18. Sadie
18
SADIE
“Is everything okay?” I study him in his white T-shirt and low-slung jeans, searching for clues as to what could bring him to my doorstep in the dark. And working hard at not letting my lady parts run rampant with the hope they have something to do with it.
“Everything’s fine, Sadie.”
“Is it Riva? Where is she?”
He flashes a smile. “She’s in bed. Sleeping, I hope.”
“What about your brother?”
“Watching an Adam Sandler movie in my basement. He’s a huge fan, apparently. I had no idea.”
Ian reaches out and touches the ends of my damp hair. “You’re also ready for bed.”
I only have the door open part way so the dogs can’t escape. He takes a step closer and bends to pat the three heads poking out in greeting.
“I was watching TV and talking to my sister.”
He nods. “How is she?”
I sigh, suddenly grateful for someone to share my worries with. “Stressed. Bradley is acting weird, and she’s nervous. Pre-wedding jitters, I guess, but I’d like to throat-punch her fiancé. He’s stressing her out.”
Ian inclines his head. “Bradley is an asshat.” His words are more fact than opinion.
“You aren’t wrong.”
I poke my head out and glance toward his house, because looking into his eyes for too long feels like staring at the sun. It leaves me disoriented and dizzy, like a hit of dopamine directly to my heart, but I know I could so easily be burned. “Did you come over just to hang out on my porch and chat in bare feet?”
He looks down and wiggles his toes. “I came over here to say when.”
When his gaze meets mine again, it’s changed. Gone is the teasing light, banked into a deeper, hotter flame. One that sends chills all up and down my body, even though I’m the opposite of cold.
“When, what?” I ask slowly. My mind can’t seem to process the meaning, hindered by my body’s reaction to him.
“Earlier at the club, you asked when we were going to have sex. That’s what I’m here for, to tell you that this is when.”
“Tonight?” I swallow.
“Is that a problem?”
I’m unable to answer for so long, he finally waves a hand in front of my face. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”
I manage a nod. “I’m not wearing good underwear.”
He laughs, then moves forward, crowding me like he’s in the habit of doing, until I step back into the house.
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your underwear.” He shuts the door with his foot, then takes a minute to greet the dogs to their satisfaction. He links our fingers together and lifts my hands above my head as he spins me until my back is against the wall. “All I’m thinking about is getting you out of them.”
He leans in and kisses my neck, edging my chin up for better access. Need rockets through me, but anxiety tamps it down before things spiral out of control.
Did I shave my legs tonight? Yes, praise the Lord. Although smooth skin doesn’t mean everything else will go smoothly.
But I’m committed. I want this. And more importantly, I want it with Ian.
“Sadie, are you still with me?”
Am I?
My body is all in, but I can’t shake the fear that my heart might be as well. It doesn’t change me wanting this. Wanting him. And not because of punching my V-card or some bucket list commitment I made. It’s because of Ian and me and this connection between us that can’t and won’t be denied.
I’m sick of letting fear about the consequences rule my life. I’m sick of letting fear, in general, have control over me.
I nod. “I want this.” Although the words are shaky, I don’t hesitate to speak them.
The relief in his eyes is the answer I need to know I’ve made the right decision.
Still holding my hands above my head with one hand, he trails his other over my breast. When my nipple hardens against the palm of his hand, a small moan rips from my throat.
“No bra,” he whispers, and I choke out a laugh.
“I wasn’t expecting company.” I wasn’t expecting any of this.
He reaches under the hem of my shirt, but I make a noise of protest. “The front curtains are open. We can’t do this here.”
Releasing my hands, he scoops me into his arms, but pauses at the base of the stairs.
“Will the dogs be okay on their own for a while?” His voice sounds rough, like his desire is causing him physical pain.
I suddenly find it hard to stop my heart from melting even further at the thoughtfulness of his question.
“The dogs are fine.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
He flashes a lopsided grin. “Thank fucking God.”
“I can walk,” I say, in case it’s not clear.
“I’ve been looking for an excuse to get my hands on your ass for weeks.” He keeps moving, taking the steps two at a time. “I’m not giving that up now.”
