Chapter 29 First Time
FIRST TIME
Micha stands, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m calling it a night. Andy?”
She finishes her drink, standing with Micha. “Yeah.” Her eyes move between me and Shy and she gives us a salute. “See you on the flip side, ladies.”
“Night,” me and Shy call.
Holt leans forward in his chair, angling his head to peer at me. “You wanna call it a night, baby?”
My heart is so swollen with nerves, it feels like it might clog off my air way. Still, I nod.
Ricky claps his hands on his thighs as he stands. “And that’s my queue.” He looks at Holt. “You have fun doing—her.” My face gets red-hot. Ricky looks at Elijah. “And you have fun doing her.”
Holt claps Ricky on the back of the head. “This shit is why you’re alone, man.”
“With that I bid you adieu.” Ricky giggles a high-pitched sound as he half dances, half sways to his van. He’s tipsy. And high.
“Idiot,” Elijah mutters, but he’s wearing a small smile so it’s all in good fun.
“You good to put out the fire, man?” Holt asks Elijah as he starts to pull the chairs under the little shelter the campsite provides for the group sites in case of rain. Then he takes my hand.
“We’re good,” Elijah assures, and that’s it.
Holt leads me from the fire and away from the other tents to where he’s tucked ours in a nook of trees. He unzips the tent and gestures me inside. When Holt flicks the switch on the lantern, illuminating the space, my nerves balloon with it.
My hands tremble, and I try to hide it by busying them with the zipper on my bag before I pull out my pyjamas. I’m not confident like Andy or brave like Shy. It’s not easy for me to strip down in front of anyone. Especially not Holt.
I think Holt senses it because he tosses his thumb to the door. “Gonna grab us a couple bottles of water, yeah?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I really don’t know how I manage the words past the nerves clogging my throat.
As soon as Holt is outside, I race to change into my jammies. Short shorts and a tank top, which suddenly feels ridiculous for camping. I’m going to freeze my ass off.
I hurry into the sleeping bags, but don’t lay down. I’m contemplating grabbing a sweater to sleep in when the zipper begins to fall, and Holt appears with two bottles of water. He offers me one and I take it, cracking the cap and taking a sip. It’s more something to do than it is out of want.
And then it’s because my throat goes bone dry when Holt’s hands move to the buckle of his jeans. He doesn’t let his gaze drift from me as he watches me watch him remove his pants. When he’s in nothing more than his boxers, he flicks off the lantern and crawls into the bed beside me.
My heart is a mess of erratic beats in my chest. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he could hear every single one.
When I don’t lay down beside him, I feel his hand on my belly. Then I feel pressure.
My words rattle. “I think I’m going to need a sweater tonight.”
His voice is thick and rough. He promises, “I’ll keep you warm, Faye.”
Slowly, I shimmy down our makeshift bed until I’m laying with him. My body is a tingly mess of hormones. Holt hasn’t touched me or kissed me, and yet I feel the throb of needy awareness between my legs. Already, I’m certain my panties are wet.
“Come here,” Holt encourages gently. “We won’t do anything. I’ll just hold you while we sleep.”
I nod even though I kind of think I might be disappointed by the prospect of doing nothing at all. My body is humming. It wants to be explored by him.
Still, I give him my back and wiggle into his front.
He wraps his arm around me and dips his head.
When the heat of his lips whispers across the sensitive skin between my shoulder and neck that has been left bare by the design of my sleep shirt, goosebumps rise over every inch of my skin—and the heat between my legs increases.
I hold my breath to catch my moan.
Holt’s lips move over my skin in a kiss, this one firmer than the first. I can’t keep my breath from escaping now.
It falls raggedly into the darkness that floods our tent.
But my eyes have adjusted. I know if I looked over my shoulder, I would see him.
So, I know he can see me. Can see the visible evidence of the goosebumps that cover my flesh. The proof that I am affected.
“Holt.”
