Losing It
Page 5My hands rested at his hips, and I wanted to do some exploring of my own. I pulled my hands in until they rested on his stomach between us. At my movement, his lips pressed a little bit harder against mine. His tongue pushed a little bit deeper. I slid both hands up, feeling the hard curves of his body beneath the fabric of his shirt. When my exploration reached his chest, his hand tugged my hip forward, so that my stomach was pressed against him.
I could feel the way he wanted me, and a trickle of anxiety started at my spine. Then his kiss turned harder and faster, and I raced to follow his lead, ignoring my nerves.
I left one hand on his chest, and wrapped the other around his neck, and pulled myself up farther on my tiptoes, so that my hips lined up with his.
Garrick broke the kiss, and exhaled shakily against my lips. The brilliant blue I’d seen in his eyes earlier was overtaken almost completely by his black pupils. He placed a hand on my jaw; his thumb pulled at my bottom lip. For several long seconds, he just studied me.
“You are ridiculously sexy, you know.”
I lowered my heels to the floor, my calves burning too much to stay on my tiptoes. And I couldn’t look in his eyes any more. Every time I’d almost completely turned off my brain, he said something to turn it back on. I said, “You know you don’t need that line. I was already kissing you.”
“And what a good kiss it was.” His thumb brushed against my lip again, and he tipped my face back up toward him. “I’d like to do it again somewhere that isn’t your bathroom.”
“Oh, right.” Was he asking to go to my bedroom? I was pretty sure he was asking to go to my bedroom.
I fumbled with the doorknob for a few seconds before my clouded brain managed to swing the door open. We exited into the dark hallway again, and his hand found my back once more.
“Sorry, the hallway light is out, and I haven’t had a chance to change it.”
His lips were right by my ear when he answered, “I don’t mind the dark.”
All the tiny hairs along my skin stood on end.
We stepped into the living room, and I flipped on a light that actually worked. My apartment was a loft with an open floor plan. Two walls were brick, and the other was painted a pretty plum color. The ceiling was tall with exposed pipes criss-crossing above us. My bedroom was off to the right, separated from the living room by only a lavender curtain since I didn’t actually have a door.
“Well, this is my living room.” I gestured with one hand, unsure whether he expected a tour or if I should just skip straight to the bedroom. I’d never done this before, so I had no idea whether we were supposed to do the traditional niceties first. My heart ran wildly as he walked around the room, inspecting a painting here, a knick-knack there.
“It’s nice. Fits you, I think.”
I beamed. I loved this apartment. It always made me feel like I was in an episode of Friends.
“I’m ashamed to say that my place is still covered in boxes. Wouldn’t have made for a very interesting tour.”
God, how I wished we were at his place. Then he would be in control. I hated not knowing what I was supposed to do next.
His eyes flicked to the curtain that led to my bedroom. It was quick. His eyes were almost immediately back on the lamp he was standing next to, but I saw it.
This was it. I was about to have sex.
Should I tell him now? Or right before?
I remembered Kelsey’s advice, and forced myself to dial back my fears. I turned the volume down so low that I could pretend I wasn’t thinking at all.
Before I chickened out, I walked forward and held out my hand. He took it immediately, and I led him through the curtain and into my bedroom. There was no overhead lighting in this area, so I flipped on a lamp to my right, and then left him to turn on another beside my bed.
When I turned around he was holding up the indecently short mini-skirt that Kelsey had made me try on earlier.
His eyes met mine, and his grin made my lungs feel like they were on the verge of collapse. I snatched the skirt out of his hands, scooped up the few other articles of clothing still on my bed, and threw them into my closet.
“Sorry about that.”
“You don’t hear me complaining.”
I raised and eyebrow, and said, “Forget about it. You will never see me in that skirt.”
“Never? Is that a challenge, love?”
“It’s a promise.”
He skirted the corner of my bed to join me in the space between my bed and the wall. “I’d feel very comfortable helping you break that promise.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder, his index finger dipping beneath the strap of my tank top.
“I’m sure you’d be comfortable helping me do a lot of things.”
His hand tightened on my shoulder and his eyes dropped to my lips.
“That I would.”
Then he kissed me.
He didn’t bother with soft and sweet this time. There was a hungry desperation in his kiss that had me gasping into his mouth. His teeth pulled on my bottom lip in the same way his thumb had earlier, and my whole body trembled in response. He bent slightly, and swept an arm around my waist, pulling me up and against him so that our bodies were lined up perfectly.
My toes barely brushed the floor, but it didn’t matter. He was holding me up. I buried my hands into his messy locks, and threw myself into the kiss. He took a few steps backward, and sat on the edge of my bed. On instinct, my legs went on either side of his lap, straddling him. The hand that had been around my waist curved around my butt and pulled me against him.
