Home > The Virgin Gift (The Gift #2)(26)

The Virgin Gift (The Gift #2)(26)
Author: Lauren Blakely

As instinct took over, I wrapped my legs around him, and he swiveled his hips, rocking deeper. Our bodies melted together; our sounds mirrored each other. As we moved like this, in perfect harmony, I ran my fingers up the taut muscles of his back, over his toned biceps, and across his neck. I was committing the feel of him under my fingertips to memory.

I’d want to recall this moment forever, I was sure.

My hands became my camera, snapping shot after shot of him through the lens of touch.

And as pleasure radiated through my cells, sweeping across every molecule, the enormity of my choice flashed before me like a neon sign.

The sheer magnitude of the real choice I’d made echoed relentlessly inside me. Not the one to give up something I’d held on to dearly for twenty-four years.

But the choice to have sex with my friend.

Because it wasn’t just sex anymore.

It wasn’t a list now.

I was no longer ticking boxes, because as he lowered his body to me, his elbows at my sides, his chest slick and hot against my breasts, his lips inches from mine, I knew.

That to me—this was making love.

Awareness flipped a switch in me, and my body tightened as impending bliss coiled inside me.

“Adam, I’m . . .”

I couldn’t finish.

There were no words.

I was there, flying over the cliff.

“Yes. Come for me, baby. Come for me now, Nina,” he urged, and I fell apart beneath him, shattering into a million beautiful pieces as pleasure, radiant pleasure, flooded my veins.

And he chased me there, thrusting and pounding, losing himself too. Calling my name, endlessly over and over, until he was quiet and all I heard was the pounding of our hearts, beating together wildly.

Dangerously.

I had fallen in love with him. I’d broken the rules of engagement, and I’d have to fix that and fix it fast.

The list.

Focus on the list.

 

 

20

 

 

Adam

 

 

I’d like to say that was unexpected.

The intensity. The passion. The soul-shattering intimacy.

But that’d be a lie.

I knew when I walked in here tonight that sex with Nina would be the most spectacular thing I’d ever experienced, and the hardest too.

Because how was I supposed to return to the way we were?

My chest ached for her. My mind wanted to engage with hers all the time. My arms longed to pull her into an embrace, and my mouth yearned to pepper sweet kisses over her cheeks, her eyelids, her hair.

That was the risk.

The risk we were supposed to avoid.

Hell, a mere twenty-four hours ago, we’d established the rules of engagement. They were crystal clear. The list. Os. Friendship.

Done.

That was it. That was all. We’d mutually agreed on the endpoint, and now we’d arrived at the moment when we were supposed to walk away.

In two nights, we’d worked through her whole list. My God, we were voracious, and the thought made me laugh unexpectedly.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, and it occurred to me this was the first thing either one of us had said post-sex.

And I was still inside her.

Yeah. Time to deal with that issue.

“I’ll tell you in a minute,” I said, easing out of her, then heading to her bathroom for a washcloth. After warming it up under the water, I returned and cleaned her up, then myself. I set the cloth in the hamper and returned to my gorgeous beauty, who radiated bliss.

She glowed from head to toe, and I wanted to kiss her all over, from her toes with their emerald-green polish to her thighs, all smooth and lovely, to the hollow of her throat.

I ran my fingers over that spot, the divot in her neck. Such a vulnerable place on the body. Pressing a gentle kiss there, I answered her, “What made me laugh is how big our appetites are.”

She chuckled beneath me. “Come to think of it, I haven’t had dinner.”

I raised my face, set a hand on her stomach. “My fault. I’ll need to rectify that soon with paninis, melting cheese, and fresh mushrooms.”

She let her tongue loll out like a dog.

“But what I meant was—we raced through your list, Nina.”

“My God, we were ravenous creatures, weren’t we?” she asked, and seemed to fix on a smile, her voice turning more chipper than I’d expected in this moment. “I was just thinking about the list too. How we plowed through it.”

“We get gold stars for speed of execution,” I said, wishing we weren’t talking about the list but rather what comes after it. Or what could come after.

She tapped my nose. “No, Adam. I should give you gold stars all around. You made my dirty dreams come true.”

The moment turned surreal.

Seconds ago, she’d been keening beneath me, breaking apart, calling my name.

And now that was all it had been.

A dirty dream.

A filthy fantasy.

Her list was a bucket list, a project to shed her virginity so she could focus again.

And here on the other side of her innocence, we’d resorted to what we’d always been.

Pals.

Joking.

Talking.

Having fun.

We weren’t sharing sweet nothings or whispering confessions of unexpected emotions.

Get it together, man.

Besides, how the hell was I going to tell her what I wanted? Did I even know? This Mack truck of feelings had slammed into me from out of nowhere, and I honestly wasn’t sure how to sort them out.

Or, at this point, if I should.

Maybe we were well and truly done, with number nine under our belt.

Best to focus on that.

“You were a model student,” I said with a grin, because now wasn’t the time to let on that I wanted more than her list.

Or the moment to tell her that tonight never felt like a checklist item for me.

Yes, sure, technically we’d achieved her mission.

But, in doing so, something else had unfolded for me.

Something that wasn’t on my list, or hers.

That was the trouble. Falling wasn’t on the agenda.

And I didn’t have a detailed plan for how to deal with it, how to broach it, or what the hell it would mean for us.

I focused on number nine instead, because it was easier. Running my fingers down her arm, I asked, “What did you think of number nine, sweet girl?”

Her lips curved up. “I’m ‘sweet girl’ now?”

I dotted a kiss on her nose. “You’re always sweet to me.” There, that was honest.

She ran her fingers through my hair, nibbled on her lip, then said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For doing that for me.”

My brow creased. She was thanking me? I didn’t want thanks. I wanted her. Moreover, I wanted her to want me the same damn way.

Not in a thank you for your service kind of way.

I needed to devise a plan, to figure this out.

But how was I going to figure it out this close to her, when I was inhaling her sweet smell, drinking in her intoxicating scent?

“You don’t have to thank me,” I said, and I didn’t know where I was going next, but I was going somewhere. “I wanted to do everything with you.”

“You did?” Her tone pitched up, rising with hope like it had earlier when she’d asked if I’d liked going down on her.

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