing bits and pieces in parts has got to be different than the whole enchilada and going all the way. And holy shit, we’re going to be sharing a bed for five days.

It’s what I want.

It’s not like I want to turn back.

Why am I freaking out and afraid?

Totally pathetic.

And completely embarrassing that I kind of want to call my mom and talk about this with her before I do it.

Crap, I hope Bobby can’t see that I’m scared.

He flicks the turn signal and we pull into the long driveway of a stunning house set right up against the beach. We slowly come to a stop and he turns off the engine.

My brows crinkle.

A house.

I thought we’d be staying at a hotel.

My emotions shift abruptly. I can’t tell; am I more or less nervous because of this? So ridiculous. Why does it matter where we do it for the first time?

“Whose house is this?” I ask.

Bobby pulls the keys from the ignition and angles in his seat, facing me. “Mine. My eighteenth birthday present.”

He says that in a no-big-deal, just-sort-of-is kind of way.

My eyes widen. “Your parents bought you a house as a birthday present? My last birthday I got some new cameras.”

His gaze softens into something subdued. “No. Linda bought me the house as a gift. I think she was worried I was going to take off and she’d never see me again. And if she gave me this then I’d have somewhere not too far from her to land if I did leave home.” He shakes his head. “I’d never do that to Linda. Disappear. I owe her a lot.”

Everything inside me starts to roil. “And are you going to leave after graduation and not come back like you told your dad?”

Bobby leans into me, brushing my cheek with his thumb and trailing light kisses along my jaw. “I’m never going to leave you. Not ever, Kaley.”

I feel a slight internal warning prick even as I melt into the play of his lips and touch. Not a totally direct answer. I’m not sure what it means. Right now I don’t care. A few kisses and I’m on fire in my sex.

He lifts his mouth, not pulling back, and I’m breathless. “Come on. Let’s go inside. If we stay out here much longer, I’m going to blow everything and jump you in the car.”

I stifle a laugh and make a face. “Jump me? Really? You’re such a sweet talker, Bobby.”

His eyes change, the color darkening. “You’re lucky I didn’t pull off the road two hours ago.” His voice is husky. “You don’t have any idea what it does to me having you sitting there looking at me that way. How ready I am to be with you.”

The lines of his face tighten. I become aware that we’re so close that our body heat mingles in the damp, foggy coastal air. The feel of him shoots through my veins blocking out all other thought and sensation.

I want him.

Now.

“Then why don’t you show me?” I whisper, my voice breathy and excited. “You got me here, Bobby Rowan. Why are we still in the car?”

He shakes his head. “Tonight we show each other. I want to make love to you but, Kaley, I want you to make love to me also. I want to make love over and over again until neither of us can take any more.”

Holy shit.

To cover my obviousness and trepidation, I make a silly little yikes and smile. “Extreme about everything, aren’t you, Bobby? And conceited, too. Maybe you won’t be any good. Maybe I won’t want you more than once.”

Laughing, Bobby climbs from the car and comes around to open my door. “With what I’m feeling from the both of us, I don’t think that’s something I have to worry about.” I climb from the seat and he drops a fast kiss on my mouth. “I hope you weren’t thinking I brought you here for a single fuck, a few of days of partying with our friends, and some surf time. You’ll be lucky if I let you out of the bed.”

I step into him, breathing in his scent before I touch my lips to his neck. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

He shivers and steps back, taking my hand and pulling me toward the front door. He pauses at a panel by the garage, punches in a code, and the front lights come on. We continue to the front stoop and he punches in another code and the door opens.

“Quite a house you’ve got here,” I tease, as he hits another panel in the foyer that turns on soft, recessed lighting through the living areas. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to be that easy for you. That all you’ve got to do is punch a code into me. That would definitely not be a moment I’d want to remember always. Unless you do it with your tongue. Yep, that might work…”

The look he gives me scatters my words. Oh shit. Me and my stupid, nervous babbling. OK, it was a lame joke—did I just piss him off or something else? I can’t read what I’m seeing on his face.

He releases my hand, closes the door behind us, drops the bags and then pins me against the wall, his lower body grinding into me, his mouth urgent against mine. His body is on fire, supercharged with arousal, and I struggle to match the heated thrust of his tongue, the force of his kisses and the flexing of hips into me.

His mouth lifts, but he continues to rub his erection into me, his panting drowning out my own rapid breathing. “Don’t mess around with me, Kaley,” he whispers against the skin beneath my ear. His hands move up my thighs, under my dress and then his fingers start teasing me through my panties. “We’ve been interrupted twice this week. I’ve been fucking hard as a rock since we left the ’Sades. If you don’t stop teasing me this isn’t going to go at all the way I planned.”

