Bad Romeo (43 page)

Oh, God, yes. That, right there. That’s what I want.

“Ohhhhh … Jesus.” His eyes glaze over when I close my hand around him.

“Please, Ethan.” I’m so whiny, I’m almost ashamed. “Ruby isn’t going to be home until tomorrow. We have the whole place to ourselves. Please.”

The look on his face tells me he’s about to say something I don’t want to hear, so I kiss him to shut him up and stroke him slowly. He moans and grips my thighs. Neither of those things makes me any less frantic.

I stand and unbutton my jeans then tug them down to my knees in record time. I try standing on them to get them off, but they’re skinny jeans, and the stupid things won’t go over my giant feet.

“Dammit!”

I yank my right foot up and try to pull it free, but I end up overbalancing and face-plant into Ethan’s crotch. My chin hits something soft, and he doubles over and cups himself.

“Fuuuuuuck, woman…”

“Sorry! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

He collapses sideways on the couch. I try to stand, desperate to help in some way, but my feet are still encased in my jeans, so I just end up falling over again.

“Fracking frack!”

Holt groans, his face half turned into the couch cushion. “Taylor, if you’re going to be a badass who destroys her boyfriend’s balls, you’re going to have to start using real swear words.”

I sit on the ground and tug at my jeans until my feet are free, then I kneel in front of him. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

His voice is strained when he says, “Well, I don’t have the problem of coming in record time anymore, that’s for damn sure.”

I lean down and stroke his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that. It doesn’t help.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

He eyes my jeans, which are like a denim pretzel beside me. “You’re the only person I know who can turn getting undressed into an extreme sport. What the hell is the rush?”

“I just … I want you.”

“I want you, too, but that doesn’t mean we have to have sex this very second. We haven’t even been to third base yet.”

“Yes, we have.”

He scoffs. “No, we haven’t. I’d remember you going down on me. Or me going down on you, for that matter.”

All of the blood that isn’t currently pulsing down south now rushes to my face. “You haven’t— I mean …
That’s
third base?” I have a flash of self-consciousness about him being all face-friendly down there. “I … uh … I thought that was fourth base.”

He sits up and frowns. “Cassie, fourth base is sex. How many bases do you think there are?”

I don’t know, but I want him to teach me about all of them.

I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away. “Just … stop, for a second okay? What’s going on with you?”

“I’m sorry, I just—” I slump back onto my heels, feeling frustrated and foolish. “You make me crazy, and I want to do stuff to you and have you do stuff to me, but you keep stopping and I…” My eyes prickle. I can’t pretend his continued rejections don’t hurt.

“Come here.” He pulls me up onto the couch, and we lie side by side.

I sigh when he grazes the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “I just get the feeling I want this more than you do, and that sucks, you know?”

He looks at me like I’ve accused him of liking Adam Sandler movies. “You think—” He shakes his head. “You think I don’t
want
you? Are you fucking serious?”

He runs his hand down my side and reaches the bare skin of my thigh. “How can you possibly think for even one second I don’t—” He looks down. “Fuck me, what are you wearing?”

My panties and bra don’t match, but he doesn’t seem to care. He runs one fingertip around the edge of my lacy boy shorts. It’s the closest he’s ever come to delving beneath the fabric, and my heart rate immediately goes into overdrive.

“You like these?”

He closes his hand over my hip. “I like
you
. Your panties are just a bonus. If you understood … if you had any idea how much I—” He looks at me, eyes heavy and dark. “Cassie, I want you,
all the time
. Too much.”

He leans forward to cover my mouth with his, and the light suction almost distracts me from the way he runs his hand down my leg to grip the spot just under my knee.

“I have to be careful with you,” he says between soft, slow kisses. “Because if I screw this up…” He kisses my neck, almost talking to himself. “I really don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t.” I take his face in both hands to make him look at me. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen, right?”

He grazes fingers across my stomach, then slowly moves up to my breasts. He teases me there as he kisses my neck, then my chest, then the swells at the top of my bra. Just when I think he can’t inflame me any more, he moves his hands lower. And lower. Then he’s
right there
, over my panties, touching gently at first, then pressing harder, making my breathing shallow. He takes control of my pleasure like he has an instruction manual, watching my face the whole time to gauge my reaction.

