Chapter 43
ELLA
Night is starting to fall by the time we pull into my driveway from Uncle Ray and Aunt Teresa’s house. Ry and I were glad to spend the day helping; the neighborhood really needs it. But we are beyond thrilled to finally have some down time. We’ve barely gotten a chance to talk or even really process what all happened.
Harlan went back to the garage today and confirmed everything was just fine. He has an extra key to Ry’s truck and found it on the side of the road where we left it. Nothing was stolen. Nothing was storm damaged. The bed of the truck was waterlogged, and that’s it. What a blessing. He drove it back to the shop and currently has the tent and foldable chairs set outside, drying.
I talked to my parents again. Not willing to cut their trip short since all immediate family members are still alive—not counting my sister—they said they’d be back in town on Sunday. Marcum and Leary and everyone else from the department made it through okay. Leary had a power pole fall across his driveway, but no one was hurt. I also talked to Kristie. She wanted to come over tonight, but I firmly told her no. And of course, Hudson called. He also wanted to come over tonight to check on me. You can imagine what I said to that.
I’ve never felt so dirty in my entire life, and I’m not even the one who was chopping trees and climbing over sheetrock all day today. I glance over at Ry, turning on the flashlight as he unlocks the door to my house. White plaster clings to his hair. His face is smudged with dark brown dirt, and chainsaw grease is caked against his neck.
“The hot water heaters keep a reservoir of hot water even when the power goes out, but I don’t know how long it will last once the shower is turned on. You use my shower. I’ll go over to the Big House and use one of the guest room showers. They’re on different hot water tanks.”
His brow furrows. “I don’t want you walking though that house by yourself without the power on. You could hurt yourself.”
I smile at his thoughtfulness. “It’s okay. I’ll use the guest bathroom closest to us.”
He reaches in his back pocket and grabs his cell phone, turning on the flashlight. “No. You use your bathroom; I’ll use the guest bathroom. I’ll just follow the smell of entitled money until I come to the right door.”
I snort. “That’ll be the second door on the right, sir.” I grab a candle from the counter, lighting it. I’m glad Ry had us gather them all yesterday after the storm. “Here, use this. You don’t wanna kill your cell phone battery. It may still be a day or two before we get power.”
He winks. “Good thing I’m with the only person I care to talk to.”
He opens the back door and heads down the marble breezeway, searching for the guest bathroom. I holler after him, “I’ll be sure to tell Harlan about that.”
Twenty-two minutes. Twenty-two glorious minutes.
That’s how long the water stayed hot. I shampooed my hair twice, I shaved every part of my body known to mankind, and I used a half a bottle of shower gel. I’ve never felt so clean in my life. What a difference twenty-two minutes can make.
I grab one of my sleep shirts from Ry. He only gave me one shirt. I commandeered three more. All Harlan Garage and Automotive T-shirts. I love them. The material is so soft it’s like satin. Slipping it over my head and stepping into a fresh pair of panties, I open my bathroom door and smile when I see my bedroom. Ry must’ve finished before me. Seven different candles cascade dancing light across my bedroom.
I tiptoe down the hallway and stop when I see him in the kitchen. He’s lit every single candle. The others are scattered across the kitchen and living room, lighting the space like a fairy garden in the summer. He’s standing there, making sandwiches in his boxer briefs. Correction: in Holt’s boxer briefs. Besides the T-shirts I sleep in, Ry didn’t have any extra clothes here. Everything is in his truck. Before we left, he borrowed some more clothes from Holt, including boxer briefs this time. They’re tighter across his crotch than his own boxer briefs.
Immediately, my mouth waters.
My eyes trail up the muscled V of his pelvis, to the firm lines of his muscled stomach. The tight lines of his pectorals flex when he reaches for the peanut butter. I engross myself in the strong build of his shoulders. His facial scruff is three shades darker than his hair. Sexy, dark, and mysterious. A stubborn water droplet falls from above his ear and travels down the thick cord of his neck. Even from across the room, the candlelight reflects against his eyes, turning the pale green shades of black and white.
I can’t breathe. I can’t function. I can’t live one more second on this earth without knowing the feeling of him being inside of me. Being a part of me. I love him. And he loves me.
We haven’t even talked about what he said before the tornado came roaring through our lives.
You’re the love of my fucking life.
Well, right back at ya.
He doesn’t even glance up when he notices my presence. “Your bananas were about to go bad. I’m making peanut butter and banana sandwiches. I know you’re probably tired of peanut butter already. I promise when things are back to normal, I’ll buy you a four-foot-long Philly cheesesteak.”
When I don’t laugh or respond, he glances over at me. “Lulu? Are you okay?” He sucks peanut butter from his thumb.
Wordlessly, I pull the shirt over my head and toss it over on the loveseat. The butter knife falls from his hand, clattering against the countertop. He loves my breasts. I know he does. He can’t help it, but his cheeks turn pink every time he looks at my naked chest. It’s so darn cute.
Grabbing the waistband of my panties, I slowly lower them to the ground. Stepping out of them, I kick them away. They crumple underneath the side table. From here, I watch as his erection grows, straining against the thin fabric of his underwear.
I’m really nervous. But I’m completely calm.
I’m really self-conscious. But I’m completely confident.
I’m really trapped. But I’m completely free.
He makes me everything. Everything all at once.
But what he really makes me is wet . Soaking wet. And ready to be loved.
His whisper is raspy and low. “Lulu.”
“Yesterday was an emotional day.”
He nods, staring at my naked body, like I’m the first girl he’s ever seen. And we both know that’s not true. “Yeah.”
I suck in a breath, stiffening my spine. “Do you say things you don’t really mean when you’re emotional?”
His eyes dilate, and he slowly comes around the kitchen counter, lazily leaning against it, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like his massive hard-on isn’t bobbing up against his stomach like some sort of porno Heimlich maneuver. “No.”
