19. Kenna

19

KENNA

"The best way to learn to swim is by jumpin' in the deep end." ~ Archie "Witty" Whitlock

"Night," Bryson called out from the entrance of the bar. He always made sure I got safely to my car.

"Night." I waved before climbing inside the driver's seat as a yawn claimed me.

I rolled my neck back and forth as I started the ignition. My shoulders ached. My feet hurt. Tonight had been long. Very long. Exhaustion pulled on me as I clicked my seatbelt into place and headed home.

Last night, after I'd pleasured myself, I'd fallen off to a deep sleep only to be woken up by Winnie, who had to use the bathroom an hour later. After I came back to bed, I hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. My mind was too busy processing the events that had unfolded. Not only did Sam know I still had my V-card, he also knew I was actively trying to hand it in. I spent all night into the wee hours of the morning trying to figure out how that was going to play out between us.

Tonight, I found out. Sam had always been protective of me, but his attitude at the bar tonight had been over the top. He'd been a bull ready to charge, and every man who looked in my direction was a red cape. I knew that we'd have to talk about this. I would need to tell him that he couldn't come into my work and try to intimidate my customers. In truth, he'd always done a little bit of that, but tonight it had been too much.

My only hope was that now that he was on the mend and back to work, he'd forget about my situation and get distracted by the next shiny thing he saw, which would probably be a hot blonde.

But he hadn't seemed at all interested in any of the four women who had propositioned him tonight. Could it be true that he hadn't had sex in over a year? That seemed impossible. Now that I thought about it, he hadn't been going out as much as he used to. He'd been over at my house nearly every one of my nights off. The only time he wasn't was when he was on duty. But that had been the way things were for years. His social life had never really interfered with us hanging out, mainly because I worked at a bar, which meant I worked most Friday and Saturday nights.

I had no reason to think that Sam was lying to me about his extended celibacy. He never had before. Maybe he'd finally sown his last wild oat. No. No way. Even as I thought about it, I knew that was never going to happen.

Sam Whitlock was a confirmed bachelor. He didn't have any interest in getting married, starting a family, or even being in a serious relationship. His stance on those things had never changed. No strings. No commitments. No attachments. No expectations. Those were his dating guidelines. Many a woman had tried to be the one who changed his mind, to be the exception to his rules, and they'd all failed.

As I turned the corner onto our street, my headlights shone on my front porch, and I saw Sam sitting on the top step. He lifted his head as the light hit him, and his expression looked…serious. My stomach had a funny feeling as I pulled into my driveway. The fatigue I'd been fighting all night was gone.

This wasn't the first time I'd come home from work to find Sam waiting for me; it was just that usually he did it inside my house. He had a key, and he'd let himself in and make himself at home, snuggling on the couch with Winnie. Sometimes, he waited on his porch for me, but this time, he was on mine. He was not even on the swing; he was on the steps. It felt different. More intentional, somehow.

"Hey, are you okay? Is it your leg?" I asked as I climbed out of my Jeep.

I thought he was pushing himself too much. He'd worked the kissing booth yesterday, the day he'd gotten his brace off, and he was already back at work today. He was on desk duty, but still.

"Leg's fine." He stood as I started up the steps. "I wanted to finish our conversation."

My heart was thudding in my chest wildly. The last conversation we'd had was about the women he'd not been dating over the past year. Was that what he wanted to talk about?

"What conversation?" I asked as I let us both into the house.

His answer was not immediately forthcoming because he was distracted by a wiggly bundle of fur in Corgi form. Winnie must have heard Sam out on the porch because she was even more psyched to see him than she normally was. I was apparently chopped liver because she'd barely acknowledged my existence at all.

Once Winnie was done greeting Sam and demanding his full attention, I let her out back to use the bathroom. When I turned around, Sam was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His hair was messy, which meant he'd been running his hands through it a lot. He only did that when he was thinking, or, should I say, overthinking something. Whatever he wanted to talk about was serious.

"Okay, so what's up?" I asked.

"It should be me."

My breath caught in my throat at what I thought he was suggesting. I couldn't breathe, but I managed to ask, "What should be you?"

"Your first time. It should be with me."

"You?" I couldn't believe that he was saying that.

Was it because he felt sorry for me?

Was this a pity offer?

"Yes. Me."

"No." I shook my head. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"Because you…because I…"

"Exactly. You and I. Us. If it's not me, who should it be?"

"You sound like Dr. Suess. That doesn't even make sense."

"Yes, it does." He didn't even crack a grin at my Dr. Suess reference like he normally would. He just stared at me intently. "You know it does."

He was right. It did make sense to me. But anything he said would make sense to me because I was in love with him. He wasn't in love with me, though. I knew that. But he must be attracted to me if he was not only throwing his hat in the ring for consideration but actually demanding it be him.

Was that enough?

We were a few feet away from each other, but the energy in the space between us was crackling with intensity. I could feel his stare like a physical touch. I had no doubt that he wanted to be my first. I just wasn't sure why. Was it so it couldn't be anyone else? Was it a possessive thing? If that was the case, would that be a bad thing?

"But what if it changes us?" I quietly voiced my biggest fear.

"It won't. I won't let it." I could see the fire of determination in his eyes, or maybe that was the fire of desire, or maybe it was both. Either way, it was very intense.

