Bullet(51)

I let out a long, slow but quiet breath. “That was probably enough.”

“Stop it, Val. This is gonna be fun.”

When we were in the truck and on the road, Ethan suggested Chinese takeout. And I recognized the motel when he parked there. “Want me to pay half?”

He looked at me for a second as though considering it. “Nah. Wait here.”

I hated being left alone, because that’s when I got really keyed up. As it was, I felt on edge. The anticipation and not knowing exactly what to expect had me feeling nervous and hyper. But Ethan didn’t seem to notice.

When we got in the room, we used the plastic forks he’d gotten and just ate straight out of the cartons. I didn’t even know what he got, but I wasn’t hungry, and I only picked at them anyway. He wound up eating a lot more than I did. When we finished, he said, “Relax, babe.” He got the bottle of vodka and persuaded me to take just one big gulp. He promised it would help take the edge off. Then he sat behind me on the bed and massaged my shoulders for a minute like he had a few days earlier. “Seriously, Val. Relax.” He pulled my hair back toward him and started kissing my neck. I tilted my head the other way so he could kiss it more easily. I exhaled, enjoying the feel of his warm lips against my skin. My nipples grew rigid fast, as though it were cool in the room. But it wasn’t cold at all; in fact, it felt like it was starting to heat up.

He brought his lips to my ears, sending another vibration through my body. “Hey…I just want you to know…we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to feel any pressure. Just…stay with me tonight.”

I nodded and turned my head, and he kissed me on the lips then. Oh, I wanted to do everything, but it made me feel a little better that he wasn’t in any hurry, and he wasn’t going to force me to do anything. He moved his lips back to my ear. “Why don’t we take a shower?”

I didn’t have to think about it, even though my hesitation might have made him think I was pondering it. But I said okay.

And he led me in that tiny, plain bathroom with the bone-colored shower curtain. He leaned over and turned the water on, holding his hand under the stream to check the temperature. Then he stood up, and his eyes drilled into mine. He grabbed the tiny bar of soap off the counter and ripped the paper off, then set the bar on the edge of the tub. He returned his gaze to me and pulled his shirt off, letting it drop to the floor. I felt my mouth filling with saliva, hungry for him, but I felt awkward, not knowing what to do or where to start. My inexperience was showing, and that made me feel even more out of place.

But I didn’t mind looking at his naked upper body. Ethan might not have made working out a priority, but he didn’t have to. He had a naturally masculine physique, and he wasn’t bulky. He already had the rock star fit look down. Not thick and muscular, but lean and solid. He had very little hair on his chest, but he had a line down the center of his abdomen, leading down under the waistband of his jeans, and I almost blushed, thinking I’d be looking at it in a minute.

He smiled at me as though he could work out what I was thinking. And maybe he did know, because as he kicked off his sneakers, he was unbuttoning his jeans. My eyes were riveted. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind. It was like I was frozen, though, fascinated and curious as hell. Before I knew it, he was peeling off his underwear too, and there it was, big and thick and engorged.

I’m sure my eyes grew wide. Remember, I was naïve and had been sheltered. The only penises I’d ever seen had been in art books or the occasional flash in a movie. And those ones were flaccid. And I’d always wondered exactly how they could fit inside me. Yes, I understood the basic concept, but I didn’t expect a penis to be so…big. So my nervousness ratcheted up a notch, but I knew it was natural. And, besides, I’d had friends joke around about wanting them bigger, so surely it was okay…right?

Yeah, I’d been staring, and Ethan seemed fine with it. He got close and slid his hand over my cheek, pulling me into a kiss. Then he stepped back—just a little—and started lifting my shirt up over my head. I raised my arms. I know I was still kind of in a state of shock, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if I’d been grinning. I finally was able to move again, and I started fumbling with the button on my jeans. He smiled at me, ever patient, and reached behind me to undo the clasp on my bra. He was pulling it down my arms before I could even start shimmying my jeans down my thighs.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

I swallowed and felt my cheeks grow warm. He pulled me into a kiss again, and my nipples brushed against his chest. Oh. I liked that. That feeling was nice. It was stimulating, and I felt a shiver travel up my spine.