How is it possible? How can he know what to do to my body when I’m still fumbling and clueless?

Within sixty seconds, he has me closer to orgasm than I can get in ten minutes on my own. I subconsciously rock against his hand, to try and find the magical fulcrum of sensation that will tip me over the edge.

“That look,” he says, as I press my head back into the cushions. “That belongs to me. The way your mouth drops open. Your eyelids flutter. That look is all mine.”

Then I gasp, because he pushes
into
my panties and brushes aside the lace. He’s never done that before, and ohhhhh, dear God, his fingers …

His perfect, virtuosic fingers.

I squeeze my eyes shut as he touches parts he’s never touched before.

He groans, too, and presses his forehead against mine. “Jesus … so soft. And bare. What the fuck are you trying to do to me?”

“Ruby.” I’m panting and barely coherent.

“No, I’m Ethan. But if there’s some awesome lesbian tale you’d like to tell me about you and your roommate, I’m all ears.” He presses harder.

“No,” I say, barely able to get the words out. “Ruby forces me to get Brazilians. That’s why I’m bare. It hurts like hell.”

He moves his hand faster, and I can’t keep my eyes open.

“Right now, Ruby is my hero. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

“Oh, God … Me neither.”

Then it feels like he’s kissing and touching everywhere at once, and everything is hard breaths and low noises. He tightens and coils me, until I think I might pass out from the intensity.

“I love making you come,” he whispers, right before it happens. My back arches, and all the tightrope strands of me snap and unfurl.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God …

He murmurs his approval as he watches me spiral through layers of pleasure, and whispers encouragement until I’m panting and boneless beside him.

Wow.

Just …
wow
.

The last few shudders fade, and I melt into his arms, beyond relaxed. Endless days of frustration and sexual tension disappear, and I’m so heavily satisfied, I can’t move. Thank God at least one of us knows how to get me off.

He pulls my panties back into place. I take deep breaths, but it seems to take forever for my pounding heart to slow down.

When I open my eyes, I see him looking at me with an expression that makes my pulse race again. But as soon as our eyes meet, something shifts, and his emotional shutters slide down.

I stroke his face in an effort to keep him with me. “That was … amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Lord, yes. So, you’re telling me that was … what? Second base?”

“Uh huh.”

“Wow. Second base rocks.”

“Do you feel less … frantic now?”

“Yes. I feel like a sloth on Valium.” I trail my hand down the front of his jeans and feel how hard he still is. “So, can I help you relax now?”

He tenses. “I’m relaxed.”

“First of all, you’re hardly ever relaxed. Second,
this
part of you is definitely uptight. I’m guessing he’d like a little trip to third base. Or maybe even a home run.”

“Cassie…” He moves away and sits at the other end of the couch. “We’re not going to have sex tonight.”

“Why not?”

He turns to me. “How can you be so blasé about having sex for the first time?”

“I’m not blasé, I just don’t think it’s that big a deal.”

“That’s the definition of blasé.”

I sigh. “Okay, fine, but I think I’m ready. And I can tell you are, too, so I don’t understand why you keep saying no. I mean, aren’t you uncomfortable? Don’t you want some relief?”

He gives me a wry smile. “Do you think all of those trips to the bathroom during our stay with Mom and Dad were to pee? You must think I have the smallest bladder in the world.”

“You mean, when you went to the bathroom you were…”

“Yep.” He says it with very little shame.

Just the thought of him pleasuring himself makes my face flame. “In your parents’ house?!”

“I grew up in that house. I’ve been masturbating there since I hit puberty. Besides, it was either that or walk around for the whole weekend with a hard-on, and believe me, that would have been worse.”

“But if I turn you on so much, why aren’t we naked in my bed right now?”

He adjusts himself and runs his hand through his hair. “Cassie, I’m hyperaware that you’re a virgin, and apart from the pain you’re going to feel the first time, it’s also going to be a milestone in your life. You’ll never get to have a first time ever again, and I … I just don’t want to screw that up for you.”

