Page 18 of Conflict
I’M PRACTICALLYfloating into the kitchen the next morning. If it weren’t for the ache between my legs, I’d probably be skipping. I’d heard about the post-coital soreness after a girl loses her virginity, and for some reason, I never bought that it was welcome.
Boy was I wrong. It’s so, so welcome. With each step, I’m reminded of what happened last night. If the grin on my face grows any wider, I’m going to scare small children.
In the whirlwind of what happened with Shane, I hadn’t had time to truly think about what I was doing. I was in the moment, but now? It’s all I can think about.
I remember when Lexi told me about losing her V-card to Jace, her now husband. It was on this very beach when they were in high school. Her eyes were dreamy and far off when she told the story, and when she said that she’d barely felt any pain because of the way Jace took care of her, I didn’t believe it.
Sarah, my closest friend for nearly all of my childhood until she abandoned Atlanta for life in Sin City post-college, practically scared me off of penises when Jake Mahone tore her hymen and her uterus and left her with what felt like internal bleeding for days. Her words, not mine.
“Big is sooooo not better,” she warned.
At the time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh, run away, or buy a dildo to stretch myself out. Except, when I recommended that to her, the horrified look on her face told me more than I needed to know. Ah, Sarah. The reason I even know how to do a Kegel.
Fortunately for me, Lexi’s story proved correct. With the right man and the proper foreplay, everything can—and should—feel good. Sure, it was a tight fit and I had to fight the urge to brace my hands on his stomach as he thrust into me. It was still worth every single second, every single twinge of pain.
I just hope I’m not too sore for a repeat of tonight.
I also hope there’s an opportunity for a repeat.
Shane’s words from this morning reverberate through my brain and I can’t help my smile as I replay our exchange.
“You’re mine,” he growled. How is it that I’ve never noticed how sexy a growl was until now?
“For the week?” I asked before biting my bottom lip.
He leaned down, flicking his tongue across my skin until I released my lip. He sucked it, pulling it into his mouth, which sent shivers shooting to the tips of my toes. When he pulled away, blue eyes pierced my own.
“We’ll see.”
Two words I’ve been worrying over since he said them. Does that meansure, for the entire week, oruntil I get tired of you? Or could it meansure, except I might be so into you I won’t be able to let you go in a week?
I’m overthinking this, which is pretty much what I do. So, instead of dwelling, I decide I’ll be happy with whatever this week brings and set about my day.
Shane left my bed this morning with a kiss and a promise to take me on a real date once he got off his shift. Since Ariana bailed, I have no plans other than lounging in the sun. I take way too long trying to figure out which of three suits I should wear, finally settling on a sexy little one piece. It’s red and sheer in the abdomen area, and it dips nearly to my ass in the back. The built-in underwire gives my boobs an extra bit of perkiness. Sure, I have to slip on a jacket because it’s still winter, even in Florida, but it just makes the look that much sexier.
My long, brown hair is still messy from a night spent rolling around in the bed. So I pick up my brush, but then I think better of it. I want Shane to see me and be reminded of what we did last night. I want him to see my hair and think of the way he fisted it while his cock was in my mouth.
God, I just want him. Again and again and again.
Before I start salivating at the memory, I force myself to leave the bedroom. On my way out of the condo, I grab a beer from the fridge—hey, it’s vacation. Drinking beer on the beach at nine a.m. is basically a must.
My toes tap impatiently as the elevator descends to the first floor, taking its damned sweet time. Hello, mechanical contraption. I have a man to ogle beneath my sunglasses.
The sound of the door chiming sends my heart racing. I don’t know why. It’s not like the guy hasn’t seen me naked. Or, ya know, been inside me while I screamed his name. I think I’m feeling the beginning stages of infatuation. It’s been so long that I’d forgotten how giddy a girl can be in the beginning of a relationship—or, well, whatever this is.
I’m disappointed when I don’t find him in the lobby, even though I should’ve known better. He told me I probably wouldn’t see much of him, and apparently, he was right. Instead of sulking like I want to do, I spend the day lounging on the beach, alternating between reading, napping, and just enjoying the sun, the sand, and the sound of the waves. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sit up and glance around, hoping to catch a peek of him, but I never do.
When I get back to my condo, I’m giddy to see that someone’s slipped a note under my door.
Be ready to be wooed at five o’clock.
-Shane
P.S. I could hardly take my eyes off you today. How’s a man supposed to get any work done when you’re looking so damn gorgeous?
My heart skips a beat, and I rush to my purse, placing the note in my wallet for safe keeping. And tons of rereading, of course.
At approximately five, there’s a knock on my door. I check my hair, my lips, my breath, and my teeth, discovering that all’s in order for our first date. It feels a little silly to be so nervous about the first date with a man I’ve already slept with, but I can’t help it.