“Mmmm?”
“I don’t want to sleep.”
His lips press into my skin again, and his fingers dig gently into my hips. I shift back into him, my body desperate for more contact and gasp when I feel the hard length of his arousal.
This time, it’s Holt who sucks in a breath. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know.” But I rock against him.
He lets out a noise that might as well splash me in gasoline before tossing a flame at me. I ignite. Holt’s hand moves from my hip to the hem of my shirt. He slides his hand under the material and presses his palm into my skin.
This isn’t all that different than the other times we’ve made out. There have been many moments where we’ve stolen touches and kisses. But every time before this was cloaked in the risk that we could be caught. We were never fully in it, because we knew that we were never fully alone.
Now, we’re alone. Completely alone.
No one is going to interrupt us. No one is going to catch us.
We can go as far as we want tonight, and there won’t be anyone to say anything.
Holt pulls me onto my back, and then his lips fall on mine.
He kisses me like I’m air. Like he has to.
Like I’m the life that promises him another day.
Our tongues twist and tangle, and he shifts his body over mine.
Instinctively, my legs part around him and he grinds his arousal into my core.
I whimper because the feeling is so good.
My hands run the length of Holt’s back. He pushes my shirt up and murmurs into my mouth, “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
Words aren’t needed. I nod and Holt pushes my shirt over my head. His eyes feast on my chest, my belly. Another eruption of goosebumps rise across my flesh and my nipples harden into peaks that Holt can’t resist tasting.
My head falls back because that is good, too.
He moves from my breasts to my lips and back. He grinds into me and lets his hands roam until I feel like I’m about to melt into a puddle beneath him.
“I want to feel you, Holt.” My lips move against his neck, and he freezes.
He does a push up, caging me between his arms so that he can peer down into my eyes. “Are you sure, Faye?”
I bite my lip and the heat in his gaze simmers. “I’m sure.”
To push my point, I run my fingertips down his chest, his torso, to the band of his boxers. His belly flexes under my touch. His breath falls from where it’s been strangled in his throat.
I hook the band and push it slowly down his hips. I wrestle with his boxers, laughing when I fail to remove them myself and Holt has to help me. And then the laughter dies when I see him.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him and he’s—intimidating.
“Oh, wow.”
Holt’s lips twitch before he wets them with his tongue. He grips his length roughly, his eyes shuttering for a long moment before they flutter open again.
“You don’t know what you do to me.”
I give him a shy smile. “I think you do it to me, too.”
He shakes his head. “Not a chance.”
He releases his hold on his arousal, and then his hands come to my shorts. He peers into my eyes as though to ask me if I’m sure one last time, and then he pulls.
He reveals me to him slowly, and all the while my heart slams in my chest like a caged animal. When he tosses my shorts to the side, he sits back on his haunches between my legs for a long moment. Fire kisses my skin. Every inch of my skin as his gaze rakes over the length of me.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ll ever see.”
That fire rages in my cheeks, and I’m thankful when he drops his body to mine.
The first time his naked body connects with mine—it’s like a spill of magma. Every inch of my body comes alive. I moan, and he swallows it with a deep kiss. His arousal slides into the wet heat of my own, and he groans.
“You feel so good.”
“You too,” I gasp when he strokes me with a slow thrust of his hips.
We rock against one another for what feels like forever, stoking the fire of our need until we’re both panting hard. Physical hunger quivers between us, a live thing neither of us can resist.
Then I tell him, “I have a condom.”
Holt freezes above me. I don’t know how much time passes between us before he rasps, “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure. I love you.”
He swallows my words with a kiss that is so deep it grips my heart in the fist of it where I’m confident it’ll spend the rest of eternity.
I knew when I first saw this boy that he’d be the one to steal all the pieces of me.
And I was right. Because I know in this moment that I’ll never belong to any other the way I belong to him.
To Holt. Because I’m always going to be his.
