“Yeah,” I said, though I didn’t understand his surprise. It looked like a secluded area where we could make out. And, right now, that was exactly what I wanted.
He shrugged one shoulder. “All right.”
I’d seen other people wandering down this hallway, and I’d figured they also wanted some privacy, but I was not prepared for what I found.
“Oh!” I squeaked.
Penn laughed. “What did you think you’d find?”
“I don’t know.”
But not sex rooms or a mirrored room to share or, god, a fetish room. I’d seen my fair share of porn. I wasn’t completely innocent just because I’d never had sex. But that didn’t mean I’d seen any of it in person.
My face was as red as a rose, and I couldn’t stop the embarrassment that coursed through me. Penn thought that this was what I wanted. He’d gone along with it. And yet…I couldn’t deny the appeal of this. How turned on I was getting from being in this room.
I swallowed and kept watching for a second longer. Then, my gaze swept back up to Penn’s. He was staring down at me with a hungry, amused look on his face.
He stepped forward, pressing my back into the darkened alcove that nearly hid us from the rest of the people having fun. His stubble scratched across my cheek as he leaned in to whisper in my ear, “You like this?”
“I…” I hesitated. “Maybe.”
“And I thought, you weren’t ready for the real treats from the Candy Room.”
I tilted my head back and stared up at him. I didn’t want him to think that I wasn’t interested in him. I was. I was interested in all of this in a way that I’d never vocalized. That I’d never thought anyone else would be into. It had always felt shameful until Penn’s intrigued and satisfied look.
“What if I am?”
“I wish that you had approached me earlier this summer,” he said frankly.
A thrill ran through me. “Me too.”
His hand tangled in my blonde hair. My breathing was uneven as he leaned closer to me. His movements unhurried but confident. Then, his lips were on mine, and everything short-circuited.
What had been a frenzied kiss earlier that evening turned into something passionate. As if the hours that we had spent together changed everything. Now, it wasn’t just a serendipitous, spontaneous kiss with a stranger. It was heated and laced with tension that had been building all night.
His finger skimmed the hem of my dress, and a shiver went down my spine. He was asking permission. I knew that, if I wanted to stop, then this was the moment. This was when I could say no and walk away from all of this. But not a single part of my body wanted that.
Then his hand slipped under my dress. I gasped against his lips, and he moved to kiss his way down my neck. I tilted my head back, and he slid up my sensitive inner thigh to the edge of my panties.
“Oh god,” I groaned as he ran a finger down the lace hem.
Lower, lower, lower. Then, over that most sensitive area. Even through the lace of my thong, my entire body jerked at his touch. I was so turned on between him and this room and the club and Paris. Just everything was super-heating my body.
“Can I?” he asked, looping a finger under the fabric and waiting for my answer.
I whimpered in response. He took that to mean yes and pushed my panties aside. Then, he stroked one finger down the center of me. I shivered all over. My head smacked into the wall, and I didn’t even care.
A finger slipped up between my folds and inside me.
“Oh!” I gasped.
“You’re so wet,” he said with pleasure into my ear before adding another finger.
“Ye-yes.”
My eyes slid shut as he started moving inside me. In and out and then in again. Pumping into me with the ease of a practiced hand. His thumb moved to stroke my clit, which made me shake all over.
I’d gotten off like this myself but never from a guy. Apparently, I’d never met anyone who knew what they were doing because fuck. Just…fuck.
Everything was building, building, building. My skin was on fire. A million nerve endings on fire all at once. A flush suffused my whole body. And, still, he didn’t stop as he worked my body into a frenzy. As he held me against that wall where anyone could just look in and see what he was doing to me. And, somehow, that just turned me on more.
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god,” I moaned as I felt everything coming to a head.
“Come for me,” he growled into my ear.
And that was the moment I saw stars. We were inside, and I was seeing the Paris night sky. My walls pulsed hungrily around his fingers. Euphoria rocketed through me. Everything went fuzzy and warm.
“We should leave,” Penn said.
“Uh-huh.”
“Come home with me.”
“I…”
I had no words. I was still coming down from the throes of the best orgasm of my life, and I never even had sex before. What would it be like to give in and just…be with him?
“Natalie,” he said, his voice earnest, “will you come to my place?”
In that moment, we were inevitable.
“Yes.”
Chapter 8
“Wine?” Penn asked when we got to his place.
I gulped and then nodded. “Sounds great.”
Everything had been well and good when we were back at the club, but now, I was wondering what the hell I was doing here. He lived in the building three down from mine. We’d been this close all summer. And now, I was here. In his flat. Anxiety warred with fear.
Did I tell him?
It wasn’t like I paraded around the fact that I was a virgin. It wasn’t a prime conversation starter. Amy knew, obviously. But I didn’t share the information, and I didn’t know how to say it now. It wasn’t like I could just come out and be like, Hey, P.S., I’m a virgin!
He didn’t even know that I was only eighteen and here with Amy the summer after graduation. These were things I normally thought that I’d share with the guy who was my first. And yet, here I was, with an almost stranger who seemed to know my very soul yet didn’t know my age or even my last name.
Man, I was psyching myself out.
“Hey,” Penn said, offering me a wine glass. “Everything all right?”
I took the glass from him and had a long sip. “A little…nervous, to be honest.”
“Don’t be nervous,” he said with a soft laugh. He offered me his hand and helped me to my feet.
“I just…” I stumbled over the words I wanted to say. To tell him the truth. And yet, they didn’t come.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” He took my hand. “Just come with me.”
He guided me out of the living room, down a hallway, past the elevator service we’d used to reach the top floor, and to a closed door at the end of the hall. He opened the door and turned on a lamp, revealing what was clearly his bedroom. It was decorated in neutral white and blues with a king-size bed taking up much of the space aside from a desk that was littered with papers. His notebook was on top of a pile of books on the nightstand. Otherwise, it was spotless. Unlike the bedroom I had been living in all summer long.
“I love your place.” I took another big swallow of wine and then stepped inside.