My heart stops beating. My nipples grow so hard, they become painful. “Oh.”
He bites his bottom lip, driving me to the brink of hysterical lunacy. “Go ahead and ask me. I know you want to.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He drags his hand over his jaw. “Don’t beat around the bush, Lulu. I like you when you get to the point.”
“Fine. That’s the question then. Do you just like me?” Despite my best efforts, nerves get the best of me, and I catch myself rubbing my scar. I quickly put my hand down by my side.
“That’s not the question you really wanna ask.”
I lick my lips. “Do you love me, Ry? Are you in love with me?”
He pushes off the counter and slowly closes the distance between us. His chest grazes against mine. “You are the love of my fucking life, Luella Margaret Hill. Never before. Never after. You’re my one and only.”
Holy. Crap.
I press my body against his. We’re still not touching each other with our hands. Only our bodies. “Ask me.”
His jaw twitches, and his throat makes a loud gulping noise. “Tell me something. Something no one else knows.”
“I love you, Ryland Joseph Crutchfield. Never before. Never after. You are my only reality.”
His chest rattles. It sounds like he’s purring.
I look down, mesmerized that our bodies are only separated by a thin piece of material.
“That’s not the only question you wanna ask me,” he whispers.
He’s right. It’s not.
Every part of my body is heavy with desire. Weighed down. Like trying to move in water. “Are you gonna have sex with me tonight, Ry?”
His sigh of relief would be comical if it weren’t such a serious moment. “Hell, yeah, I am.”
He gives me no chance to respond before hauling me into his arms and punishing my mouth with his. I wrap my feet around his waist, obsessed with how the motion spreads my innermost parts wide open. If that pesky underwear were gone, I bet his body would slip right into mine. He walks us back to my bedroom, only bumping into the wall twice, which is quite an accomplishment considering how ferociously we’re attacking one another.
I lower my feet to the ground, anchoring myself as his kisses become more controlled, more time-consuming. Deeper. Better. His calloused fingers massage my breasts, making me moan. I can’t stand it anymore. I quickly reach my hand down the front of his boxer briefs, grabbing him, and spreading his own moisture around the mushroomed head of his cock.
In one split second, Ry backs away from my touch. He drags his hands through his hair. Tossing his head back at the ceiling, he screams. “Are you kidding me right now!”
Who is he talking to? Me?
He looks like he’s just been stabbed. Or shot. Or hanged. “Lulu, we can’t have sex tonight.”
The horror. “Why not? I swear I’m ready. I’ve been ready.”
“I don’t have a condom,” he waves his hand at the bedroom door. “Condoms are in my truck. My truck is on the other side of the county.” He swears underneath his breath. “Let me go find a store that’s open.”
I smile, biting my lip. “I have condoms.”
His eyebrows rise into a new zip code. “Excuse me?”
“I bought condoms a few weeks ago. I didn’t know when our moment would come so I wanted to be prepared. I don’t wanna use condoms you bought for some other girl. In fact, those things get thrown out the second you get back to your truck, understand?”
He nods, watching me as I open my nightstand. I set all the boxes on the bed. He looks at the boxes and then at me and then back to the boxes again. He’s taking forever to pick what he wants. I’m suddenly very aware of my nakedness, so I press my legs together and casually fold an arm across my chest.
He looks back at me. Back at the boxes.
“What’s wrong, Ry? You’re killing me.”
“You bought nine boxes of condoms.”
“Yeah.”
He bursts out laughing, pulling my hand away from my chest and kissing my palm.
I pout, not understanding what’s so damn funny. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“It’s so damn funny, Lulu. What did the cashier say? He probably thought you were filming a porno. Or running a condom distributing charity.”
I look at all the boxes and start to laugh at myself. “Come to think of it, he did give me a weird look.” By now, we’re both laughing so hard, I’m afraid we may ruin the moment. “There’s five-thousand different kinds. I wasn’t sure what would be the best. I wanted you to have options.”
Grabbing a black box that says ‘ XXL, New thinnest material ever’ , he sweeps all the other boxes to the floor. If I thought our laughing fit would ruin the mood, I was wrong. The look on his face turns from good humor to carnal hunger in a nanosecond. The candlelight dances across his features, making his sheer beauty even more beautiful. Pushing me down on the bed, he crawls between my legs. He kisses from my neck, down my chest, and finally settles his face between my legs.
“I thought we were gonna have sex?”
“Is My Lulu impatient? Good things come to those who wait.” He licks my wet folds, immediately sending an electric shock up my spine, freezing my movements. “But I’ll probably only last two minutes once I’m buried inside of you, so I need to get you off at least one time before then.”
Hearing him say that he’s going to be ‘buried inside of me’ fills me with a yearning unlike any I’ve ever known. He could probably just blow cold air across my pelvis and I would immediately orgasm.
I’m luckier than that, though.
He takes his time.
Giving and pulling back. Giving and pulling back. Until I’m about to explode.
He’s going back one last time to finish the job when I pull against his shoulders. “No. That’s enough. I’m ready to come. But not on your face and fingers. On your cock.”
His eyes widen and his chest heaves. He likes it when I talk dirty. And the more sexual we become, the dirtier I talk. He loves it.
He rips open the box, grabs a condom, and tears into the foil packaging. I stare in awed fascination as he rolls it on himself. I’m scared. But more than that, I’m excited. He’s already broken me, but still, I know this will hurt. I pray it only hurts for a moment because I’m ready to feel pleasure. I wasn’t kidding about wanting to come on his body.
Crawling over me, he leans his forehead against my own and lays his lips across mine, allowing us to breathe each other’s air. It’s one of the most intimate things we do. And the perfect beginning.
The beginning to the end of my virginity.