Holt pushes back to reach for my bag. I point to the pocket where the condoms are and he finds them quickly, raising a brow at the little stack.
“You came with plans,” he teases.
My face reddens. “Mom gave them to me.”
His eyes widen. “Seriously?”
I nod and laugh. He laughs too. And then both our laughs die when he tears the wrapper with his teeth. I watch as he rolls it on, swallowing hard when he plants his hands on either side of my head.
“Ha—have you done this before?”
Holt shakes his head slowly. “There’s no one I’ve ever wanted to do this with but you, Faye. I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. I knew you were meant to be mine then. Waiting for you was worth it.”
I feel so much right now. Sensation. Emotion. It’s a massive overwhelm of everything and I just don’t know how to cope with it all, so I grip his shoulders and pull him down to me. I kiss him as he moves against me. He feels different now with the rubber of the condom, but not bad.
I don’t think Holt could ever feel bad. Ever.
We fumble together in nervous giggles and rough grunts until we finally get him aligned. His skin is burning hot where it connects with mine, and his breaths fall in shuddering puffs between us. He trembles as he holds himself against me.
“You can still say no, Faye. I’ll wait for you forever if that’s what you want.”
“I want you. All of you, Holt.”
The first thrust is shocking. The second comes with a pinch of pain that snags the breath in my lungs. The third makes me cry out as I grip him.
“Are you okay, Faye? Tell me you’re okay?” Holt’s body quivers as he holds himself still, only halfway inside me.
“It—hurts,” I whisper, tears threatening. “I don’t know…” I moan. “Don’t stop.”
Holt drops his lips to mine. He kisses me deeply as he moves another inch inside. The burning pain is a lot when he thrusts all the way. I grip him, stiff beneath him.
I knew the first time would hurt. Andy told me as much. But I didn’t know it would hurt this much.
The fire between my legs is a whole new kind—and I don’t love it.
“Kiss me, Faye,” Holt encourages. “Kiss me and let your body adjust. It—I think it’ll get better for you.”
I nod, but it’s a little frantic. Holt kisses me for a long time. He kisses me until I relax against him. And then he starts to move. The pain isn’t so severe anymore. In fact, the more he moves inside me the less intense the pain is—although it’s in no way less intense.
Something else is building inside me now. It’s the same something that Holt builds when he touches me.
It doesn’t take long for it to erupt, or for Holt to tip over the edge with me.
Holt pulls out of me, ties off the condom and pulls me into his naked front. He kisses my shoulder again and again. “I’m so in love with you, Faye. I have so many dreams for my life, and you’re a part of every one.”
“I love you, Holt. I’ll always love you.”
“Promise?”
I giggle as I pull his arms tighter around me. “I promise, Holt. I’ll always love you.”
I wake to the feel of sticky skin and muggy heat. Holt makes a noise and I jolt, my eyes snapping open to find he’s propped up on one elbow, watching me.
I groan, trying and failing to sink into the covers to hide.
“I like watching you sleep,” Holt tells me.
I scowl up at him. “Creep.”
Holt laughs. I love the sound so much. I love watching him laugh.
I love him.
“You know, one more year and I’m going to get to wake up next to you every morning.”
My heart quivers. My belly tightens.
Oh, my God. I’m not a virgin anymore.
I had sex last night. With Holt.
I want to do it again.
My lips curl into a slow smile that Holt watches with a hunger that has morphed into something more since last night. I can already tell we’re different. New. More connected.
His eyes drop to my bare chest and back up to my eyes. “Are you sore?”
I clench my thighs and bite my lip. “Only a little.”
His eyes close slowly before they open again. “Let’s get you some breakfast.” Holt pushes up from the bed as though determined to put space between us. “We both know how you get if you’re not fed.”
I can’t argue, because it’s true. I’ve always been a breakfast girly. I’ll always be a breakfast girly.
Still, I thought he was going to—you know—again.
Maybe tonight.