If I had any doubt about where this was heading, it disappeared then. He pulled me again, his own hips tilting up at the same time, and I broke the kiss, gasping. His mouth skimmed across my jaw and down my neck. His lips lingered over my pulse point, his tongue brushing across the sensitive skin. He continued down over my collarbone until my tank top blocked any further progress. I thought he would stop, but he slipped the tank top strap off my shoulder, and his lips never left my skin. His other hand snuck beneath the bottom of my shirt, teasing the skin around the waistband of my skirt.
We broke our kiss to let the fabric pass between us. I resisted the urge to cover myself as his gaze raked over me. And God was I thankful that Kelsey had insisted I wear some cute lingerie. This particular set was black and white lace.
When he looked at me, it was with such obvious desire that I knew he didn’t care about that little pudge that had stressed me out earlier. His right hand kneaded my breast gently, while his left found my neck. He pulled my face close to his. I thought he was going to kiss me again, but at the last second, he swerved, and he pressed his cheek against mine. He dropped a kiss on the edge of my jaw, just below my ear. And God did that feel amazing. It was just a small innocent kiss, but it had me gripping his hair, and pushing my hips down against his. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Did I say ridiculously sexy? I meant unbelievably sexy.”
I was unbelievably turned on.
He kissed me again, and then turned and laid me back against the bed. He paused to pull his shirt over his head, and for the first time I got to see the hard planes of his body that had fascinated me earlier. He rose up on his knees, my legs still splayed on either side of him. He stopped to study me again.
This was the part where I should tell him. I should just say it. Just spit it out.
I’m a virgin.
Just three words.
Not that hard, right?
I swallowed, and cleared my throat.
Then he ducked his head, and pressed his lips against the skin of my stomach, and all my thoughts disappeared.
Chapter Six
It was possible that I might not make it to the sex. With the way he was mapping out my body with his lips—I was going to spontaneously combust before we ever got that far.
His fingers trailed up my thighs and stroked the skin of my hip just below the waistband of my panties. Something in my brain detonated, and panic filled me.
I was going to be so terrible at this… the worst he’d ever had probably. And then he’d never want to see me again (and I really wanted to see him again). I’d probably be traumatized and never want to have sex again, which meant every relationship for the rest of my life would fail, and I would end up alone and miserable with nine cats and a ferret.
I didn’t want to end up alone and miserable with nine cats and a ferret.
Then one of his hands pushed my panties to the side, and I was anything but miserable.
Black danced around the edges of my vision, and all the feeling in my body seemed to narrow to that one spot where he was touching me, and holy heart failure, it felt amazing. His fingers hit a spot inside me that had me arching up and towards him. His head dipped, and he started dropping kisses across my chest.
My hands had a mind of their own as they kneaded at his back, and then slipped around to his stomach, where I flicked open the button on his jeans. He made a sound in the back of his throat, and his lips crashed against mine. He kissed me fiercely, pressing me down into the mattress. The kisses kept building—harder and faster, and I needed something more. I slid my hand along the taught skin of his stomach, to the front of his jeans. Then his lips broke from mine with a groan. He didn’t pull back, but kept his lips millimeters from mine. His breath came out in a rush.
“Oh God, Bliss…”
I was about to repeat my mantra again when his lips and hands came back to me—frenzied, almost desperate.
I could feel the pressure building low in my core, and every muscle in my legs was pulled tight as I waited for what I knew was coming.
Then he dragged my panties down my legs, and his body settled into the crook of my thighs, and it was like I’d just been submerged in ice.
I was about to have sex.
With a guy I’d just met, who I knew absolutely nothing about.
And He knew nothing about me… including the fact that I was a virgin.
And God, I wanted to go through with it. I was sick of being a virgin, and he was unbelievably sexy, but this wasn’t me.
I couldn’t do this. Not with him.
I just… couldn’t.
I froze up beneath him, but his mouth continued worshipping at the juncture between my neck and shoulder.
I should have told him I was a virgin or that I wasn’t ready. It wouldn’t have been pretty or easy, but at least he would have understood… probably.
Instead, my eyes locked on the porcelain cat cookie jar I’d inherited from my great grandmother, and my brain created a ridiculous excuse out of the first thing that came to my mind.
“Stop! Cats! Stop…”
What the hell was I saying?
I put the heels of my palms against his shoulders, and pushed up slightly.
He pulled back, his eyes dark, his hair mussed, and his lips swollen from our kisses. I almost changed my mind then. He looked almost irresistible. Almost.
“Sorry, love. Did you say cats? ”
“Yes, I can’t do this… right now. Because… I have a cat. Yes, I have a cat that I need to, um, get? Take care of! I have to take care of my cat! So… I can’t do this. “I gestured between us, hoping to God that I didn’t sound as crazy to him as I sounded to myself. Improbable.