First Time: Ian's Story (First Time (Ian) Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: First Time: Ian's Story (First Time (Ian) Book 1)
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I might as well have asked Penny her weight
difference between now and high school. “No! How dare you!”


I’m sorry, I didn’t realize
it was an offensive question.” I laughed at the absurdity of her
reaction.


No, they don’t eat her. You
should YouTube octopods, sometime. They’re fascinating.” She leaned
back and sighed happily.

I had never met a woman as strange, as
funny, or as kind as Penny. I had no idea what she was doing, going
out with me. I probably should have counseled her against it. But I
was falling for her, and I would be reaching terminal velocity
soon.


Well, I find
you
fascinating, Penny
Parker,” I said, and I winked at her. Because if I tried to say
anything else, she would know I was already in love with
her.

Chapter Nine

 

Stunned by my personal
epiphany regarding my feelings for Penny, I drove back to my
apartment on autopilot. I hadn’t intended to, and we’d never
discussed exactly where it was we were going when we’d left the
restaurant, but it still felt like a sleazy,
oh-no-we’ve-run-out-of-gas move.


Well, isn’t this
presumptuous?” Her slow, sexy smile assuaged some of my
mortification.

Since she wasn’t offended, I thought I might
as well run with it. I tried for cool, one hand on the top of the
steering wheel as I shrugged. “It’s Saturday night. There must be
something good on television, right?”

Her knowing smile never faded. “I don’t
think we’re going to watch TV up there.”

Christ Almighty. I knew she wasn’t promising
sex, but my cock didn’t know that.


You caught me.” I pointed
to her arm, where Monty’s sucker marks were still visible, though
fading. “I was hoping I’d get to put some hickeys on you, as well,
since you’re being so generous about it tonight.”


Shut up and let’s get
inside.” She laughed.

God but I wanted to.

Upstairs, I offered to open some wine, and
Penny accepted, though in hindsight, I worried she might think I
was trying to get her drunk. She wandered off to the bathroom, and
I panicked. Romance wasn’t exactly my forte, and I didn’t know what
a woman Penny’s age would expect from me. Was wine overkill? Did it
seem too cliché or desperate? Or was it not enough? Would she feel
like I didn’t value her if I didn’t make an effort?

I went for the dimmer switch on the wall and
lowered the lights on the first floor, just slightly. And it felt
too silent in the apartment. I turned on my phone and paired it
with the intercom system but stopped short when it came to finding
anything to play. My musical tastes weren’t what I would consider
updated, by any means.

I picked a playlist of slow, romantic songs
I’d put together in a rather maudlin post-divorce moment. Most of
them were from the eighties, but depending on Penny’s musical
tastes and knowledge, it was possible I could get away with
pretending they were just so obscure and hip she’d never heard of
them.

Calm
down
, the last reasonable part of my brain,
the part that didn’t wish me ill, commanded.
She likes you. She came up here, didn’t she? She’s in the
bathroom, now, probably checking her makeup and worrying about
impressing you the way you’re worrying about impressing
her.

I wished that part of my brain were a little
bigger and a bit more vocal in times of need, because it really did
give good advice.

Penny returned just as I brought the wine to
the living room. I placed the bottle on the coffee table, handed
her a glass and said, “I hope you like Chardonnay, because it was
all I had.”


It’s better than a glass of
peanut butter.” She took a cautious sip. The last time she’d been
here, she’d gulped down a beer without hesitation. I made a mental
note to offer her that, next time.

For now, I just sat on the couch and patted
the cushion beside me. “Best living room view in all of New
York?”

She joined me, nestling at my side as though
she’d always belonged there. I put my arm around her, and she fit
so well maybe I did believe in destiny as much as she did.

She laid her head on my shoulder. “Best seat
in all of New York. Best date.”


I’m glad you liked it,” was
all I could manage to say. Any breath I had to speak with lodged in
my chest. It escaped as a sigh. “Of course, now I’ll never top
it.”


