“Ready?” I asked.
She gave me a small nod and reached for my hand. I twined our fingers together, hers icy from the walk from house to vehicle. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Where’d you tell your dad we were going?”
“Great Lakes Crossing.”
“So should we go there first?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I do actually have a few things I want to get.” She gave me a cryptic smile.
When we got the mall, we strolled around for a while, chatting and browsing, but then we passed a store and Becca split away from me, telling me to meet her at the food court in half an hour. I knew she was up to something, but I went along with it, spending most of the time in the athletics store. I ended up with a new pair of cross trainers for the spring, and was waiting by Aunt Annie’s with five minutes to spare. She showed up with a wide grin on her face but no shopping bag.
“Didn’t get anything?” I asked.
She shrugged. “No, I did.”
I frowned. “What was it, then?”
She wrapped her arm around my waist, fitting herself against me. “You’ll see. You’ll like it…I hope.” When my confused look didn’t go away, she just smirked at me. “Here’s a hint: I’m wearing it.”
I started to get an inkling then. I gulped a little, wondering how I could ever have mistaken Becca for shy.
“What are you grinning about?” she asked as we drove to the hotel where I’d rented a room.
“Just that I used to think you were shy.”
She laughed. “I am shy, just not with you.”
“So…what color?”
She ducked her head, and her cheeks darkened a little. “Not telling. You’ll have to find out.”
We reached the hotel after a short drive, but we sat in the car in tense silence before getting out.
Becca wasn’t looking at me, scratching at her knee intently.
“I don’t want you to think…” I sighed and started over. “I mean, we don’t have to do this now. We can go back to the mall, or a movie. Or just home.”
She shook her head but still didn’t meet my eyes. “No, I want to. I’m just…nervous.”
I expelled a breath of relief. “Me, too, Beck. Me, too.”
“Do you think that means we’re not ready?” she asked, finally lifting her dark eyes to mine.
I shook my head. “I think we’d be nervous no matter how long we waited. I think it’d be weird if we weren’t nervous.”
She nodded. “Let’s go in. We’ll just…take it one step at a time.”
I got out and circled around to open her door while she was still unbuckling. She took my hand, cold fingers slipping neatly into my palm. Her teeth were white as she smiled at me, a private, brilliant, beautiful smile just for me. The concierge, a dour older man, gave us a hard, disapproving stare as we strolled past him to the elevators. We stood outside room 425, the keycard held in my suddenly sweating and slightly shaking hand, my eyes on hers, asking her silently if she still wanted this. She leaned into me, her arm going around my waist, low, her hand on my hipbone.
I slid the card into the lock and pulled it out, shoving the door open when the green light flashed. The room was dark, shadowed by the drawn curtains, a gleaming crack of light showing. I fumbled in the darkness, finding a switch and illuminating the room. A single bed, king-sized and enormous, took up most of the room; I’d splurged on a fairly nice hotel and an upgraded room.
I turned around from switching on the light to find Becca peeling her coat off, revealing a tight white V-neck T-shirt that clung to her curves, the “V” dipping low enough to show me a mouthwatering glimpse of her cle**age. Yoga pants, tight T-shirt? Oh, god. She noticed my gaze raking over her body and gave me a surprisingly shy smile, then turned around, posing for me. She clenched her gluteus muscles, the yoga pants clinging like a second skin to her generous hips and ass, and all I wanted to do was run my hands over her. I stifled the urge for about six seconds before remembering why we were there, alone in a hotel room on a Saturday evening.
I crossed the space between us to stand a few inches away from Becca. She started to turn around, but I stopped her with gentle hands on her shoulders. She turned her head to watch me, her chin on her shoulder. I slid my palms down her sides, feeling her breath catch as I carved my hands along the bell-curve of her hips, then slid them around to cup her backside. She released her breath, her eyes sliding shut briefly.
“I love your ass. Especially in yoga pants,” I murmured.
Her brown-black eyes flicked up to mine. “I know. That’s why I wore these. I had to kind of sneak past my father before he saw how tight they are.”
My hands explored the taut, supple curves of her ass, down her thighs, up her hips. I grew a little daring and slid my middle finger up the crease where the stretchy fabric clung between her cheeks. She gasped when I did that, so I did it again, letting my finger drive a little deeper, until she pulled away with a breathy laugh.
She stepped away from me and turned around, sliding her knit cap off her head and shaking her curls. “Sit down on the bed, Jason.” Her voice held an odd note of command, and I couldn’t help but obey.
“Don’t interrupt, and don’t laugh,” she said. “I want to do this for you, but I know I’m going to feel silly.”
“Do what?” I kicked off my ADIDAS cross trainers, and then peeled away my socks.
She tilted her head back, eyes closing, hands pushing up through her springy mass of hair. “This.” She let her hair fall and slid her hands down her waist, much as I’d done, and then crossed her hands in front of her body to grip the hem of her shirt.
I swallowed hard, and felt the blood rush out of my brain to pool in other areas of my body. Noticeably so, I was sure.
And then, oh, lord god, she glanced at me with heavy-lidded eyes, and slowly peeled her shirt upward. When she reached the underside of her br**sts, she paused, drawing out the moment. She wasn’t dancing, wasn’t trying to do a striptease, she was just being…naturally sexy. Giving me a show. And oh, god, what a show. I could see her hands trembling on the hem of her shirt; I could see her knees shaking, just a little.
She tugged the shirt up farther, and the white fabric was so tight against her skin that her br**sts were drawn up and pressed against her chest, only to fall free with a luxurious bounce. I hardened even further at that bounce. I stopped breathing once I registered what she was wearing. It was strapless and pink with black lace curling around the bottom edge, the cups split apart between her br**sts, her tan flesh barely contained. I struggled to swallow past the lump in my throat, to breathe at all at the sight of Becca in nothing but a bra and yoga pants. She stood with her hands at her sides, taking long pulls of air, each breath swelling her br**sts even larger. I couldn’t help but adjust myself, and her eyes followed my hands.