Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, studying myself.
The dress hugs my curves nicely, and I turn to the side.
Do I look sexy enough? My breasts are pretty large; I wear a double-D cup, but they aren’t nearly as perky as they were when I was a teenager.
I run a hand down myself, appreciating the inward curve under my bust but wishing my belly were just a little flatter.
Julian obviously appreciates my body, though. I mean, here we are, right?
I turn all the way around and look over my shoulder to see myself from the back. Yeah, my ass looks pretty good, if I do say so myself. The dress flares out at the hips, and I slide a hand down over my backside, imagining him doing the same then picking me up so I can wrap my legs around him…
Whoa. Down, girl.
I’m getting all turned on just from the anticipation of what’s to come, but the butterflies are also running rampant inside me, edging my excitement with a hint of nausea.
I turn forward again, leaning far over the tiled countertop to see my face close-up.
My skin is pretty clear, just a few freckles and moles, which are hard to avoid in a place where everyone, including me, worships the sun.
There are a few fine lines around my eyes and mouth, but I don’t think I look old.
I’ve never been big on makeup—it’s always seemed like way too much trouble.
I press my lips together, making sure the shiny, tinted lip gloss still looks good.
I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, but maybe I should put on some mascara?
I widen my eyes, easily my best feature—bright green and the thing virtually every guy who’s ever hit on me has chosen to focus on.
My dark eyebrows are arched nicely, and all stragglers have been plucked.
I brush my fingertip lightly across my lashes.
No mascara. Too messy.
I decide my face is good to go then shift my attention to my hair.
I’m a natural brunette. For years I got it highlighted to be more blond, until I was about thirty-five and decided to embrace my natural color.
Once I stopped dying it, I was delighted to discover the hidden curls and waves that came to life as it got healthier.
I already conditioned and scrunched it, letting it air-dry, and now it looks pretty good, hanging just to my shoulders in a cascade of messy curves. There are even a few ringlets, and I run my fingers gently over them.
Finally, I step back, taking in my entire reflection. I think I’m ready, but my God, am I jittery. I take a big breath, one of many since the reality of tonight started to sink in. I step out of my bathroom and head to the kitchen.
Julian gave me space for the few days after Gage’s party. Sending my son off to college was hard, but it helped that he seemed so excited. So grown-up.
Once Gage was safely up at UC Davis, the nerves set in for my meetup with Julian.
It’s been hard not being able to talk to anyone about it.
It still feels crazy and insane and morally, well, questionable.
But after that kiss? Well, now it feels like a runaway train.
Unstoppable—like fate, maybe. Or perhaps I’m just rationalizing.
Whatever it is, it’s too late now. For better or for worse, I’m already aboard.
I pour myself a glass of wine to soothe my nerves as I wait at the kitchen counter. Should I play some music? Light a candle? This is so surreal.
The numbers on the clock crawl by, and finally, at five till nine, I hear a soft knock at the door. My heart leaps to life, pounding in my chest like it wants out.
Julian looks amazing, of course. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a gray polo shirt, and his black hair is still wet from a shower. His eyes light up, and he flashes me that bright white smile as I open the door.
He’s holding out a small bouquet of red roses. “You look beautiful. That dress matches your eyes.” His gaze slides down my body, and he hands me the flowers.
“Thank you, you look good too,” I say stiffly, ushering him in.
He follows me to the kitchen, where I find a vase for the roses. He sits at the end of the island, watching me, as has become a habit when he’s over.
I join him on the barstool next to his, and we both turn to face one another.
We sit like that, just studying each other, awkwardness palpable in the air.
The rising tension reaches a breaking point as the hint of a smirk tugs at his lips.
I let out a big breath and lean back, my eyes on the ceiling.
“This is so weird, right?” I say with a grimace.
“So weird.” He’s smiling fully now.
“I didn’t know what to wear or whether I should get anything ready or how to act—” I’m babbling, and Julian grabs my waving hand and interlaces his fingers with mine.
