“How do you know, Blythe? I have to know you’re sure about this. Not because you feel bad or you want to save my mangled heart. I don’t take emotional handouts. Because if you say you’re all in and it’s me and you, one hundred percent, and we do this, I will not be able to let you go.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled before finally allowing the words to come out. “I know…because I never wanted him the way I want you.” Her misty eyes bore into his. “I never let himput his hands on me the way I let you. I never once ran to his bed in the middle of the night for comfort. I never felt whole when he held me in his arms… I don’t even know if I knew what whole was until you held me.”
She reached out to lay her hand on the large chest in front of her. She could feel his heart beating under her palm, through the fabric of his shirt.
“I know, because when I look at you, my heart grows wings. When I look at you, I can see the future I was destined for. Not the half-assed one I planned for myself. You’ve taught me what it means to be truly, romantically, and deeply loved. Not just because you’ve said beautiful things with your words, but because you’ve shown me with your actions every day since I met you. I trust you, Justin Forge. I trust you to love me. I trust you with my heart. You’ve earned it. All of me is yours—if you still want me.”
Justin put his hand over hers, still pressed against his chest. His free hand moved to cup her cheek as his fingers threaded through her hair.
“You’re damn right, I still want you… I want you like my horse needs to run, and I need you like the earth needs rain. I want all of you, every piece, broken or not. I want every single inch of you, right now—today, tomorrow, and with every breath I take after that.”
His forehead pressed to hers, and she could no longer hold back tears as Justin’s mouth collided with her own, swallowing every sob.
Maybe the adage about hurt people hurting people applied here, as well. Healed people heal people—and Justin Forge continued to stitch her back together with each word he spoke, every tender touch, and the enormous amount of space he was capable of holding just for her.
She pushed at his chest to break their kiss and gave him a breathless yet ardent conviction. “Then show me. Right now. Take me upstairs. I’m done waiting. There’s no reason—not anymore.”
Practically pacing a divot into the hardwood floor of his bedroom, Justin waited. He told her to take her time—but the minutes passing started to feel like hours. When he’d imagined his first time with Blythe, it was in the moment, full of uncontrolled passion. That, of course, was in hisman-mindand not at all the reality of what should happen when it washerfirst time.
Facing the back wall of the room, he heard the door to the master bathroom click open. Taking a deep breath, he turned around to see her auburn hair falling around her shoulders, legs smooth, the skin there glowing. She was wearing one of his many solid black T-shirts. At average height, around five-foot-four, it hung down just low enough to cover her.
“I’m not fancy, Justin. I don’t have beautiful lingerie or lacy panties…” She wasn’t being shy or pitiful. Her tone was confident and matter-of-fact. “You just get…me.” The look on her face was content as she took a deep breath of her own.
“I don’t want to see you in anything but that shirt right there. You look fucking perfect. You look like—mine.”He strodetoward her. When he reached her, he tucked his fingers under the hem of her shirt—and with a low rumble in his voice said, “Lift your arms up, sugar.”
He was ready to take his time, all the time she needed to ease her into this. She said she was ready, and he believed her. But it was still a new experience, and he knew taking little steps toward the finish line was important. She lifted her arms high above her head, and he slowly dragged the shirt up and over, dropping the fabric to the floor beside them.
Justin took a step back, his breath hitching as he ran his fingers through his hair. He realized he must look like a total teenager—gawking at her in her matching, petal pink bra and panties. Her curves were everything—how her natural waist pinched in just right, her hips flowing out beneath it.
“Damn…” His eyes fixated on every inch of her. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful thing walking this planet, let alone standing in front of me in my bedroom…ready to let me be the first man to claim her—touch her—worship her.”
She was visibly blushing under his compliment as she started to tug at his shirt. Justin reached down, crossing his arms, grabbing the bottom on each side to help her.
Her eyes darted from his torso to his face. “I never get tired of it, you know? It’s like you’re cut out of Greek marble… And I still stop breathing for a second whenever I see you like this, or get to touch you like this…” She ran her fingers down his chiseled abdomen and found the button of his jeans. He watched as she tucked it through the hole and pinched the zipper between her fingers to pull it down, as well.
Shit, she was confident. Maybe he underestimated how ready she was after all.
“I’ve seen how fine your ass is, even if it was only for a second—but what I really want to see…is what’s down here in front of me.”
Fuuuuck.
Did she really just say that? Was someone giving this untouched goddess lessons in dirty talk, or was she just a natural at it? If his dick wasn’t awake before, it certainly was now.
He pushed his jeans over his hips and pulled each leg out one at a time. Standing only in his boxer briefs, he gave her a devilish smirk and nodded his chin toward her.
“You want to see what’s in front, sugar? Go ahead, take ‘em off.”
Her eyes were wide, no doubt because his erection was growing by the second, and he guessed she may have underestimated his size. It was very evident, even pinned down by the spandex material covering his lower half. Her hand moved around his hips to grip his ass, the other one palming his entire package in front.
He thought he would be teaching her what to do, or at least doing most of the foreplay. This was not at all what he expected. Hell, she’d practically hit her forehead on the door trying to run out the day she walked in on him all those weeks ago.
“Mmmm…” she hummed and reached up on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his. “If you thought I was going to be shy about this, you were wrong, cowboy. I’m a virgin, it’s true. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t played this out in my mind a hundred times and ached to do it for months now. When I decide to do something, I’m all in, so saddle up.”
Her dusty green eyes were burning. He made a mental note to thank the sick schmuck who drove her away and into his life. She tugged at the waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down to his ankles. His cock was large and full at attention. Even he was a little surprised at how thick it was. He hadn’t been with a woman in years, and it was about damn time. She stood, and her hand fisted around his girth, sliding back and forth, her dainty fingers barely overlapping.
“I knew you’d be like this…” Her lips barely parted as she caught a breath, looking up and down from his eyes to her grip.
His head inadvertently tipped back, his chest releasing every bit of air left in his lungs. He brought his palms up to hold her jaw and whispered deep in his throat, with his lips hovering over hers. “Do you even know how fucking good that feels?”
