“It’s terrifying when something like that happens to someone you’ve always thought of as invincible,” she said. “This past spring, my dad had a heart attack, and it came as a huge shock to Freedom and me. It’s one thing to know your dad’s in his early seventies, but it’s another to realize what that means in terms of health and mortality.”
“He’s okay now?”
She nodded. “He is, and Mom’s been watching him like a hawk. She hasn’t really said much to me about how worried she was, but she seems a lot more aware of the nine-year age difference between the two of them than she had before.”
The numbers caught up to me, and the surprise must’ve registered on my face because it prompted a question.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Just surprised at how much older your parents are than mine. Da doesn’t turn sixty until next August, and Mom’s five years younger than him.”
“They had a hard time getting pregnant,” Aline said. “Hard enough that they decided to use a surrogate. Mom was thirty-eight when Freedom was born. A few years later, they’d just started talking about adopting when, surprise, Mom gets pregnant with me.” She gave a soft smile. “I was their miracle baby, and it wasn’t an easy pregnancy. Six weeks early and both of us could’ve died.”
And now I understood her family’s overprotectiveness much better. The death of my mother and of Mom’s first husband had made both Da and Mom worry a little more than a lot of parents would, and a couple of us had gotten in some dangerous situations, but I couldn’t imagine going through what the Merciers had gone through.
“Do you mind if I ask about your family?”
“Not at all.” I smiled. “But most people have to take notes because it can get a little confusing.”
We spent the rest of the meal swapping stories about our families. Even though we’d both been born into money, we’d had very different experiences growing up. A few times, I wondered if it was a good idea, having this sort of conversation when she was at odds with her family, but except for a little wistfulness I caught once in a while, she didn’t steer us away from the subject.
The time flew by, and before I knew it, we were in my car, heading back to the apartment she shared with Martina. I wasn’t about to just drop her off in front of the building, so I pulled into the lot and found a space to park.
Before I could do anything more than reach for my seatbelt, Aline was reaching for me, her hands going around the back of my neck as she pulled me to her for a kiss.
I let her have control for several seconds, just enjoying the feel of her mouth against mine, but then I took over.
My hands in her hair, sliding down her back. The soft skin just above the waist of her pants. Lips parted, and tongues touched, explored. Territory that was familiar but still exciting.
Blood rushed south as I grabbed her waist and pulled her onto my lap. I groaned as she settled with a leg on either side, core pressing down on my rock-hard erection. The eager little noises she made as she rocked against me had me desperate with the need for more.
I caught her bottom lip between my teeth, lightly tugging on it, and then I slid my hands under her shirt, the heat of her skin sending a wave of warmth through my entire body. I’d never wanted a woman the way I wanted her, and though it would take some maneuvering, I knew I could be inside her within a minute. That wet heat squeezing my dick until I exploded.
The thought came to me then that I was the only man to know what it felt like to have her like that, and something sparked deep in me. Not jealousy, exactly, but the desire to keep things that way. Me not just being her first, but her only.
My mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and down her throat. She tossed her head back, and I kissed my way down her neck, pausing to worry at the skin over her collarbone, fighting the urge to mark her, claim her as mine. I hadn’t earned that right.
Yet.
It was that thought that stopped me, had me pulling my hands from under her shirt. Her fingers were between us, on the button to my pants, and I caught her wrists.
“You don’t want…” Her words trailed off, and the flush in her cheeks deepened.
“I want,” I assured her. “Fuck, Aline, I want so much.”
“But?” The word was cautious, as if she was waiting to hear my answer before she reacted.
“But as much as I want you, I want to do this right.” I closed my eyes, hardly believing what I was going to say. “I think we should take it a little slower this time.”
I waited for her response, heart thudding against my ribcage.
“Not because that’s what everyone else would say?”
I opened my eyes and shook my head, relieved at her question. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone else says or thinks. This is between you and me.”
She put her hand under my chin and lifted until I had no choice but to see her. “Good answer.”
She brushed her lips across mine, a kiss far more chaste than the others we’d shared, and then climbed back into her seat.
“Give me a second, and I’ll walk you up,” I said. “Don’t need anyone calling the cops on me for public indecency.”
When she gave me a puzzled look, I gestured toward the tent in my pants. A new rush of color flooded her cheeks, tempting me to take back what I’d said just so I could try to make all of her turn that pretty shade of red.
I kept my head on straight, though. I really did want this to work.
Six
Aline
The moment I walked into the apartment, Martina was there, demanding to hear all about my date. It wasn’t late, so we shared a pint of fudge ripple ice cream, and I filled her in on everything – though I did cut back on the details of the make-out session.
I wanted to be alone when I finally let myself think about that, which meant it wasn’t until I stepped into the shower that I allowed myself to recall each delicious moment of my night, from the delight in Eoin’s eyes when I’d agreed to go out with him, all the way up to the light kiss he’d given me outside the door to the apartment.
Once I reached the end of my trip down recent memory lane, I was back to being as worked up as I had been when I’d first gotten out of the car. My entire body was humming with unfulfilled desire. It was strange. I’d gone through adolescence without sex and never felt like I’d missed out. I hadn’t regretted the times I’d turned down dates, ignored romantic possibilities.
Now, I craved that physical contact. Sex. With Eoin. When I’d kissed him, that had been where I’d seen things going. To bed. With him. Again.
Was this normal? I knew there were men who didn’t want to be a girl’s first because they feared she’d misconstrue pleasure for love. I’d always believed that if I went into all sexual experiences without expectation of any connection beyond the physical, I wouldn’t fall into that trap. Now, I was starting to wonder if the stereotype of the clingy virgin had some scientific basis. Would another man have made me feel the same way if he’d been my first?
Or was it just Eoin?
I could picture him, every inch of that amazing body of his, and not just how he looked either. I could recall the texture of the hair on his legs, the thin trail down his torso. I knew the lines that defined his muscles and the scars that were as much a part of him as everything else.