“Let’s get these off,” he said and started tugging at my jeans. He dropped to his knees and pulled them down to my ankles. Then he slipped first one of my shoes off, then the other. Like I was a child, he took off my socks and slid my pants the rest of the way off. Then he stood and kissed me one more time. He turned the knob to start the shower stream and pulled the curtain closed, then leaned over to pull his own socks off. When he stood, he said, “Valerie, you don’t need to be ashamed of your body. You are f*cking incredible.”

I wasn’t sure why he’d said that until I’d realized my arms were wrapped around my breasts, holding them tightly against my chest. And, really, he’d called it. My parents were good people, but they were the very definition of puritanical. My body wasn’t made to be appreciated. Anything potentially prurient or arousing had to be covered up, and—thus—bikinis and revealing tops were out of the question. Yes, I was young and probably would have chosen to avoid clothing like that anyway, simply because I was young and shy about my body. But even thinking about it had been out of the question, so I knew covering my breasts had been a subconscious reaction to Ethan’s overt admiration of my body. Even so, with his acknowledgement of it, I didn’t immediately remove my arms. He could tell me not to be embarrassed or ashamed all he wanted, but I had to get over whatever hang-ups I had first…and I also had to accept myself as a sexual creature.

I gave him a small smile, and he pulled me close once more, immersing me in a scorching kiss that took my breath away, and by the time he was done, I had relaxed my arms to return the embrace. He led me into the shower where we both stood halfway under the cascading water, and I was buried in a flood of sensations. He just kissed me for a few moments, maybe to help me relax. Oh, but it did nothing to relax me. I was wound up—I didn’t know that my nerves had been so full of foreign chemicals before, and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle the feelings.

He reached over to grab the bar of soap, and he rolled it in one of his hands to work up a lather. Then he rubbed his soapy hand across my collarbone at first, sending new tingles throughout my body, but he didn’t linger there long. With another broad stroke, he ran his hand over the tops of my breasts and then in another sweep ran it across the center, brushing both nipples as he passed over. I was immersed in a flood of sensations, overly stimulated, and I couldn’t keep up. I hadn’t been touched this way before—ever—not even by myself, so it felt good but confusing too. I decided to try to focus my attention on him instead of the weird way my body was reacting.

I wanted to touch his chest. It had been beckoning to me anyway, and I placed my tentative fingertips on his pecs. I liked the flesh there—how it was smooth but firm. And I’d had the right idea. Yeah, I was still aware of how his hands on my naked body felt, but giving myself something to do somehow grounded me, made me feel like I could keep up with what felt like a crazy race. I continued a path, working down to his abs where that tempting trail of hair was, almost like an arrow pointing down to one of my main points of fascination, that body part he had but I didn’t. It was then that, while I could see his hands gently cupping my breasts, I noticed the stark contrast between his skin and mine. His was darker but mine was milky white, and I wondered if it was because this skin now exposed to the man about to become my lover had never—literally never—seen the sun. There wasn’t a freckle or a blemish on my skin, and it was oh, so pale. But then I noticed my nerves again…probably because I’d taken my attention off him and back to myself and that delicious but unfamiliar feeling of having a man tease my nipple. So I ran my fingers over his abs a few times, trying to zero in on the feelings I was creating.

“You can touch me there.”

I looked at him. Oh, that. Yes, that. That gigantic cock that kept poking me, kept wanting to find its way inside me. Oh. He was giving me permission, encouraging me. He wanted me to do what I knew I’d been considering in the back of my mind but just hadn’t had a moment to fully process. So why the hell not?

I looked at him and grinned…just a small one, and I took the soap from him. I rolled the tiny bar in my right hand and then put it in the soap dish jutting out of the shower wall and touched him. It was a tiny touch at first, because it was something I’d never done before, so I was hesitant, and I also wanted to relish it for the first time. I touched his cock with both my hands, loosely holding it at first, but then taking first one hand and then the other down its length.