“How on earth could you screw it up? It’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing. I mean, judging by what you can achieve with just your fingers, having your whole body is going to rock my world.”

“I’m not talking about the actual sex.”

“Then what are you talking about? Because I’m kind of confused here.”

He looks down at his hands. “What if we do it, and you figure out I can’t be the boyfriend you need and end up hating me? The memory of your first time would always be tainted.”

“Why would you even think that?”

He takes a deep breath. “Because it happened to me.” He clasps his hands in front of him and squeezes his knuckles until they crack.

It takes me a few moments before the penny drops. “Oh! Vanessa? She was your—”

“Yes.”

We sit in silence for a few seconds, and I feel bad for doubting he wanted me. It never occurred to me he was trying to make sure I didn’t jump headfirst into a sexual relationship I’d end up regretting.

“I just don’t want you to make the mistakes I did,” he says.

I nod. “Okay. I can see where you’re coming from.”

His eyes are guarded but tinged with the lust I saw earlier. “You can?”

“Yeah. I kind of think … well, it’s actually pretty sweet of you.”

He frowns. “Don’t call me sweet. Call me hot. Or awesome. Or well endowed. Kittens are sweet, not me.”

I try not to laugh. “Okay, fine. You’re a hot, awesome, well-endowed bad-ass.”

He nods. “Better.”

I poke him with my foot, and he grabs it. He gives it a gentle squeeze before he brings it up to his mouth so he can kiss my ankle.

Oh, sweet Holy Mother …

“So,” he says as he kisses my calf, “my point is, I might have a lot of issues, but not wanting you isn’t one of them. Controlling myself around you, on the other hand…” He looks pointedly at my panties and bare legs. “That’s a definite problem. You have me so turned on all of the time, I’m embarrassed to think how short my fuse will be when we finally seal the deal.”

I move over to straddle his hips and wind my fingers in his hair. “But we are going to seal the deal?”

He puts his hands on my thighs and strokes slowly. “Maybe. If we try this boyfriend-girlfriend thing for a while, and you don’t want to murder me.”

“Yeah, I’ll go out on a limb and say that even if I wanted to murder you, I’d still want to have sex with you. Are you sure you don’t want to do it tonight? Ruby has, like, a thousand condoms in her nightstand. She wouldn’t miss one. Or four.”

He drops his head back and half groans, half laughs as I kiss his neck. I know how much he likes it when I nibble and suck. Am I trying to make him forget all the noble reasons we should wait? Maybe. All I know is that the longer I spend kissing him, the hungrier I get. He thinks I could end up regretting sleeping with him. I doubt it. But I do know that if he leaves here tonight without making love to me, I’d definitely regret that.

I kiss him all over, trying to break down his resistance.

His chest is warm, and I use soft lips and gentle fingers. When I look up, I find him watching me. As I move farther down and explore the ridges of his abs, he tilts his head back and exhales.

I whisper things into his skin. I tell him how beautiful he is, how special, how much I need him. He replies with a frown. I don’t think he believes me, but I’m determined to make him.

When I go back to his mouth, he lets me see more of his need and kisses me so deeply, he makes me dizzy.

When I reach for the fly of his pants, he pulls back, breathless. “I thought we agreed to not have sex tonight?”

“No. You said we should wait. I didn’t agree.”

“But you said you understood. You thought it was sweet.”

“I do understand, and your concern is sweet. I just think it’s completely unnecessary.” I graze my fingers across his chest and watch as goose bumps form. “If you really don’t want to take this any further tonight, no problem. Just tell me to stop.” I kiss his neck. Taste his skin. Salty and warm despite the chill outside. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

He grips my hips as I grind against him, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you want me to stop, Ethan?” I kiss his clavicle, his pec, just above his nipple. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Or do you want me to keep touching you?”

When his eyes open, there’s fire there. Deep and hungry.

He wraps his fist in my hair. “You don’t think I can stop, do you?”

“I know you can. I just really hope you won’t.”