My eyes fly open. He’s really struggling to take this slow. For me. It’s sweet and totally Bobby and totally not what I want. I don’t want to think about it a second longer, waste another moment trying to figure out what to do. I just want to do.

I tell myself not to.

I do it anyway—

I arch my hips upward into Bobby, molding into his erection straining in his pants, and bite his neck.

“Oh fuck,” he moans before his mouth crashes back onto mine. He scoops me up into him. His fingers dig into my butt cheeks as my legs encircle his body, and we frantically consume each other as he starts moving us down a hallway.

“Why is everything a competition with you?” he whispers between kisses. “Even this. About you being in control. I want this to be perfect for you, but you keep pushing so I can’t—”

“I love you, Bobby. It’s already perfect. It’s what we both want. Let’s just let it happen.”

His eyes are bright, fervent, and I drag his face back to me, pouring every ounce of my own ragged need into our kiss. My breasts flatten against his chest with the tight wrapping of my arms around his neck, wanting to give him the feel of me as much as I can.

He sets me on a bed, sits beside me, and stills with his face against my shoulder and fingers clutching my hips. I can tell he’s trying to pull himself back into tight control and this time I let him.

I take a moment to check out exactly where we are.

The room has a massive stone fireplace in one corner. Ceiling-high windows overlook the Pacific. On the walls there are framed photos of him surfing and stunning paintings of seascapes. The enormous bed faces toward the ocean, the frame made of a distressed timber that looks almost like driftwood.

He starts moving around the room and I focus on anything but him, not wanting to lose even a small measure of my nerve now.

There are candles everywhere. Lit. I don’t know how, but someone was here before us to set them ablaze and I think they opened up the house because it doesn’t have that stuffy smell of having been shut up for a while. It smells of clean ocean air.

The room is perfect. Like a dream. And this is where I’m going to give myself to Bobby for the first time. This is it. We’re going to do it.

I’m feeling a little badly that I pushed at him in the foyer because one look at this place tells me it wasn’t bullshit, he does want our first time to be special, and he took time to think it through.

He slowly pulls back from me and stands. He steps out of his flip-flops, pulls off his shirt, and his hands move to the fastenings of his jeans. They sink low on his hips, and I stare at his beautifully muscled, sun-bronzed torso, suddenly quaking like a leaf even though the muscles inside me are pulsing almost to the point of pain.

Turning, he gazes at me, his face flushed and the skin taut across his features. He pulls from his pocket a handful of foil squares and tosses them on the bedside table. “Do you want me to blow out the candles?” he asks.

“No. You know I love candles. Everything is perfect exactly how it is. I can’t believe you did all this, Bobby.”

“I’ve been imagining this, you and how I want it, since the first night in your car,” he admits, not the least bit embarrassed by that confession, and his confidence out of nowhere is so sexy that it makes the blood pump faster and faster through my body.

Leaning down, he kisses me, quietly this time, his tongue dancing and playing, fucking my mouth in an unhurried thoroughness matching the glide of his hands on my body. He lifts my hair and his lips are on my neck. I’m impatient inside and he is moving slowly, agonizingly slow in this.

He places featherlight kisses along my jaw, my chin, and then steps back from me again. He pushes down his jeans, and his erection springs free as his pants fall to the floor.

I flush…oh my.

I’ve never seen him one hundred percent nude, not in a single dose, and he is fucking gorgeous, every inch of him lean, cut and tan. I never doubted that, but I’m more than a little intimidated by the sight of him because that part I’m pretty familiar with looks different in a complete, fully revealed package.

Somehow him standing above me, his desire for me openly exposed in full length, makes his cock seem even larger than I thought it was, and it’s so unexpected and hot that I don’t know how much longer I can remain still on the bed as he guides us through this.

“Why haven’t you undressed yet?” he murmurs, balancing on a knee, close to me on the bed.

I stare up at him. “Since you’re the one who’s got this all planned out, maybe you should undress me.”

“Really? You’re just going to lie back and let me do what I want to you?” He moans, lifting my leg from the bed and kissing his way down toward my foot.

“Maybe. It depends on what you want to do to me.”

“I want to do this.” His tongue swirls on the inside of my thigh. “And I definitely have plans for this.” The heat of his mouth behind my knee. “I want even your toes.” He pulls off one of my Converse and kisses along my arch to my ankle. “There isn’t a single part of your body I haven’t had a nasty thought about. You are so fucking beautiful, Kaley. I dream even about your feet and wake up with an erection.”