You’ve set a really high
bar for me,” she mock-complained. “How am I supposed to compete
with you providing the culmination of my lifelong
dream?”

Had it truly been that serious? If I’d known
that, I would have made it more of an occasion. “I had no idea it
would mean that much to you. But I’m honored that it did.”

After a moment of companionable silence, she
asked, “Can I tell you something? Something that might sound…too
soon-ish?”


Yes?” Alarm bells sounded
in my head. A lot of women in my past had told me things “too
soonish”, and it was almost always the thing common knowledge
insisted wasn’t the thing you were supposed to say. I had almost
always said it back, either because I meant it, or I felt put on
the spot. With Penny, I would have meant it. It was stupid to
pretend otherwise. But those other women weren’t around anymore,
and I’d fallen hard for them, too. I didn’t want what happened with
them to happen with Penny. Partially because she was so young. She
didn’t seem flakey or reckless with her emotions, but I feared she
might feel something for me that could change on a whim. Bodily
tense with dread, I resigned myself to hearing exactly the “too
soonish” words I knew were coming.

She turned her head, gazing up at me
thoughtfully. “You are a really great guy.”

My head dropped forward from genuine relief
and the sudden relaxation of muscle tension, and my face grew hot
at her praise.


You are,” she went on,
strong in her insistence, as though she could see through to my
self-doubt. “You’re funny, you’re very good-looking, you’ve got a
sexy accent—”

I made a noise of disbelief and put my glass
down on the table. She had enough positives she could make a list,
which didn’t sit well with a man who felt profoundly insecure. “If
you like Scrooge McDuck.”

She forcibly ignored my criticism. “And you
did something really thoughtful for me, and I know you did it
without any expectation of getting something in return.”


How do you know I wasn’t
trying to get something in return?” I asked then realized how that
might sound. “I wasn’t, but how did you know that?”


Because you’re not as good
at putting up a front as you think you are,” she answered without
pause. She reached up for the hand that rested on her shoulder.
“You’re a good man, and that shows through. Even if you think
you’re hiding it under all that self-deprecation.”

I had to smile at that. She had me figured
out, displaying an astuteness that was slightly intimidating. “All
right. You caught me. I just wanted to make you happy.”


And that’s why I’m not
scared of how fast things are going,” she explained.

I was glad one of us wasn’t. “Oh? Well, that
wasn’t as serious as I was expecting.”


I know what you were
expecting. And I liked watching you squirm,” she
admitted.

I’d like to watch her squirm. Preferably
while my head was between her legs. But that wasn’t on the menu
yet, so I had to settle for a different tactic. “Penny, I have to
ask you something.” I kept my voice low and serious, in the nature
of our conversation so far. I stroked the back of her hand with my
thumb and looked deeply into her eyes. “Are you ticklish?”

I didn’t give her a chance to answer.
Instead, I went on the attack. Her side and ribs were the most
vulnerable, so I trapped the hand she held mine with and poked at
her with wiggling fingers. She couldn’t fight back. She was too
busy trying to not slosh wine all over my couch. I truly didn’t
care if she did; I hated the couch, anyway. Her loud, desperate
laughter would have been repayment enough for its destruction.

But she didn’t know that. “The wine! The
wine!”


Oh, fuck, I forgot,” I
pretended. I released her and reached for my own glass. I took a
long drink then casually placed my glass on the table. I took her
glass, too, and put it beside mine. That gave me just enough time
to earn back her trust, which I shattered in an instant by lunging
for her and really committing to the tickling this time. She
squealed and wriggled, and I teased, “You wanted to watch me
squirm, I get to watch you squirm. Fair’s fair, isn’t
it?”

She slipped sideways down the couch, and I
followed mercilessly, until she was gasping for air, her elbows
tucked tight to her sides in defense.


There are better ways of
making me squirm!” she shouted through her laughter, and I realized
I was on top of her, my knee between her legs, looking down at an
amazing view of her breasts as gravity made them swell above the
V-neck of her T-shirt.

