Chapter Fifteen
O h.
My face flames hot, first with embarrassment, then with pleasure.
Because obviously that’s what they would do. I feel foolish, now, thinking it was for something as stupid as money or whiskey or any kind of trinket. Naive for not realizing—uh, duh—that’s what they were whispering about.
But I’m not embarrassed to be their prize.
If anything, I’m...kind of flattered.
Intrigued.
“It really is very middle school,” Will comments. “Seven minutes in heaven? What’s next, a round of spin the bottle?”
“Pucker up, motherfucker.” LJ shoulder-checks him with the barest hint of a grin, and throws one parting look at Tuck as he heads for the stairs. “What she says goes. You put one toe out of line and I’ll cut your balls off.”
Rob widens his eyes as LJ leaves, with Will trailing behind. “Well, Tuck.” Rob sighs exaggeratedly and claps him on the shoulder. “Couldn’t have happened to a better man. But, uh, yes. Maren, your consent here is paramount. So—”
“Of course,” I say, feeling Tuck’s energy radiating like a forcefield and sharing his desperation for us to be alone.
“Good.” Rob nods, spreads his hands in a bow, and winks. “I take my leave.”
His footsteps fade, leaving just me and the sweetest, most nervous-looking man I think I’ve ever seen.
I cock my head at him from the pool table, like I’m seeing him for the first time. Trying to be a little flirty.
“Is that a stack of poker chips in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?”
“I...” Tuck blushes, glances down at the front of his jeans.
“I’m just kidding,” I say. “Congratulations, though.”
“Hah. Thanks.” He presses his lips together. “It wasn’t my idea, by the way. To make you the, um...”
“Jackpot?” I grin.
Tuck winces. “I mean, not in so many words, but...”
“It’s fine.” I swipe at the air, smile at him. “I’ve never played Seven Minutes in Heaven. Is there a timer involved?”
“I...” Tuck frowns, like he’s really wondering.
“Tuck!” I laugh. “I’m kidding. Relax,” I add softly, because it seems like he needs to be told.
“Okay. Sure,” he says, clearly not relaxing. “Um, so, did you pick up any of the rules of poker just now, or...” He catches a glimpse of the look on my face and trails off. “Oh. I guess we don’t really have to...talk about poker.”
I nod. “I think that’s sort of a moot point now.”
“Yeah.” He rocks to the balls of his feet, and I’m starting to wonder what the holdup is when he speaks again. “I don’t suppose...God, this is weird.” He looks at the ceiling, then back down. “I mean, could I ask you for a kiss, Maren?” He no sooner asks than swiftly shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. I never should’ve let them talk me into it. I just had stuff to drink and—”
Before he’s finished his sentence, I’m off the table and pressing a kiss to his mouth.
He hesitates, at first, then relaxes into it, his lips warm and eager, his hands finding my waist and small of my back. The brief brush of his skin on mine when he skims the hem of my top is like a lightning bolt straight to the center of me, and I pull him deeper, instinctively, both wanting more of the kiss and wanting what’s next, what else he can do to me...
...when he pulls away.
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking alarmed. “I’m...ah, Jesus.” He pulls back, fists a hand in his hair.
I frown, trying to calm my body back to baseline. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Tuck says, not meeting my eyes. “I mean...” His eyes widen. “Oh, no, not you, Maren. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. It’s just...I mean, I want to do whatever you want, but um. I’m...” He blows out a breath, stares at the ceiling again.
“I’ve never done this before?”
He says it like it’s a question.
“Kissed me?” I say, laughing. “Tuck, you were the first one here to kiss me. Don’t think I forgot.”
“No,” Tuck says, tilting his head to the side. “I definitely haven’t, trust me. I mean...the other part. The...” He sucks in a breath. “I’ve never had sex before,” he blurts out.
No sooner are the words out than Tuck’s face goes brilliantly pink. It takes me a moment longer to process.
Oh.
Well, that explains a little more.
“So you’re a virgin?” I ask. Because based on what I’ve seen from him—what he’s done to me—this is not a man with no experience.
“Not in a...” he insists, then restarts. “I’ve done plenty of...stuff. I’m not totally, you know.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Inexperienced. Or whatever. But if we’re being technical...” Tuck chews his lip. “Then...okay, yeah.” He sighs, slumps, folds his arms.
That explains the rest of it. The teasing from the others. Their little jokes as they left us alone. I want to roll my eyes if it wouldn’t come off rude in context here. Masculine bonding bullshit, I think. I’m sure they meant it lovingly, as lovingly as guys get with each other, but still. Give the guy a break.
“Hey, hey, hey.” I sidle up to him, thread my hand into his, and pull myself up so I’m whispering in his ear. “I don’t care. I think it’s sweet.”
His cheeks flush, if possible, even redder.
“Yeah,” he mumbles back. “Thanks. I just...you know, high school I was kind of a dork, and then college I was so busy, and then I ended up here after like a year anyway so I didn’t...” He swallows. “Get out much. Or something.”