“You’re fine. It’s all fine. We’re just hanging out,” he says.
His calm makes me feel like a frazzled mess by comparison.
I try to slow my breathing. “Just hanging out,” I say, echoing him.
He keeps hold of my hand. “How are you doing now? How was it for you when Gage left?”
My heart twists sweetly in my chest. “I’m okay.” I sigh. “He got to school, and everything is good. I miss him already, but I really am okay now.”
His face softens as he studies me.
“Thanks for asking,” I add, squeezing our woven fingers together. “How about you? How are preparations for your move going?”
“Good. I’m pretty much all packed. Just a few last-minute things to do.” His voice is tepid as he glances down at his lap.
I lean down and catch his eye. “And you’re still okay with what we talked about? The exit plan?”
“Yeah. And you’re good with it too?”
I half smile at him. “Yeah.”
He slides off the barstool and pulls me with him toward the living room. “Let’s go sit on the couch, where it’s more comfortable.”
I let him lead me into my sunken living room and down onto the huge plush sectional that fills the space.
He faces me, still holding my hand. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He shifts awkwardly, and I can tell he’s nervous. I just wait, letting him take a moment.
“So. I’m not a virgin, like I said.”
I nod.
“But I also don’t have a… ton of experience.” He swallows.
This is a new side to him, so different from the bold, cocky one he usually shows. I like it. I feel like he trusts me.
“Okay,” I say calmly.
“And I was wondering, since you do have—”
I tilt my chin down and arch a brow. I’m not sure I want to hear how he’ll refer to my decades of expertise.
He grins. “Well, more experience…”
I relax my expression, satisfied with that choice of words.
“I just wondered if maybe you could…” He trails off. “Give me some…” Another pause.
“Pointers?” This poor guy. I’ve seen dental extractions that looked more comfortable.
“Yes,” he says, on an exhalation.
“Like you want me to tell you some things? About sex?” My mouth turns down as I ponder this.
“Yeah.” He starts warming to the idea. “Anything you think I should know, I’d love to hear it.”
“Like… a sex lesson?”
His eyes flash with heat as his nervousness evaporates and he remembers what it is we’re actually talking about. “Yes,” he says in a low voice, his dark eyes on me.
“That sounds like it could be fun,” I say slowly. “Let me think about that.” I watch as his eyes get even hotter.
He licks his lips lustily.
A flutter rises in my chest. Oh, yes. This definitely sounds like fun. This curious, innocent side of him inspires me to take charge and guide him, and I’m surprised at what a turn-on it is. “Okay,” I say at last. “I’ll do it.”
He smiles wickedly.
I study him for a few moments then pull my hand from his and sit up straight. “Well, let’s start with the basics, then, shall we?”
He watches me expectantly.
“The first and most important thing is… consent.”
He shoots me a look that says, “Seriously?”
“Hear me out.” I raise my hands in defense. “It’s much more nuanced than just ‘Don’t rape anyone.’”
His expression is still skeptical.
“So, the man holds all the cards physically, right? He has all the power.” I run my hands down his pecs and then his stomach, and then tug his shirt to untuck it from his shorts.
He’s enjoying this more now, I can tell, as his breathing picks up and those laser-beam eyes are back.
I pull his shirt up, motioning for him to take it off.
He complies, and my own breath catches as I see the golden expanse of his muscular chest and arms.
I place his hands on his thighs.
“You keep these right here, okay?”
He nods, his gaze still glued to mine.
“Uh…” I lick my lips. “So the woman,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “The woman has the power that you grant her. Veto power.” I rest my hands on his chest again, right above his racing heart. “She says no, you stop.” I shrug. “Of course. But still, you can ask permission.”
Interest flickers over his expression.
“This all goes both ways, but I’ll stick with one way for simplicity’s sake.” I rise to my knees and bring my face close to his. “You might ask if you can touch her.” I run my hands along his chest and finish with a squeeze of his biceps. “Or if you can kiss her.” I brush my lips over his.
