Page 12 of Bean
“Thank you.” I only now realized he’d taken his shirt off as well. That meant I should also say something nice. The good news was that it wouldn’t be hard. He wasn’t as muscled as I was, but I loved his round curves and his black-and-silver chest hair that made him look distinguished. “I like your body as well.”
Had that come out right? I really needed to do some more research into flirting. Though fat lotta good that would do me when I wouldn’t be able to remember anything without looking in my little book.
His smile widened. “I’m glad to hear it. Wanna move this to the bedroom?”
“Yes.” For once, I had no trouble answering. Easy question.
“Good.”
When he stepped back, I grabbed his hand. “Am I doing it right so far?”
I hated to be so insecure, but I’d rather that than mess it up to the point where he kicked me out.
He moved in closer again and kissed me gently. “Very right.”
“Yeah?” Joy bloomed inside me.
He took my hand and slowly placed it on his…
He was hard. His penis. Very, very hard. Iron pipe hard.
And I had done that to him.
Son of a nutcracker, I could do this.
CHAPTER FOUR
JAREK
I didn’t know how I’d gone from wallowing in the misery of being fired and divorced to getting my hands on one of the most adorable men I’d seen in a long time, but I was willing to reconsider my doubt about whether or not there was a God because…oh mygod.
Merrill—Bean, as he liked to be called—was like putty in my hands. He melted at the first kiss, shuddered at the first touch, and groaned softly the moment my lips pressed against his skin.It was like somehow I was the best thing that had happened to him that night, and that went right to my head.And my dick.
He ran his fingers through my chest hair like he’d never touched a man before, and then I realized it was because he hadn’t. He had never been with a man before. It wasn’t my first experience with someone like him, but I hadn’t expected to find someone so inexperienced who was interested in hooking up with me at my age.
Bean trembled like a leaf as I backed him toward the bedroom door. We stopped beside the wall, and I touched his chin, making him look up at me. “Hi.”
He swallowed heavily. “Hey.”
“I know you said you wanted this, but I’m starting to wonder if maybe this is going too fast.”
He got a sudden, almost angry look in his eyes. “I’m not a child.”
“Hey, that’s not what I?—”
“I know what I want. I said what I want.”
I took a breath. It had been a while since I’d had to coach anyone through their first time. I touched his side and let out a sigh of relief when he arched into me instead of going tense. My fingers traced over black ink.
“Matthew 5:9…” My brows furrowed. It had been a long time since I’d been anywhere near church, swearing off the whole idea of religion when I was an angry teen watching the world blame gays like me for the crisis sweeping the nation. But something in it triggered an old memory. “Blessed are…are…”
“The peacemakers,” Bean said very softly. He was staring down at where my fingers were tracing the tattoo.
I cupped his cheek, urging him to look up at me. “Is that how you see yourself?”
“That’s how I try to be.”
He bit his lower lip and his brow furrowed as he studied my face. There was a novel written on his own, but I couldn’t understand the words yet—and it was likely I’d never get the chance. This was a one-time thing. I didn’t have room in my life for more.