A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime (Lancaster Prep )(46)

“That’s…kind of heavy,” Crew says. “And you shouldn’t have to pay for that one mistake you made for the rest of your life.”

He’s right. I know he is. “At the time, it was exactly what I needed. What I firmly believed in. I thought I still did, but now…I don’t know.”

Crew frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’m almost eighteen. And as you already know, I’ve never been kissed. I can’t go through life completely sheltered, can I? I need to experiment. Meet guys. Go on dates. Kiss them. Let them touch me. Right?”





SEVENTEEN





CREW





This entire day has been a complete revelation. Discovering Wren’s many secrets as she reveals them to me, layer by layer, bit by bit. Until she’s laid herself completely bare, and she’s asking me if she should go on dates and let guys touch and kiss her.

Just using the word guys as in plural, sets my blood boiling. I don’t want to see anyone touch her.

Only me.

“That’s up to you,” I finally say, resting my folded arms on the edge of the table. “Do you want to go out with other guys? Kiss them? Let them touch you?”

“I can’t be a virgin forever,” she whispers.

“Not like you need to go out and fuck some random guy on your first go,” I snap, sounding like a jealous asshole.

“I don’t want to do that,” she immediately says. “I just—I’ve had some thoughts lately. Done some things.”

She’s got me curious as fuck with that statement. “Like what?”

Wren rapidly shakes her head, glancing down at the table. “I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too embarrassing.” She sounds miserable.

“Come on, Birdy. It’s just me. We’re in a public spot. Surrounded by people. How bad can it be?”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” she whispers to the table.

“Look at me.” She glances up, and I keep my expression as neutral as possible. “I won’t make fun of you.”

I would never make fun of her. Not anymore. Not after she’s shared so much with me. She’s been so open. So vulnerable.

“Okay.” A shaky breath leaves her as she glances up at me. She tilts her head left, then right, as if she’s cracking her neck and readying to jump into the ring, primed to fight. “I was alone last night and I—oh God, I can’t say it out loud.”

Her face is crimson. Whatever she did, she’s embarrassed about it. I can only assume a handful of things she could possibly do while alone last night, so I decide to say it for her.

“Did you…touch yourself?”

Her green eyes are wide and fathomless. “Yes.”

My dick twitches. “Did you finger yourself?”

She nods.

“Make yourself come?”

More nodding. “A couple of times.”

Jesus. My dick is hard.

“I watched a porn too. For the first time. All the way through. I mean, I’ve seen stuff. Images. Clips. You know how it is on the internet. You can’t escape the sex stuff. It’s everywhere. But I sat there and watched a twenty-minute video between a man and a woman and it was—it was so hot.” She sounds flustered. As if she’s still aroused just thinking about it.

I shift in my seat. “What did you like best?”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

I guess I’m into torture. That’s the only logical reason for me asking her these kinds of questions.

“What part of the video did you like the best? What turned you on the most out of what you saw? What they did?”

“Oh.” More blushing. She glances around the room, as if checking to see if anyone’s paying attention to us, but they’re not. The place is bustling, with the low rumble of multiple conversations lingering in the air. I’m on fucking edge, waiting to hear her answer. “This is so embarrassing. I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”

Hot and wet is what I want to say, but I remain quiet.

She actually fans her face with her fingers, and it’s the fucking cutest thing.

“Come on, Birdy.” My voice drops. “Tell me.”

“When he went down on her.” The sentence comes out in a rush, the words strung together so they sound like one.

Whenhewentdownonher.

If her cheeks get any redder, I swear they’ll catch on fire.

“Did she come when he did that?”

“Sort of. I don’t know. It looked kind of fake. Really intense.” She shakes her head. “When I came, it wasn’t like that.”

Well damn. Now all I can think about is finding out what Wren’s O-face looks like. “Want me to be real with you right now?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“I’m surprised you’re admitting all of this to me.”

“I am too.” She covers her face with her hands for a moment, shaking her head once. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I like it.” She separates her fingers, so I can see her eyes peeking at me. “Keep talking.”

She laughs, dropping her hands into her lap. “I bet you like it.”