The moment changed in an instant. My mouth
descended on hers, and she rose up to meet it. She sank her hands
into my hair, holding me fast against her.

Kissing Penny was like kissing the sun. She
scorched through me, sizzled up the blood in my veins, and blinded
me with such white hot need that I didn’t care if I burned. I sat
up and pulled her with me. It wasn’t graceful or smooth by any
means, but it ended with my feet firmly on the floor and her knees
on either side of my lap on the sofa. I couldn’t get enough of her
mouth, her skin; I stroked my fingers down her throat, fearful I
wouldn’t be able to remember the line of it, the way the hollow
beneath her jawbone looked in the dim light.

God, I wanted her. Not in a solely sexual
way. I wanted her to be mine, in the most Neanderthal sense of the
word. And I wanted to earn that. So there was no way I would break
her trust now, when she’d given it to me without asking anything in
return.

She pushed against my chest gently, and I
reluctantly pulled back.


Just to be clear…tonight is
not the night. Do you get my drift?”

It hadn’t occurred to me that it might have
been. Penny had been forthright from the beginning that she didn’t
take the subject of sex lightly and that we weren’t going to be
having it. I didn’t think that had changed after four dates. “I do.
We are absolutely clear.”

Relief lifted shadows of caution from her
face; I was surprised she didn’t sigh audibly. The thought that she
had even braced herself for rejection, or worse, an argument,
saddened me. Her body language and her hesitation to even assert
her position revealed that she’d been treated that way before. That
she’d become accustomed to it.


Good. But…that doesn’t mean
I don’t want to make you feel good.” She smoothed her hands across
the front of my shirt and undid the top button. I recalled with
vivid clarity her comment at the park, about giving great hand
jobs.

Surely that couldn’t be what she meant?
Could it?

I didn’t want to seem presumptuous. “You’re
making me feel pretty fucking good right now, Doll.”

I had to kiss her neck, her beautiful long
neck. So, I did, at the very base, in the little triangle between
her shoulder and her collarbone. She made a squeaky noise and
protested, “You know what I mean.” Pausing to gasp, she added, “Can
I?”

My presumption had been right? I blew out a
resigned, but thankful, exhale. “Jesus, Penny…do you think I could
turn you down?”

I couldn’t. That was the answer to that
particular question. There were very few occasions on which I would
turn down a woman who wanted to touch my penis. When she was warm
and genuine and funny? There was no chance I could resist.

Bunching her t-shirt up, I slipped my hand
beneath and found one of her bra-straps. I gave it a tug. “Is this
too forward of me?”


Not at all. I can take it
off,” she offered.

I found the hook-and-eye closure and popped
it open. Practice makes perfect, and I’d had plenty of chances to
perfect that move. A flare of dismay gripped me. I hoped she didn’t
follow that same line of thinking. After our discussion about my
night with Sophie, I didn’t want Penny wondering about other women
when she was with me.

And that was enough thinking about other
women for me, as well. The woman I wanted was in my arms, her silky
blond hair brushing my face. I fell into those soft golden strands
and tried to memorize the scent. “You smell like flowers.”

She tilted her head and all of that cornsilk
fell from my fingers. When I’d drawn her, one of my favorite
features had been her ears. They were slightly too large, and that
imperfection only added to her beauty. The delicate curve was too
tantalizing. I followed the line of it with my mouth, nibbling down
to suck on the lobe and lightly scrape it against my teeth. Her
moan surprised me; it was deep and throaty, in total contrast to
her speaking voice, which sounded the way I imagined the flavor of
cotton candy would sound were it able to speak. That moan was the
flavor of warm brandy. It could have raised my cock from the
dead.


I’ve been wanting to do
this,” I breathed as I licked and sucked my way down her neck,
“since we kissed in the park.”


And since the pool?” She
laughed, out of breath.

I chuckled. “Then, too. Giving you that kiss
on the cheek after lunch on Wednesday? Was the biggest test of my
willpower to date.”

BOOK: First Time: Ian's Story (First Time (Ian) Book 1)
7.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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