“You didn’t like it?”
“O-of course I did,” I stammer. “But?—”
“You don’t want me to make you feel good again?”
I shiver. “It’s not that. It’s just—I don’t think I can do no strings. That isn’t a judgment, it just isn’t for me?—”
“We can do strings.” He traces his thumb where he’s holding me at my hip. It’s a completely PG touch, nowhere near the bathing-suit zone, but even that brief touch makes me feel like I’m on fire. Or maybe it’s the intensity in his words, his eyes, as he holds my gaze. “We can do whatever you want. I want to be whatever you want me to be.”
I blink at him in surprise, then uncertainty—sure I’m not understanding him right. “What does that mean?” I ask him point-blank, too frazzled to be coy. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
He takes in a deep, steeling breath, and for the first time I can see he’s nervous, too, and out of his element. “I want to be with you, Helen. I’m not sure I remember how to do this—but I want to try, with you.”
Matilda didnotprepare me for this. In all our conversations about dating, she’s prepped me for the inevitable letdown, warned me about hookup culture and how no one wants to commit to anything anymore. But I don’t know what to do with the man of my fantasies, begging to give me more orgasms and promising to stick around after. And I still can’t quite shake the feeling that I must be making some rookie mistake. “You want to be my boyfriend?” I clarify.
“Yes. Great.”
Remembering other things Matilda has warned me about, I ask, “You want to have sex with me—withonlyme?”
That dark, intense look comes over his face again, sending another shiver coursing through me. “Yes,” he grinds out, like it’s taking great effort for him to stop himself there.
My eyes widen. My mind searches for the loophole, whatever obvious thing I might be missing. “Are you sure you aren’t just saying that because I’m naked?” I blurt out.
“I can’t say it’s not a good motivation.” His eyes sweep over me again, and he swallows. “But it’s not the only factor.”
I can see from that wolfish look in his eyes that he’s getting ready to do something naughty to me again. And I can tell from the pressure already building in my core that I’m going to let him.
Again, nervously, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “It doesn’t really seem fair that I’m the only naked one around here.”That I’m completely at your mercy, and I already know I’m going to do whatever you want me to do.
Something glints in Thad’s eye. To my surprise, and chagrin, he steps back from me. “Okay.”
Shoot. Whatever stupid thing I said without thinking, he’s changed his mind about whatever naughty thing he was going to do. It’s kind of what I wanted, but also—I realize now that it’s happening—definitelynotwhat I wanted. Stupid, inexperienced virgin!
I make an inadvertent sound of protest, but Thad surprises me by grinning as he takes another step back.
Then he reaches for his shirt.
I watch, wide-eyed, as he undoes each button. Somewhere, in a distant, logical corner of my mind, I’m aware that he could easily just pull the shirt off in one go, but he’s intentionally taking his time. Teasing me. Watching my reaction as he slowly reveals more and more skin.
At last he reaches the final button, lingering a moment before he pulls the shirt off altogether. I suck in a sharp, unintentional breath—trying, in vain, to keep my eyes on his face, though they’re pulled like magnets to his newly exposed skin.
But he isn’t done yet. I watch the muscles of his arms and torso move and contract as he takes off his shoes, his socks, then works to undo his belt, pulling it off. Finally, smirking at something in my expression, he reaches for his pants and boxer briefs and shucks them off in one go, tossing them down on the deck with my discarded bathing suit.
I stare at him, speechless. He is completely and totally naked, without even a skimpy fishnet covering his skin, however inadequately. The sight of him is a shock to my system, so overwhelming I don’t know where to look. Everything about him is big and solid and—his penis. I can’t stop myself from looking at it now that it’s unleashed. I can’t believe that thing is supposed to fit inside of me. Just like everything else about him, it looks big and masculine and a little dangerous, in a way that makes me feel weak-kneed and nervous and aroused all at once in an experience that is completely, wholly new.
Some of this must read on my face, because Thad’s face softens, just a little. He still has that intensity in his expression, but it no longer feels challenging or defiant. “Relax,” he tells me. “We’re not goingthere, not right now. I don’t have a condom with me. And even if I did—we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever.”
I feel too shy to tell him Idowant to do all the things. But I’m also a little relieved to know it doesn’t have to be right now, all at once. We can take our time. Savor things.
“I want to touch it,” I blurt out, my eyes dropping down to his erection.
So much for being one of his cool, sexy femme fatales. My dumb brain is short-circuiting, being next to a naked man, andthisnaked man in particular. I’m frankly surprised that I’m still able to put together coherent sentences.
Thad’s gaze darkens. “Helen,” he growls at me, almost warningly.
I tilt my head to the side, genuinely curious. “You don’t want me to touch you?”
His eyes fall shut a moment before he seems to force them back open through sheer willpower. “I do, but…I won’t be able to focus on anything else once we start down that road. And I have plans for you.” His eyes flicker down to my pussy, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was talking directly to it. The thought should be ridiculous, but instead it sends a jolt of want straight through me.
