Chapter Seven

Joy

My head is spinning, and I can't stop smiling. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in Steven's arms, feeling the heat of his touch, the way he looked at me like he'd been waiting for this moment as long as I have. I've imagined it so many times, but now that it's real… it's different. Better.

I'm lying on my couch, legs curled under me, staring at my phone, just waiting for Erica to call. She and Dad are still in France, living their best lives on some romantic cruise, and even though I miss her, I'm glad they're having fun. They deserve it. I deserve this, too.

My phone buzzes, and I jump, realizing I've been so deep in thought that I completely zoned out. I swipe up and see Erica's name on the screen. Finally. I press the video call button and wait for the screen to load.

"Hey!" Erica's face pops up, all smiles and sun-kissed from their trip. Dad's next to her, grinning like a goofball, his arm slung over her shoulder.

"Hey, you two! How's France?" I lean back into the couch, trying to keep my voice casual. I can't let them see how excited I am—definitely not for the reason they think.

"It's beautiful!" Erica gushes, and Dad nods in agreement. "We've been eating way too much bread, though. I think I'm going to have to go on a diet when we get back."

"Please, you look great," I laugh. "Enjoy the carbs while you can."

Dad chuckles, shaking his head. "She's been making us walk everywhere to burn it off. I think I'm losing weight over here."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right. You're probably just eating your way through every bakery you see."

"You know me too well," Dad says, winking at the camera.

They both look so happy, so relaxed, and for a second, I almost forget the knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach. Because I know what's coming next, and I'm not ready. Not even close.

"So," Erica starts, leaning closer to the camera, "what's new with you? Anything exciting happen while we were gone?"

I freeze. My mind flashes to last night—Steven's hands, his lips, the way he made me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered. But I can't tell them that. Not yet.

"Nah, nothing special. Just the usual—work, school, you know." I shrug, hoping they'll let it slide.

"Come on, Joy," Erica teases. "You didn't get into any trouble while we were gone?"

I laugh, forcing myself to play along. "No trouble, I swear. I'm a model citizen."

"Yeah, right," Dad chimes in. "You're my daughter. I know better than that."

I grin, but inside, I'm screaming. If only he knew. If only he had any idea what's been happening while they've been off on their romantic getaway.

"Oh, by the way," Erica says, cutting into my thoughts. "Our flight got delayed. We won't be back until tomorrow morning now."

"Oh, no big deal," I say, trying to sound casual. "You'll be home soon enough."

"Yeah, not soon enough for me," Dad jokes, pulling Erica closer. "I'm ready to sleep in my own bed again."

I give him a small smile. "Yeah, I bet."

They chat a little longer about their trip, the sights they've seen, and the food they've eaten, but my mind is somewhere else entirely. As much as I love them, I can't stop thinking about Steven. How can I keep this secret from Dad? He's going to freak out when he finds out, and I know he will. But he's got no room to complain, right? He's dating Erica, and she's only a year older than me.

If he can be with my best friend, then what's the big deal about me and Steven? The age gap's basically the same, and besides, it's not like I went looking for this. It just… happened.

Before I know it, Erica and Dad are saying goodbye, promising to call when they land, and I'm left staring at my phone, the weight of everything settling over me. I love my dad, but I'm terrified of how he's going to react when he finds out about Steven. I don't want to disappoint him. I don't want to lose him.

But I can't ignore what's happening between Steven and me. It's too real, too strong.

I sigh, pushing myself off the couch. I need to do something, anything, to keep my mind off this mess. Cooking always helps. I head into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, trying to figure out what to make for dinner. Something simple, maybe pasta or stir-fry. I'm just pulling out some veggies when there's a knock at the door.

I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. I don't get a lot of visitors. It can't be Erica or Dad—they're still halfway across the world.

My stomach flips, and I hurry to the door, peeking through the peephole. And there he is. Steven.

I open the door, and he's standing there, holding a pizza box, that lazy, crooked smile on his face.

"Hey," he says, his voice low and warm. "I missed you."

My heart stutters in my chest. I can't help but smile back, my body instantly reacting to him. "I missed you too. What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, stepping inside like he belongs here—which, honestly, he kind of does. "I thought maybe we could have a pizza and movie night. You know, something easy."

