Page 7 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
“I have a confession.” His fingers trailed along my thigh as he spoke, and I felt his touch shivering through my skin. “I had another reason for sobering you up.”
I could barely concentrate with his fingers running along my skin. “Which is?”
His mouth closed over mine with gentle but demanding force, and I crumbled crumpled against him. My hands fell limply to my sides, the kiss stealing every ounce of control I had over my body. I was entirely his in that moment as his hands moved to cup my face. Another three hours could have passed—maybe an eternity—but when he broke that kiss, it was entirely too soon.
It wasn’t the first time Wesley Asher kissed me in this tree house, but it was the first time I didn’t want him to stop.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, Jac.” He whispered the words against my neck, his breath warm on my skin.
I couldn’t swallow back the question on my lips. “Why didn’t you want me on prom night?”
“You think I didn’t want you?” Wes laughed as though I’d said something outrageous. “I wanted you so much that I couldn’t do it, because I wanted more than one night with you. We spent a lot of time dreaming about our futures away at big colleges, and I realized on prom night that you saw separate futures, and I didn’t. I thought I could live without you if I didn’t kiss you, if I didn’t make love to you. I was wrong.”
It was as though he lifted a veil inside my head, revealing something I’d tried to hide from myself. When I left for California, I wasn’t just running away from Beauford. I was running away from Wes.
I didn’t wait for him to kiss me again. Instead I climbed onto his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my lips to his in a crush of urgency. His hands settled on my hips, and he pulled me to him until our bodies couldn’t press any closer together.
“I’m home for three weeks,” Wes said, drawing back slightly. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”
I shook my head, fumbling in his arms until my fingers found the hem of my shirt. Wes bit his lip as I tugged it over my head. “That’s just it. When you finally realize you’re ready, you don’t want to wait a second longer.”
Wes didn’t need further coercion. His fingers slipped under the band of my bra, unhooking it. I let it fall off my shoulders and onto the ground as his hands traveled to my breasts. He cupped them gingerly, brushing his thumb over my nipple. I moaned at his touch. I’d never taken my shirt off in front of a guy, let alone allowed someone to touch me like this, and there was no chance I was stopping now.
His arms cradled my back and he laid me against the floor, hesitating at the zipper of my skirt, waiting for me to nod. He continued undressing me until I was down to my suede boots. I raised my eyebrows at him.
“You can keep those on,” he said in a low voice as he stripped off his own shirt to reveal a stack of abs that hadn’t been there on prom night. Then he was over me, our mouths moving together as our bodies twisted into each other. Thick denim rubbed my naked thighs, and I strained against him. He traced the nape of my neck with the rough pad of his thumb before his fingers closed around the back of my neck, holding my head in place as his tongue dipped into my mouth. My own hands found his fly. Tugging it down, I slipped my hand into his boxers, surprised to discover he was already hard, but then again I didn’t have any experience with this kind of thing. I took him in my hand, a thrill of nerves flooding through me.
It was a heady feeling, lying here nearly stark-ass naked with Wesley Asher. I’d thought once that sex with him would be a simple in-and-out experience. Now that my boots were wrapped around his back, I didn’t want it to end.
“Are you sure?” Wes whispered in my ear.
“Yes,” I said so loudly that heat crept onto my cheeks. Thankfully it was too dark for him to see.
Pushing up to his knees, he pulled out his wallet to retrieve a condom. He tossed the wallet aside and pushed down his pants. Seeing him naked made me oddly shy, but I couldn’t look away, even as he rolled the condom on.
Wes moved forward and positioned himself carefully against me. He nudged me, and burning erupted between my legs, but not the sexy kind. I mean I’d heard that it hurt, but holy hell, it hurt! With his free hand he stroked the side of my thigh as though to reassure me.
“You okay?” he asked me.
I nodded, even as tears smarted at the corner of my eyes. But these weren’t tears from the pain, even though ouch! Slowly, he pushed in a bit farther but with a little more force. For a moment, it felt as though I was being ripped open. I gasped, drawing in a long, ragged breath. Then he was inside me, steady and still, as he dropped to hover over me. Wes kissed away my tears and reached for my hand, pulling it to his chest where he held it as I adjusted to the sensation of him.
Then he began to move slowly. It hurt less, shifting to something that was almost pleasant—a fullness, or rather a wholeness th
at I’d never felt before. His forehead pressed against mine, slick with sweat, and his breath quickened as his hands grabbed my hips. But even as a tremor shuddered through his body, he remained in control, not pushing my body for more than it could handle. And then it was over.
He withdrew carefully, asking once more if I was okay, but I was too dazed to answer him. Lying down, he tucked me against him as I tried to process my thoughts into words but nothing came.
“How do you feel?” he finally asked me.
“I’m not sure. I thought I would feel different afterward, but I don’t. But then again I do.” My answer was hesitant, full of stops and pauses.
He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You’re still you, Jac.”
“But everything’s changed and nothing has,” I said, still struggling. “It was everything, but it was over so quick.”
Wes chuckled at this, and I realized too late what I had said. “I’ll work on that.”
“Want my help?” I asked, nuzzling against his collarbone.