I want his hands everywhere, so much that it should be terrifying. Now that it’s happening, all I feel is desire. Except I’ve spoken too soon, because when he deposits me on the bed, those nerves take flight again.
I’ve never had anyone share my bed other than Piper, who had nightmares for months after Mom died. What do I do now? Do I get undressed or wait for him to handle it?
I start with the obvious. “The blinds…”
I gesture toward the window facing the house’s front, and he walks over and closes the wood slats.
“Not an exhibitionist, I take it.” That draws a laugh from me.
“I hope you’re not too disappointed.”
Ugh. Those words feel more significant than I want them to.
“Nothing about you could disappoint me,” he answers without hesitation, and I resist the urge to blurt, “Hold my beer,” like this is some kind of a joke.
“What about the lights?” I ask as he moves toward me again.
“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart, and I plan to memorize every inch of your body.”
I nearly choke as the breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh. The truth is, I’m planning the same thing. Because I have the distinct impression that being with Ian is going to ruin me for whatever and whoever comes next.
I pull down the sheets and try to quiet the voices in my head that still want to convince me I’m going to ruin everything with my inexperience and insecurity. Ian knows what he’s doing. I can trust that. I trust him, certainly more than I trust myself.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask when his knees bump the side of the bed.
He nods and takes his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, then tosses a foil packet on the nightstand. “And I’ve been tested,” he tells me. It takes me a minute to realize he’s not talking about his charcuterie making skills.
“I’m good, too,” I answer, obviously not for the same reasons. What would he say if he knew? Would he stop or…
He lifts his T-shirt over his head, then undoes the row of buttons on his jeans with a flick of the wrist.
His upper body is broad, with muscles forming smooth, sculpted lines. Muscles I didn’t even know existed. And those underwear ads do not do him justice.
The skin on his chest is golden, covered by a dusting of dark hair that adds to his rugged masculinity. His chest rises and falls slowly with each breath he takes, offering a sense of calm that I certainly don’t feel.
This is no big deal, or at least he makes it seem that way.
I suppose I should do the same—take off my clothes—because that’s how I’ll end up. But I can’t move. I can’t do anything but watch with a hammering heart as Ian pushes his jeans and boxers down over his hips, his erection springing out.
Another wave of panic tries to battle its way through my clouded brain fog. He’s so big. Every part of him, but especially...
He watches me watching him and smiles. I blush, averting my gaze.
“I like how you look at me, sweetheart, but if you comment on my retirement Dad bod, I might get a complex.”
I lick my lips because my mouth has gone dry. “You’re hot as hell and I’m sure you know it. For sure we should rethink leaving on the lights before I take off anything.” I’m still staring at his chest and lower and?—
“You’re beautiful, Sadie.” The sincerity in his tone interrupts my thoughts, and I feel warmth spread through me.
He puts his hands on the bed and tugs on my legs until I’m lying under him.
“You’re real and perfect. God, I want you so much.” He buries his nose in the crook of my neck. “I can’t promise I’ll last as long as I’d like this time. It’s been a while, and I swear if you bite down on your lip one more time, I’m going to lose it.”
“It’s all good,” I say automatically. I might not know much about sex, but I’m an expert on offering reassurance.
He hooks his thumbs under the edge of my shirt, pushing the soft fabric up my body as his calloused hands trail along my skin, leaving fire in their wake. When I feel cold air on my breasts, I shiver, then cry out as Ian takes one hard nipple into his mouth. He sucks gently while rolling the pad of his thumb over the other.
I squirm beneath him, but he holds me steady with his muscular thighs, and I feel his big—or a more appropriate word would be giant—cock against my leg.
This is it, I think. He’s going to slam into me and take what he wants. I won’t be a virgin, and maybe I can pretend it doesn’t matter.
We’re two people—unlikely friends—having sex. I can’t help but brace myself slightly, waiting for the pain I know is coming, willing myself not to react in a way that he’ll realize I haven’t done this before.
