Page 108 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
Present day
CALLING JACE’S PHONE for what had to be the thirtieth time in the last two hours, I walked toward the bedroom, and ended the call when his voice mail eventually picked up again. Tossing the phone on the bed, I stripped out of my clothes, down to my underwear, and went to his dresser to pull on one of his shirts.
Jace was over a foot taller than me, and I loved the way his shirts engulfed me in his soft cologne. But right now, with his shirt swallowing me whole, and his scent making me dizzy, my heart was breaking even more. I was terrified that I’d just lost this, lost the comfort and security I’d always had in him . . . just lost him. I couldn’t lose him, not now. Please, God, not now. Not after everything you’ve taken from me.
He was my rock, he was my everything. I didn’t know how to live without him, and I didn’t want to know what it would be like to live without him.
The bed without him looked wrong, and I knew it would feel even worse.
Not wanting to experience that feeling, I grabbed my phone and tried calling him again as I walked out to the couch and curled up in a ball.
We’d had many friends—and sometimes, even family—during the years who would tell us that we didn’t know what we were missing by only ever dating each other. Saying we needed to experience other people, experience life without each other. But our parents had known, just as we had, that what Jace and I had was a love most people would never experience in their lives.
So it wasn’t that I didn’t know how to live without our relationship, or having Jace as a constant . . . I just couldn’t live without him, period.
Four years ago
AS SOON AS the door shut behind us, Jace pressed me up against it, his mouth falling to mine in a hungry kiss. We’d graduated from high school a few hours earlier, and though we were supposed to be at an all-nighter with the rest of the senior class, Jace had gotten us a hotel room.
Tonight was the night. A night I’d been waiting for, and at the same time, had been terrified for it to come. But we’d been planning this for a year now, even though I’m pretty sure the planning had made it harder for us to wait, the wait was finally over.
Leaning back a bit, his gray eyes searched my face. “If you’re not ready for this, then we won’t do it, babe. I promise you, we’ll order a movie and room service or something, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Nothing more.”
My throat felt tight, and I was afraid that if I tried to talk, he’d mistake my nervousness for fear. So instead of talking, I pressed my hands to his chest, and pushed him gently away. He stumbled back a few steps, and a confused, lopsided smirk met me, paired perfectly with one raised brow.
Forcing my hands to stop their shaking, I grabbed for the bottom of my shirt, and slowly pulled it up and over my head before dropping it on the ground. Reaching for the zipper on the back of my knee-length, flowy skirt, I unzipped it before pushing it past my hips and stepping away from the material.
Jace’s eyes were heated and his breathing had deepened as he watched me closely. The look on his face gave me the courage to unhook my bra, and drop it on the pile of my clothes.
As soon as I’d released it, I immediately regretted it and wanted to cover my chest. I still had my underwear on, but this was the most undressed he’d ever seen me. He’d seen different parts at different times, but not all of this all at once.
Before my hands could move to cover myself, Jace was stalking toward me. One arm hooked around my waist, hauling me toward his body, the other swept under my legs as he pulled me up into his arms.
A surprised gasp burst from my chest seconds before his mouth was on mine. This kiss was different from the hungry one we’d just been sharing, but it was just as passionate and needy, and exactly what I’d needed to put my fears back to rest.
Once he’d laid me down on the bed, I sat back up and grabbed for the button on his jeans at the same time he’d started pulling off his shirt; and within a minute, there was nothing covering him at all. Heat filled my cheeks, and I bit down on my bottom lip as I let my eyes fall over his long, sculpted body.
Bending down, he grabbed one of the foil packets from the pocket of his jeans, and I let out a harsh breath. This is it. It’s about to happen. Oh God, oh God!
“Kinlee, baby, we don’t have to do this.”
I looked up into his eyes, filled with nothing but love for me and worry. And I knew Jace, he wasn’t worried this wouldn’t happen, he was worried he was pushing me.
“I want this, I do. I’m just—I’m nervous, I’m scared it’s going to hurt, I’m worried I won’t do it right.”
My favorite smirk crossed his face, and he kissed me softly before laying me back on the bed. His fingers grabbed the sides of my underwear, and gently pulled down. “Like everything, we’re going to figure out our way through this together.” Once my underwear was on the floor, he crawled onto the bed, resting on his side with his face directly next to mine, his hand making lazy circles on my stomach. “I’m scared too. I’m scared of hurting you. I’m scared that you’ll regret it after and be mad at me. And if you do it wrong . . . well, shit, that means I’m doing something wrong too. So we’ll just do it wrong together.”
He smiled wide, and I laughed softly.
“We’ll go slow, and if you ever decide it’s too much, we stop. Deal?”
“Deal,” I whispered, and moaned into his mouth when his lips parted mine, and his tongue slowly stroked against mine in perfect rhythm with his finger where my body was craving him.
IN THE EARLY hours of the
next morning, before the sun had risen, and less than an hour before we had to be back home so our parents wouldn’t suspect anything, Jace pulled my body back to his, and kissed me quickly as his arms wrapped tightly around me.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as I tried to calm my breathing, and I dropped my head into the crook of his neck as I curled my small body into his large one. Our first time had been . . . difficult, and awkward. It had hurt, I’d said “ow” a handful of times, and while I hadn’t full-out cried, tears had been streaming down my face. Jace tried to stop us a dozen times when he saw my pain, but I hadn’t allowed him, and we’d somehow made it through our first time. He’d helped me clean up after, and had held me for hours, making sure I was okay. We had only slept for an hour, and sometime over the course of the next eight hours, we’d tried a second and third time. Both times hurting a little less than the previous, and both much less awkward—and more pleasurable—than the first.