He takes off my other shoe and eases upward enough to hover over me. The loss of contact with his body makes me squirm with need.

“You dream about my feet, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Very nasty things, feet.” The corners of his mouth lift in sort of a blurred smile. “Do you dream about me?”

I suck in a breath.

I nod.

“What do I do to you in your dreams?”

I crinkle my nose. “Nothing with your feet.”

He laughs, husky and low. “No?”

“No.”

“What did you dream about last night? Don’t tell me you didn’t have a sex dream about me. I know you did. I could feel the pent-up physical frustration when you climbed into the car. You dreamed something. I did, too.”

And because I’m not the least bit bold at the moment, not with how he’s staring at me, my hands fist in his hair in a silent gesture meant to tell him what I dream about—not just last night, every night since he went down on me—and I’m not exactly sure where I want to bring his face when, on his own, he lowers his face to my lace-covered vulva.

His lips are demanding, heated and slow, as they wander from my cunt across my body. He starts unbuttoning my dress, and his eyes widen when he smooths it back to find my bare breasts. He nips his way across their rise and down my stomach to my navel.

His tongue swirls as my clothes are somehow tugged off me and then his heated breath stirs me through my panties one last time before he takes them off.

Reclined on a hip and propped on an arm, he goes completely motionless as he does a slow study of me from head to toes and then back up again.

I feel unexpectedly shy and a little anxious waiting as he does nothing but look at me for a very long time.

Shit, why doesn’t he say something?

Do something?

I’m really wet.

I’m pulsing in shockwaves down there.

Oh fuck, why doesn’t he start this?

“Do you like what you see?”

“I love what I see,” he whispers appreciatively, and my nipples harden just from the sound of his voice. “I could look at you all night.”

“You had better not look at me all night,” I murmur in agony. “If you don’t do something fast I’m going to melt before you get a chance to—”

His lips close around my nipple as his fingers tease my sex and then plunge into me. Both his fingers and his mouth go to work on me and I’m nearly convulsing. He blows gently on one rose tip, rolling it with his thumb, elongating it into his touch, as his fingers slip in me below, out and around, then back in again. Every nerve in my body is screaming with sweet agony.

My breasts swell as he moves back and forth between my hardened nipples, tugging and licking and blowing. His finger stills deep inside me and he massages my clit with his palm, and when my body arches up on the bed he takes one nipple in a hard suck that doesn’t stop.

Oh fuck. My legs are stiffening. Shit…I don’t want to come this soon. His teeth latch onto my nipple as his fingers fuck me below and I scream out, my body convulsing.

“Was that fast enough?” he asks before kissing me deeply, his tongue in my mouth muffling my cries. I want him in me now, but he hovers at my lips until my flesh quiets.

It was quick foreplay, but it was good, definitely enough to kill any apprehension about going all the way with him. I’m ready for what comes next, to feel him buried inside me as I give myself to him.

He eases back and I open my eyes. My breathing is still ragged, but he doesn’t reach for a condom. He starts moving down my body instead. He thrusts a finger inside me and I cry out again.

“You’re so wet. It’s going to be like drinking you instead of sipping.”

He moves between my legs, spreading them farther apart, and his mouth closes over me. Holy fuck. He just made me come apart and my body is heating up again. I didn’t know it could happen again so quickly.

His tongue flicks my clit, then sinks into me, teasing that inner hot spot.

Every thought in my head spins away.

There is only him, fingers and tongue, sensation and need. I’m arching again, grinding into his tending, and greedily taking every tantalizing stroke against my pulsing sex. My legs start to quake, my body tightens, my fingers curl around the bedding, and he doesn’t pull back as I ride his mouth harder and harder.

I come rough and fast against his face. I’m limp and panting. I feel him move. Through my scattered senses I hear the rip of foil and I catch a quick glimpse of him gloving his erection before his mouth claims mine and his tongue swirls in me so I can taste me on him.

He positions the tip of his erection against the entrance to my sex and starts making tiny, torturously controlled presses against my still pulsing vulva.

“You’re dripping wet and ready, but I still need to go slow, baby,” he whispers into my ear.

Each time he sinks himself a little farther in me before he pulls back to tease me with only his tip, until I moan and my body urges him to enter me a smidge deeper. He pulls back, his dick rubbing my swollen lower lips, and then slowly glides in and my lids fly wide as a sharp, weird sort of pinching sensation shoots through me as he plunges through my virginity.

He freezes, but every muscle from head to toe is trembling. “Oh God, you are so deep but very tight. Don’t move. Don’t touch me. I need to wait until I feel you soften again.”