“It’s fine,” I say, stepping back a little. “You don’t need to explain to me. I get it.”
“Right,” Tuck says, fidgeting with his hands. “But you’re...I mean you’re not. Haven’t been. So...”
That much is true, I guess. An otherwise forgettable incident with a guy named Carson at the one and only party I ever attended in high school. In hindsight, I probably only liked him because he literally had car in his name.
“Not that I’d ever judge you,” Tuck says quickly, and holds me at arm’s length. “That’s not what I—”
“Aw, Tuck.” I pull back and stroke his cheek. I can’t help it—he looks so sweet and shy.
“I just mean you don’t...” he half-protests, mumbling into my fingers as he presses my hand to his face in spite of himself. “You don’t have to pity me. I’m sure it’ll be, you know. Awkward and weird and...” He hesitates, and I hold still, hold my breath, for a beat. “You know. Not like you’ve had around here. With the rest of them.”
As he says it, his body slackens a little, like he’s finally admitted something.
And it’s all I can do not to melt.
Gentle, kind, Tuck, the nerdy sweetheart with a gift in the kitchen who doesn’t seem to realize he’s in the body of a Greek God—of course he’d be harboring some self-consciousness, especially as a virgin. Especially around these guys.
No, he’s not a swaggering gentleman like Rob or a smooth charmer like Will or a...wall of muscle and barely contained aggression like LJ. But he’s himself, warm and giving and attentive, and right now, that’s all I want.
Plus, he knows his way around a woman’s body, whether he realizes it or not.
“Look, Maren, you don’t have to humor me. Or any of them,” Tuck hurries on. “We can just call it a night and...”
He trails off, his eyes drifting to me.
And the want in them is unmistakable, virgin or no.
“I don’t really want to,” I interrupt gently. “Call it a night yet, that is. If that’s okay.”
Tuck nods.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” I go on. “But maybe we can just...try some things.”
With that, I throw my arms around his neck—a simple, grounding hug. And God bless him, but his hearts pounding a thousand beats a minute.
“Yeah,” he murmurs into my hair. “Okay.”
It’s an easy hug, an affectionate one at most. But his hands still tighten around my lower back, with an unmistakable force to them.
He wants me. And I can’t deny that alone turns me on—the sincerity of it, the clear desire to make it worth my while.
But I also kind of want to...prove a point, I realize, my pulse beating hard in my neck.
Is that crazy? I wonder. Petty? Sick?
Whatever.
“You know, Tuck,” I say slowly, pulling back just a few inches. “You were my first, in a big way.”
“Oh yeah?” Tuck says, his voice cracking just a little.
“Mm.” I nod. “First person to make me, ah...” I tip my head to the side. “Finish. Who wasn’t me,” I clarify.
Tuck has to fight back a smile. “Really?”
“Really,” I say. “You know how much I’ve thought about what you can do with that mouth?”
I brush a finger over his lips for good measure, watching as they spread in a smile.
“I’m...glad to hear it,” he says. His grip on my waist gets firmer, more urgent.
“I’m just saying,” I go on. “If you can manage even half of what you did for me that night...” I trail off, looking up towards the ceiling, wondering. “This house isn’t this big, is it?”
Confusion flickers over his features. “What?” He looks up, narrowing his eyes, like he doesn’t see what I’m seeing. “No, not terribly.”
“You can hear what’s going on down here upstairs, I’m sure.”
Tuck lowers his gaze down to meet mine again, realization dawning. He smiles, a smaller, hungrier smile this time. “Probably,” he says.
I nod. “Good.” I press myself into him. “Because I think, Tuck, that you’re probably a quick fucking study. And I suspect you can get the hang of this very easily.” I look up at him. “Wanna give it a try?”
He bobs his head up and down. “Yes.”
I grin. “Good.”
I move to pull him towards me, but Tuck beats me too it. With surprising force, he crushes my mouth to his, probing, then taking, his hands sure and strong against my back even as I feel a slight tremor in his fingers. I kiss him back, hungrily, my jeans already too tight and too restricting for what I want from him.
I break us apart, glance over my shoulder. “Table.”
Tuck’s eyes widen. “Really?”
My patience flickers. “Now.”
He nods again, a few times. “Yes. Right.” With easy, fluid strength, he lifts me to the edge, and I waste no time with the zipper of my jeans, shimmying them down my hips so I’m ready.
Tuck takes a breath, then steps forward, against me, and pushes the hem of my shirt up, just a few inches. The tip of his thumb grazes the lower part of my belly and I let out a small sound, deep in my throat, sending his gaze jumping back to mine.
A slow grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, and his smile gets wider.
I shiver. I like where this is going.
He runs his hands up and down the skin over my ribs, pushing my shirt a bit higher each time. When he reaches the bottom edge of my bra, he hesitates.
“Here,” I say, and sit up, grab the hem of my top, and shuck it off. Sue me, I’m impatient. “Now you.”