He shifts slightly, trying to keep our lips from parting, but I press him back gently with a warning look.
“Or where you can kiss her.” I run my fingers lightly over the bulge in his lap.
His eyes widen for a flash, and butterflies flap wildly in my stomach.
I lean in so my mouth is next to his ear. “Or you might ask if she likes biting.” I nip his ear lobe. My voice is just above a whisper. “Or spanking.”
His jaw flexes.
I tip my chin up and run my fingers slowly down my neck. “Or maybe even… choking.”
He tenses and takes in a sharp breath, and I pull back to see his face. He looks almost feral, and he’s gripping his thighs so tight his knuckles are turning white. My smile is wicked as I relish the effect I have on him. I’m so hot now that I’m tempted to take some of my own clothes off.
“Are you enjoying the lesson?” I ask, breathless.
He nods.
“You’ve been so good, keeping your hands to yourself.”
His eyes flash as he nods again.
I point at his hands. “Up.”
He lifts them, and I slide onto his lap and straddle him.
“Now you get to keep your hands on my thighs.”
He wets his lips as I pull my skirt up and press his hands onto the bare flesh above my knees. He squeezes them, and an appreciative growl rumbles in his throat, sending a thrill right through me. Being this close to him is intoxicating, and it’s making my heart go haywire.
I sit and enjoy the stillness for a moment, watching his eyes burn. His hands start to slide upward toward my center, but I stop him.
“Ah, ah. Not yet.”
He growls again, and my smile is devilish.
“I’ve noticed you watching me, Julian. I want to know what you’ve enjoyed looking at. Which parts of me do you like?”
He takes in a breath. “I… I like your lips. Your eyes and your body. You’re sexy as hell.” His eyes dart down to my cleavage and then back up, and my smile widens.
I put my hands on the couch cushions behind him and lean in super close, bringing my breasts right in front of his nose. “You like my breasts, Julian?”
He inhales sharply, staring down at them with hunger in his eyes.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” he rasps then clears his throat.
I touch myself, running my hands up my sides and around the outsides of my breasts then across the rounded tops of my bare skin. He groans, kneading my thighs in restless anticipation.
“How does it feel knowing you’re going to see them?” I lean in closer so his lips are against my cleavage. “And you’re going to touch them?” I ask in a whisper.
He grips my thighs harder, pulling me toward him as he licks and nips my sensitive skin.
I gasp, pulling back with a hand on his chest. “Not yet.”
He leans his head back, tossing his hair out of his eyes and breathing heavily. “You’re driving me crazy, Chelsea.” He grinds himself up against me in his lap. “I’m so hard for you already.”
“Mmm.” I’m loving the sensation of his erection against my soaked panties.
I admire his chest and arms, the olive skin taut over broad, firm muscles and the defined ridges of his abs.
Then I run my hands along his pecs and down the center of his chest to where a fine layer of dark hair disappears into his shorts.
“I’ve thought about you so much, Julian.
Thought about what your skin would feel like under my fingers.
About how this sexy body would feel on top of mine. ”
He shifts again, biting his lip.
“Have you thought about me?” I ask.
“God, yes,” he groans. “Every time I come over. Every time I see you. I want to tear your clothes off and—” He stops.
I lift my brows. “And?”
He slides his hands around to my ass and grips hard enough to make me yelp.
His words come out in a rush. “I want to bend you over the nearest table, or throw you up against a wall, or just take you right there on the floor of the grocery store. I want to fuck you so bad I feel like I’ll explode.
I’ve been dreaming about this for so long.
God, please let me touch you now, Chelsea. ”
My heart is pounding hard in my chest. He’s so desperate and needy for me, and I’m just as eager.
“Are you having trouble keeping your hands where they are?”
“You know I am,” he says roughly.
I decide I want them on me. Now. I look down at his arms. “Then don’t.”