I’ll take him up on his dare. I’ll tell him, outright, that I want to have sex with him.
Only, as my mouth runs dry at the thought, I realize it’s not quite that simple. Being that forthright, saying the actual words, is genuinely terrifying.
I wet my lips with my tongue, mostly for something to do, and feel another flutter of something as I see Thad’s eyes follow the motion. “I want you to touch me,” I say, breathlessly.
I must sound a little too winded, because Thad raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I don’t think it counts if you can’t say it without hyperventilating.”
The challenge in his tone ignites something in me. “Then let me tell youwhereI want you to touch me.”
His gaze intensifies, something scorching flashing through his eyes. He swallows. “Where do you want me to touch you?”
My arms fall down to my sides. I tentatively reach up one hand to touch my lips. “Here.” I let my fingertips drift down the side of my face to touch my neck, the rest of my body already shivering. “Here.”
I know where I’d want him to go next, but I hesitate, suddenly shy. No, not shy,afraid. I realize all at once that he’s right—this is playing with fire. What will I actually do if he touches me where I ask him to?
Thad’s gaze softens a little, and he looks away, running a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s okay, Sister Helen. It’s not too late to stop the game now.”
He starts to stand up, and I know he’ll find some excuse to lock himself in the bathroom, go get another room, or do something else that will end this moment forever.
“No!” Without thinking I move forward and stop him from getting up, pushing him back into the chair. He sits back warily, looking up at me.
“Everywhere,” I tell him. “I want you to touch me everywhere.”
A long moment passes. Something shifts on his face and he reaches for me, slowly, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll pull away. When I don’t, he rests his hands on my hips, the thumb on his right hand playing with the hemline of the shirt.
It’s such a little gesture, but it sets my whole body on fire, and I’m no longer shy, no longer afraid. Well, no, that’s not exactly true, but those feelings become muted. The need throbbing between my legs drowns out any other feeling. “Please. Please, Thad.”
He sighs raggedly, not advancing, but not releasing me either. “I want to, Helen. That’s not the issue. But I don’t want to take advantage of you when you’re vulnerable. Your first experience, it should mean something?—”
“I don’t care if it means anything,” I blurt out, and it isn’t just the lust speaking. Maybe I’ll regret this in the morning, but right now, I’ve never meant anything more in my life. “I’m thirty-one years old and I’ve never been touched by anyone. I’m not asking you to make any promises. I know this isn’t some romantic fantasy. I just want to feel something. Please.Please?—”
I guess it’s the second please that does it. All at once, Thad pulls me forward, onto his lap. It’s clumsy and I’m not expecting it, so I have to readjust myself so I’m straddling him. He twines his fingers into my hair and pulls me into a kiss, not gentle or exploratory like the first time we tried this. This kiss engulfs me, drowns out the rest of the room, the rest of the hotel, so nothing exists except for him and me.
Even if I wanted to laugh this time, I couldn’t, because as our mouths are fusing, I feel his hands moving away from my hips. Roaming over my backside first, then up my back, around to my stomach, before finally finding my breasts.
I gasp into his mouth and Thad pulls away. “Fuck.”
I already feel bereft of his mouth and am about to chase his lips when I catch his expression. He is watching my breasts as he fondles them, seeming mesmerized. His thumbs chase my nipples, still peeking through the thin fabric of the T-shirt, and he circles them again and again.
At my gasp, Thad looks into my eyes. What he’s doing to my body feels incredible, but it’s honestly almost eclipsed by seeing his response to me. Being desired by him is a heady high, and I want him to keep going, to do whatever he wants to do to me, so long as it keeps that look on his face.
“Thad,” I breathe.
He captures my mouth again, hands releasing my breasts. I almost protest until I feel his fingertips sliding underneath the hem of my shirt and moving, ghost-light, over my skin, until he reaches my breasts again. His skin on my bare skin is electric. His mouth moves to the shell of my ear, down my neck, as he kneads my breasts. Almost unbelievably, his hot breath and warm mouth on my neck feels even more amazing than his hands on my breasts, but the dual sensation has my core throbbing. I am straddling one of his legs and start shamelessly thrusting against it, trying to relieve some of the pressure I feel building there.
“Fuck,”he says again, breathing it into my neck this time. “You need this, don’t you?”
With one hand, he reaches down to cup me over my panties. I cry out, begging, gasping, bucking against him wildly. “You’re so sexy,” he tells me as he rubs his thumb over my nub, again and again and again. “You’re so goddam sexy.”
I come apart, shaking and gasping and clinging on to him. After my shudders have subsided, Thad kisses me, long and slow, then nudges my nose with his. “Do you want to stop there?”
A murmur of protest escapes my throat. I grip on to his shirt, holding him in place, not wanting to lose his warmth for even a moment. “Don’t you dare.”
He laughs, quietly, under his breath. Then, standing, holding me, he puts me onto the bed.
I watch, breathless, as he takes off his shirt, his pants, leaving only his underwear on. He is…wow. I didn’t know people could look like that in real life. He’s broader than I would have imagined under his clothing, his shoulders wide and sturdy, his chest a map of muscle and ink and hair and scars. His erection tents through the thin material of his boxer briefs, and I stare at it, mesmerized and a little afraid.
“Can I?” he asks, reaching for the hem of my shirt.