“O-okay.”
He takes a few steps back and strips, pulling his polo shirt over his head, revealing a broad, toned chest, a taut stomach, and a light sprinkling of hair. He unbuttons his jeans and yanks them off, stepping out of his shoes and socks, and then his boxers.
And...well.
Tuck’s cock is long and thick and flushed with color, his tip glistening with arousal.
“God, Tuck,” I murmur.
“You like that?” he says. He’s getting bolder.
And I do like it.
“Yeah, I do.”
Tuck gives a quick nod, and steps closer to me. He looks uncertain for a moment, so I take his hand.
“Where do you want to touch me?” I ask.
“I...” He swallows. “Wherever you want.”
I scoot just a little closer, lower my voice. “I’m soaking through my panties, Tuck. Anywhere you touch me will be more than good.” I pull back, relishing the astonished look on his face. “What do you think about when you imagine me?”
Tuck licks his lips.
“Your tits,” he whispers. “These...”
“Here.” I grab his hands, curve them into my bra, against my skin, and he lets out a low hiss.
“God,” he grits out. “You...” He ducks his head, then stops. “Can I...”
“Do it.” I almost gasp it, strung out on the way he brushes his thumb over my flesh as he pushes my bra up and away.. “Please.”
Tuck nods, and leans forward, taking my nipple into his hot, eager mouth and sucking so hard I let out a yelp.
He pulls back. “Are you—”
“Good,” I pant. “God, you’re good.”
Tuck beams.
“You’re beautiful,” he tells me, and bends down to kiss me. His hands slide up my legs, over the tops of my thighs, to the creases where my legs meet my hips.
He pulls away from the kiss, and moves his hands inward, deeper. Achingly slowly, his fingertips brush against my clit, and my breath hitches. He’s so gentle, but his touch is firm and steady all the same.
“Good, Tuck,” I murmur. “That’s so good.”
His fingertips slip inside, and I can’t hold back the gasp as he pushes in, deeper and faster than I expected.
“I need you,” Tuck tells me, holding me in place with a trembling arm. “I need this. Can I—”
“Yes.” I reach for him, pull him to me, spread my legs wider, inviting him in.
Tuck takes a breath, and then presses into me.
“ Unh. ” I clutch his shoulder, tensing briefly around the length of him.
“Shit,” he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Are you—”
I shake my head, shifting my hips so he stretches me even further, fills me fully. “P...” I shudder. “Perfect,” I manager, at last. I glance up to him, feeling drunk, hazy with the feeling of him filling me. “Feel good, Tuck?”
“Feels...” He groans. “Amazing. You feel amazing.”
“Move, now,” I whisper into his ear. “In and out.”
Tuck’s face is screwed up in pleasure, his body shaking, his chest flushed. He starts thrusting, his body moving faster and faster, his cock going deeper and deeper. Every slick stroke fills me further, and when his hand finds my clit again, a sharp cry looses itself from my throat.
“Maren,” he chokes. “I’m...I’m gonna...”
So close. Already. The thought alone nearly sends me over the edge. I fling my hands back on the table, arch my back toward him just to slow myself, hold back the friction.
“I can’t...” He sucks in a breath. “I’m gonna have to...”
“Do it, Tuck,” I pant, digging in my fingernails, barely clinging. “Don’t...ah!” The shriek surprises me, rings against the walls of the room.
“Don’t,” I breathe, “hold back.”
Tuck nods, and groans, and he comes, comes hard, pulsing and hot inside me, hands tight on my hips as he drives himself deep, and the feel of it, his pleasure, his need, pushes me over the edge. I let go, feel myself fist around him, again and again, desperate and tight against the hot length of his cock, and cry out.
Then the world returns. My body goes taut and then falls loose, a warm wave of satisfaction rushing over me.
Tuck breathes hard, still holding me, looking stunned, like he can’t believe his luck. He smells warm and sweet and familiar, and I lean forward, so my forehead’s pressed against his shoulder. We stay like that a moment, until suddenly we’re both laughing softly.
I pull myself back up, stare into his eyes. “You don’t think they heard, do you?”
“I, uh...” Tuck scratches the back of his head, glances at the ceiling. “I’d be surprised if they—”
Footsteps thunder down toward us, and suddenly the three others appear at the door, alarm on all their faces.
“What’s going on?” LJ barks. “Is Maren okay?”
“What?” I say, still a little dazed. The three of them seem to realize
“We heard...” Will lifts his eyebrows, pauses. “We thought she was having one of those episodes.”
“I...we...” Tuck stammers. Then frowns. “D’you mind, guys?”
“Guess not.” Rob smirks. “Well done there, Tuck. I have to say I’m impressed.”
“So everything’s okay,” LJ says, sweeping a glance around.
I giggle in spite of myself. “Yes,” I say. “Everything’s fine. Though you, um.” I glance back at the table, where I seem to have left claw marks deep in the felt behind me. “Might need a new pool table.”