Page 16 of Finding Fate
“Is this your favorite band.”
“And then what happened?”
“We hit it off. Talked over the loud music until I couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to know more about you, so I asked if you wanted to go for a ride. I thought you’d say no.”
I smile as I pull his soaking wet shirt up his body, letting the memory play out in my mind. He finishes removing it when it gets to his armpits and throws it down. “Did I surprise you?”
He smiles. “Yes. We rode around for two hours talking. My heart was pounding. Sitting beside me was long blonde hair, eyes so brown they’re almost black, and an olive complexion that had clearly been darkened. You were beautiful. I was a nervous wreck. I chewed half a pack of gum because of it. I couldn’t believe I’d never met you before. I ran out of places to go, so I went to this little spot I knew of where cops wouldn’t get suspicious over us occupying a parked car. I wasn’t planning to try anything. I just wanted to talk to you in a way I didn’t have to concentrate on the road.”
“And when you killed the engine on the side of that old backroad, what’d I ask you?”
His dick gets harder beneath me. “Are you a virgin.”
“You stared at me.”
“I didn’t know what to say. I was caught off guard. I didn’t want you to think I brought you there for that by telling you no. But then you . . .” I remove my shirt—part of what I changed into before we boarded the plane. “Did that.”
“I felt it too. You were different. I knew just from talking to you that I wanted to experience everything you had to offer, even if I never saw you again. I wanted to give you my virginity. What’d I tell you?”
“Let’s own the night—four words that changed my life. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that girl was thirteen. You looked sixteen.”
“I didn’t want to ruin it with things that don’t matter. Age is just a number. Mental capacity is what varies from person to person. I was old enough to say yes to leaving that concert with you. I was completely aware of what I was agreeing to when I wanted to give you my virginity. No one forced me to continue having sex with you after the first time. No one made me fall in love with you. I just did. Everything between us was consensual. Show me what you did to me. Take me back to where it all started.”
“But I thought—”
“Don’t add things to my mind that aren’t there, Maddox.”
His hands start shaking. I stand up so that he can pull my shorts down. His hands wrap around the waistband, but he stalls. “I still make you nervous?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to lose you again.”
“Then fucking hold on.” He slowly works them down my legs until I step out, and then I return to my previous position, removing my bra. “Take me back to a time when things were simple.”
Our lips meet, our mouths twisting and tangling and moving about. I let his taste hypnotize me like it always has. The night is in my mind, and the second his hands start moving from my hips up my sides, we come alive. His lips glide down my neck, until his mouth meets the hand that is cupped around my breast and he wraps his lips around my nipple, letting his tongue flick back and forth. “Yes.”
The free hand travels south down my middle, until his thumb brushes over a place so private it makes me shiver. He looks at me, his green eyes telling. He likes touching me. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”
“No,” I whisper. “I want you to be my first.”
His breathing goes ragged as he presses his thumb against me, and then he starts to rub. I try to hold it in, but soft pants and moans spill from my lips. “Does it feel good?”
My bottom lip separates from my top, unable to answer, because something is happening to my body that no one has ever made me feel. I whimper, a slight nod occurring. I press my lips to his, greedy pulls and skims between us, and I just let myself feel through an experience I’ve never felt before.
I pull back as it ends, liking the way he’s looking at me, and surprisingly wanting more. “Do you want to do it?”
Any tension that was left in his body relaxes, and he says exactly as he said that night, only it comes out slightly different, and a little shaky. “Only if you want to.”
“Put it in.”
He unbuttons and unzips his wet cargo shorts and goes to lift to shove them down but stops. “I don’t have a condom here like . . .”
My mouth tilts. “A remake is never exactly like the original. Improvise.”
“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers, and then works the wet fabric down enough to bare his lap. The tear that runs down his face proves he gets what’s not being said here. He will pay for what he’s done enough without me adding to it in ways that don’t matter. There are other things I can do later that will have a bigger impact than withholding sex from him. Maddox is more about the possession and the emotional than the physical act. He isn’t like most guys. He has a way of punishing himself in harsher ways than anything I could punish him with.