I close the door behind him, my pulse racing. "You brought pizza?"

"Of course. Your favorite." He sets the box on the counter, leaning in close enough for me to catch his scent—clean, masculine, with just a hint of motor oil. It's comforting, familiar, and intoxicating all at once.

"You really know how to win a girl over," I tease, reaching up on my toes to kiss him lightly. The touch of his lips sends a shiver down my spine, and I pull back, grinning.

"Come on," I say, grabbing some plates. "Let's eat."

We settle onto the couch, the pizza box open between us, and some random movie playing in the background. But I can barely focus on the movie, barely taste the pizza. All I can think about is Steven sitting next to me, his thigh brushing against mine, the heat of his body drawing me in.

Eventually, the movie fades into the background completely, and we're just sitting there, lost in each other's company. I turn to look at him, and his eyes are already on me, dark and intense. The air between us feels heavy, charged with electricity, and before I know it, we're kissing again—deeper this time, more urgent.

I melt into him, his hands sliding up my back, pulling me closer. Every touch, every kiss feels like fire on my skin, and I can't get enough. I know in that moment that this is it. I want it to be him that I experience everything with. Gently, I pull away, turning my whole body toward him and pressing my hand to his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. His eyes meet mine, soft and questioning, and I know I need to say this. I need him to understand.

"Steven," I begin, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. "There's something I need to tell you."

His brow furrows, and he shifts, turning on his side so we're face to face. "What is it, Joy?"

I take a breath, gathering the courage. It's not that I'm scared of how he'll react—it's just that saying it out loud feels so vulnerable, like I'm laying my whole heart bare in front of him.

"I've never been with anyone before." The words hang in the air between us, and I watch as they sink in. His eyes widen, not in shock, but in understanding, like he's putting pieces of a puzzle together.

"You mean—" he starts, his voice careful, not wanting to assume too much.

"I've never been with anyone," I repeat, more firmly this time. "Not like this. Not with anyone. I've waited."

He looks at me, really looks at me, and I see the realization wash over him. He doesn't speak for a moment, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from my face, his touch gentle, almost reverent.

"I didn't know," he finally says, his voice low, a hint of something raw beneath it. "I didn't realize you were waiting. I knew you were inexperienced, but I never thought I'd be the first person to touch you."

"I was waiting," I whisper, feeling my chest tighten with emotion. "I've always wanted it to be with someone who felt right. Someone who I knew cared about me. And for the last two years, Steven, I've known that person is you.

"You've waited for me for two years?"

I nod, feeling my cheeks flush. "Yeah. Since that night after that horrible date. That was why it was horrible too. He didn't appreciate that I wouldn't put out. But, when you picked me up and you told me I deserved better something clicked for me. Ever since then, I've known. I want it to be you."

Steven's quiet for a moment, his eyes searching mine like he's trying to find the right words. I can see the conflict in his expression—the protective side of him warring with the desire that's always been there, just beneath the surface.

"Joy," he breathes out, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, pulling me closer so our foreheads rest together. "I don't even know what to say. I've tried to stay away from you for so long because I didn't want to hurt you. You deserve more than anything I could give you."

"You're wrong," I say softly, shaking my head. "You're everything I want. I've waited because I knew it would be you. I didn't want anyone else."

His lips brush against mine, tender and slow, as if he's still trying to wrap his head around everything I just told him. When he pulls back, his eyes are full of emotion; love, need, and something deeper that I can't even find the words for. He understands what this means to me, to us.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispers. "I just want to make you happy."

"You already do," I say, leaning into him. "You always have, as long as I've known you. Steven, I want it to be tonight."

"Are you sure?" He rubs a thumb over my skin. "We don't have to rush. I would wait as long as you want. I'd wait forever for you."

"I really want to," I say. "More than anything."

He stares in my eyes for a second as if making sure he sees no doubt. "Okay," he stands up pulling me with him, "lead the way."

With a giddy smile and butterflies in my stomach, I lead him up to my room, momentarily grateful that I cleaned it yesterday. When we get inside, he gently closes the door behind him and pulls me toward the bed.