But he doesn’t slam into me. What he does is continue the exquisite torture he’s inflicting on my breasts with his teeth, his tongue, and his hot, sweet breath. He doesn’t seem in any hurry to move on to the main event, and I’m so caught up in the sensations he’s producing in my body that I forget to be nervous.
I would have bet my life Ian is so caught up in what he’s doing he can’t possibly notice the subtle change in my body, but he hums in approval.
“That’s right, Sadie, relax. We’re in no hurry.”
I’m in a hurry. I’m in a damn hurry to release the pressure building inside of me—the ache that’s pleasure teetering on the edge of pain.
“Lift your arms, darling,” he commands softly, and I do it without question.
A moment later, he pulls my shirt over my head and flings it to the side. I’m left with him staring down at me bare-chested. Even though I can still feel the heat of his mouth on my breasts, I fight the urge to cover myself with my hands.
“I knew it,” he says, and kisses me long and slow, deliberate. “I knew the first time I saw you blush that your whole body would turn that delectable shade of pink when I touched you.”
“I don’t think you know enough yet to claim it’s my whole body.”
Oh, my god. Where did that come from? Who spoke those words? Certainly someone with a hell of a lot more self-confidence than me.
I can tell by the way Ian’s eyes flare with satisfaction that he appreciates my paltry attempt at sexy talk. I wish I had more to offer, but lose all ability to speak once again when he shifts lower, pulling my pajama pants and plain pink cotton panties down over my hips.
Here we go, I think, but Ian doesn’t move. He stares at me—all of me. My most private parts.
“You still with me?” I repeat his question from earlier.
“So. Damn. Beautiful.” He says every word like it’s a complete sentence.
It makes my chest, as well as the soaked center between my legs, clench with longing.
Sure, I’m girl-next-door cute, but Ian is looking at me—touching me—like he’s a man who’s spent weeks in a desert, and I’m the first oasis he’s stumbled upon.
Instead of crawling back up my body like I expect, he draws my knees apart and puts his mouth on me.
I just about buck off the bed from the shock and pleasure of it. This isn’t what I expected. It’s too much, too intimate. Sex is one thing, but this…
I’m open to him in a way that makes me feel vulnerable. But my God, the things he’s doing with his tongue as he swirls and sucks. A voice is crying out for more. A moment later, I realize that voice belongs to me.
Ian seems to love the noises I’m making. When I clamp my mouth shut and cover it with one hand, he lifts his head, his eyes dark and wonderful.
“Tell me more, Sadie. Tell me what you want, what makes you happy, what gets you off. I want to hear everything, and I want to feel you come against me.”
As if I could deny him. It’s not easy for me to make my needs known when I barely understand what makes me feel good. Not like this. When I take matters into my own hands—or vibrator—it’s quick and efficient, but this is totally different. It’s luxurious and lustful, and holy crap, how have I been missing out for so long?
“Yes. There. Harder.” I manage breathy words as the pressure continues to build in me.
When my climax hits, Ian holds me steady, true to his word that he wants to feel all of it, all of me. I ride the wave, and as lost as I am to sensation, I never for one moment lose my awareness that this amazing, wonderful, out-of-my-league man has brought me to the peak of pleasure.
I haven’t even caught my breath when Ian places one more gentle kiss on the hair at the top of my mound, then reaches for the condom on the nightstand.
“I can’t wait any longer.” His voice is low and tight. “I have to feel you around me.”
He spreads my legs again, and I’m still delirious with the afterglow as he leverages himself above me. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, then kisses me as he nudges forward, and I’m shocked at the taste of my own desire on his lips.
Then I’m even more shocked when he pushes inside me in one forceful thrust.
I should be prepared. I know it’s coming, and I can’t be more relaxed after that bone-melting orgasm, but a strangled cry escapes my lips as pain slices through me.
“Fuck,” Ian whispers. “Sadie, are you okay?”
He lifts his head to look at me, but I follow him up, wrapping an arm tight around his neck and fusing my mouth to his. My body is adjusting already, and I roll my hips, testing out the weight of him inside me. It feels different, but good.
“Fuck,” Ian mutters again, then begins to move.