Don’t move? How the fuck am I supposed to not move? I feel completely overfilled by him inside me, and even with the slowly dulling pain, the urge within me is to lift my hips and take more of him.

I wriggle beneath him and he stops me with his hands on my hips. His breathing is harsh. He’s groaning and shaking, but not thrusting.

He shifts his weight slightly and I open my eyes. His forehead is pressed against mine, and he’s fighting his body to the point that his features have contracted into a look of pure suffering.

I close my hands on his face, moving his head so I can spray kisses across his cheeks. “I’m all right.” My hips flex into him as I bring my mouth to his.

“I’m going to move,” he murmurs in a sweet, tight way that makes my heart swell and a laugh nearly escape me. “Just a little.”

A slow glide out and then deeply in.

I moan and arch up, the controlled moves of his body glorious torture.

“More,” I demand.

He pumps a little faster, harder, and I cry out, my body wantonly accepting him…and then he moves again, but this time he no longer pauses between the thrusts. Slowly at first, in and out, until I’m urgently meeting him, pushing our rhythm into something more frantic, and he speeds up, kissing me hard as he clutches my lower body into him.

I quiver and bow; a sheen of sweet gathers over us both.

His muscles tense.

It’s building inside him…and to my astonishment, I feel the climb in me again. Oh fuck…even with the infrequent twinge of pain, the unavoidable contact with a tender area inside my walls, I didn’t know anything could feel as good as this. Fire runs across my nerves. I am only sensation. He is whispering my name, thrusting hard, building and building with me.

“I love you, Kaley,” he calls out, and I explode with his words, tightening around him as I climax, my heart and thoughts in riotous disarray.

“Oh fuck.”

He rears up, his body going rigid as he empties himself into me. He collapses atop me, still pumping, but his body is slowing. His breathing is ragged and I can feel his pulse race.

He stills inside me. “Are you OK?”

His eyes are intense, probing and worried.

I lace my fingers through his hair. “I’m wonderful. I love you.”

He pulls out slowly and lies on his side beside me. “I love you, too, Kaley.”

He removes the condom and tosses it into a trashcan. I feel a little overwhelmed, a tad giddy, and all of a sudden unexpectedly shy with him.

“Oh fuck.”

I glance down to where he’s staring. There’s blood on the bed, the remnants of my virginity, and I flush—why does the bedding have to be white?—pulling the duvet over me and the bright red spot.

I make a silly face. “Well, that’s a sure sign my cherry has been popped.”

His lips quirk up in a half smile. “It’s also a fucking turn-on to see it. It’s going to be impossible to keep my hands off you the rest of the night.”

My eyes widen. “Then don’t.”

He laughs. “We need to take this slowly, Kaley. I don’t want to overdo it and end up hurting you.”

“Well, you better not be thinking that that’s the only time we’re going to do it while we’re here.”

He laughs, brushing the stray dark curls from my face. “Hell no. You’re getting breathers. That’s all. Get used to the fact we’re going to have a very sexual relationship.”

I sink my teeth into my lower lip. “I hope so.”

I turn on my side to face him and he eases down on his pillow, a hand beneath his head and his face close to mine.

“A very sexual relationship,” I repeat, kiss him, then pull back and frown. “Maybe. That is if you can explain to me how you’ve never had sex with a girl but know how to fuck a virgin right.”

Oh my—are his cheeks reddening?

I wait, demanding and impatient.

He exhales loudly. “Linda. She has been TMI in not so subtle wording on how I should treat a girl sexually since I was fourteen and she caught me in my bedroom slapping one off. Having regular sex lectures from my mother would have been totally humiliating if she didn’t know more about sex than practically every guy I’ve ever known and was no-big-deal about it all. My mom is like an encyclopedia. Definitely better than my dad. Even better than the Internet.”

Part of me wants to laugh in shock and a part of me wants to kiss him gently because I can see he’s a little embarrassed sharing this with me.

“Wow. I’ve never even had one sex talk with Chrissie.”

He makes a half pout and then starts lightly kissing my face. “Linda thinks it’s a parenting priority and she makes it inescapable. She said that she couldn’t stop me from being a guy, but she’d make damn sure I was a good one.” He touches my nose with his lips, laughs once, and then lifts his face. “Was I a good one? Was it all right for you?”

He stares down at me, how important that is to him not completely hidden within his shimmering green eyes.

I hug him tightly against me. “All right? I think you’ve ruined me. I can’t imagine anything better than what we just shared or ever letting another guy touch me. Not after you, Bobby. We’re perfection together. And, oh, definitely a very sexual relationship.”