"We should probably get rid of these, then."

Before I can ask what he means, his hands are on the waist of my pants. In a few seconds, he's got them undone and he pulls them down my thighs. I lift my hips and in the next moment, they're on the floor. I wore no panties today, so my lower half is bared to his eyes. He takes a second to soak me in and then, he reaches for the hem of my shirt, bringing it up and over my head. That leaves me lying back in front of him in just a bra. He pulls off his shirt and reaches for my bra, but I point at his legs.

"Your pants, too," I breathe, unable to take my eyes off of his muscular chest.

"So impatient," he says as he gives me what I'm asking for.

He shoves down his pants and boxers, revealing his semi-hard cock. It looks different from this angle, jutting out from his body and firming up under my gaze. Before I know what I'm doing, I reach out and touch, wrapping my hand around him and giving him an experimental stroke. I marvel at the way he continues to thicken beneath my touch.

"So impatient," he repeats, his voice a little choked as he reaches out to unclasp my bra.

When I let go of him to allow him to toss it aside, he hooks his hands under my knees and spreads my legs, bringing my knees to my chest. I shudder as he swipes a finger through the wetness of my folds.

"Please," I whine, not even sure what I'm asking for.

"You're such an eager little thing," Steven tells me, leaning down to place a kiss between my legs. "I'll take care of you. Just relax, darling."

"Okay," I say, tendrils of arousal spreading through me at the sound of the pet name.

With one hand on my hip, he reaches down and teases my opening for a moment. Then, he withdraws, leaving me aching for his touch. I'm not left for long, because after a few seconds, the bed shifts and I feel the tip of his cock pressed against my slit. He leans over me and I bring my eyes up to his losing myself in his gaze.

"Are you ready for me?" he whispers.

"Yes, Steven," I whimper. "I'm ready."

As soon as I give permission, Steven slowly sinks into me. I gasp, my nails scraping against his back. I can feel every inch of him, my pussy gripping his length as he fills me up.

After a few seconds, he bottoms out. Then, after a beat, he pulls almost completely out and plunges back in. It feels like all the breath is stolen from my lungs. I'm so full of him, and pleasure spreads through all of me. Before I'm able to process the feeling, he's pulling out and pushing back in again. Each stroke is slow and deep and so fucking delicious.

"You're so tight," he groans in my ear, "and so wet. You really wanted this, didn't you?"

"Uh huh," I confirm, unable to string together a more coherent response. I feel brainless, the only thing on my mind is the intense pleasure that Steven's giving me.

As he's plunging into me, picking up his pace with each thrust, he reaches down to fondle my breast. His fingertips find the already-hardened nub of my nipple, tweaking it gently at first, then harder when I moan in ecstasy. Somehow, he manages to make this already insanely good experience even better.

"I love your body," he groans, his voice low and red-hot. "You're perfect, Joy."

I make a noise of acknowledgment—a half moan, half scream kind of sound. Then, as a reward, the hand he has on my hip shifts to my clit. My head falls back as he rubs circles against the bundle of nerves.

With all of the attention he's giving me, I stand no chance of holding on much longer. I rocket toward my orgasm. It builds quickly and without my permission. Pressure collects in my stomach and my toes curl. As my climax starts to take hold of me, my nails scrape against the desk.

"Are you coming?" Steven groans, continuing to pound into me as my body tightens around him.

I gasp, squeezing my eyes shut as waves of pleasure wash over me. I can't catch my breath, my chest heaving as I experience unrestrained, uninhibited happiness. It's even better than the other day in his office.

"Joy, fuck," Steven growls as his thrusts lose rhythm and become maddened with passion. "Fuck, you're so damn perfect." With a low moan, his hips jerk and then still inside of me as he empties in me. A warmth floods my core and the sensation feels like it spreads to my chest as my whole body heats with the love I feel for him.

The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I think I love you."

He freezes, his chest heaving, his eyes finding mine. "I know I love you." A smile blooms over my face and our foreheads connect as we both catch our breath.

There is one thought in my head as Steven rolls off of me and pulls me close.

I want to live in this man's arms forever.