Confusion swirled in my head. I could barely breathe with him looking at me like he was, much less think. This wasn't how I'd imagined my first time would be. I thought it would happen naturally. Not that it would be discussed beforehand, like some sort of addendum to our friendship.

"We can't."

"Why?" he asked.

Not able to think of any other reason to say no, I said, "We've never even kissed."

I started to walk past him to go to the front door so he could see his way out, but he grabbed my wrist, spun me around, and the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. I froze, but then he cupped my face and tilted my head back, giving him better access to me. As soon as he did, his tongue slid between my lips, and I melted against him.

The kiss was gentle but firm. It was slow, but frenzied. It was cautious, but wild. It was exploratory, yet familiar. It was everything I never knew I always wanted in a kiss.

When he finally broke our kiss, I was dizzy with lust. And I wanted more. I wanted a lot more.

He rested his forehead against mine. Both of our heavy breaths intermingled as he asked, "Any other reasons?"

Yes . I knew there were a lot of other reasons, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of any. I couldn't think at all, actually. All I could do was feel.

I opened my mouth to say that there were a lot of reasons, but no sound came out.

"I want it to be me." The pad of his thumb traced along my lower lip. "It should be me. Do you want it to be me?"

Yes. Of course, I did. But what about after? What would happen after?

When I didn't answer, his hand dropped from my face, and he took a step back. "I don't want to talk you into doing something you don't want to do. But if you change your mind?—"

He started to turn toward the door, and I grabbed his hand. He looked back at me, his eyes filled with hope and passion.

"It should be you." I said, my voice shaking with nerves. "I want it to be you. It has to be you."

I wasn't sure what I expected his response to be, but when he didn't say anything and just pulled me into his arms and hugged me tighter than he'd ever hugged me before, I was surprised. Once the shock wore off, I closed my eyes and leaned into his embrace, absorbing all of his strength. I needed it because my legs felt like noodles.

As he held me, I could feel his heart beat beneath my cheek. The longer I stood in his arms, the faster and louder it beat. His hands were moving up and down my back slowly, increasing the pressure of his touch with each pass. His caresses weren't overtly sexual, but they had a very sensual effect. Just like last night, I could feel my body coming alive with arousal.

"We don't have to do anything tonight," he whispered against the top of my head.

"What? Why?" I lifted my chin up to meet his gaze. "You don't want to?"

Is that why he'd hugged me instead of kissing me again? Because he was having second thoughts?

"Of course I want to, but I don't want to rush you."

Panic began to set in on me. I'd agreed, and now he was backing out. He must have changed his mind.

I stepped out of his embrace. "Never mind. This was a bad idea."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What? Why are you saying that?"

"If you don't want to do this anymore, it's fine. Let's just forge?—"

Mid-sentence, he grabbed my hand and pressed it to the front of his sweats. Beneath my palm, I felt a very hard , very big erection.

"I want to do this. I just don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I promised him as my fingers curled around his girth. When I did, he pulsed against my hold.

His jaw tensed as he gritted out. "I would pick you up and carry you back to the room, but I don't think that fits into my recovery plan."

All I could do was nod at him because all I was thinking was, I'm touching Sam's dick . Sure, it was through his sweats, but still.

He shifted my hand from his groin and kept his fingers wrapped around my wrist as he turned and started walking down the hallway, pulling me alongside him. With each step we took, my heart beat faster. Was this actually happening? Were we actually going to have sex? Was my first time going to be with Sam?

I'd always wanted it to be. Even before I knew I was in love with him, I'd wanted it to be him. I'd dreamed about it. Fantasized about it. I'd wished on shooting stars, birthday candles, every time a clock read 11:11, and at least a hundred dollars worth of coins I'd tossed into the well. But now that it was here, I was freaking out. Seriously, it felt like my heart was going to pound its way right through my chest. I might actually be having a heart attack.

When we reached the bed, he stopped and turned toward me. His lips curled in a half-grin, and he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. He lowered down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and tugged me to him, so I was standing between his legs. His arms were wrapped around me as he hugged my waist. When I looked down, I noticed his left leg was stretched out straighter than his right.

"Are you sure that you should be doing this?"

"Yes, we should."

"I don't mean we … I mean your leg."

"I'm fine."

His eyes met mine as he tilted his head back, and I speared my fingers through his hair. He'd always loved when I scratched his scalp. He used to lay his head on my lap when we watched movies, and I'd play with his hair, running my fingers through it as my nails grazed his head. I hadn't done it for a while because I'd been trying to set up healthy boundaries, but those were out the window at this point.

I watched his jaw tick as his hands moved up my outer thighs to my hips before dipping beneath the hem of my shirt and continuing up, bringing the material with him. I lifted my arms as he pulled the shirt up and over my head. Once that was off, he unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. I held onto his shoulders as he slid the denim down my legs, and I stepped out of them.

Once they were off, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my belly. My chest was rising and falling in rapid succession as I watched his mouth trail across the waistband of my underwear to my hip, where he pressed an open-mouth kiss to each side.

My gaze remained trained on him as he reached behind my back and undid my bra, then slid the straps down my arms. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. Next, his thumbs dipped under the strap on my hip and pulled my panties down my legs. I held onto his shoulder as I stepped out of the material.

Once I was totally naked, my first instinct was to lift my arms and cover myself. If it were anyone else, I'm sure I would have. But this was Sam. Him seeing me—all of me—felt right. The way he was looking at me, like he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life, emboldened me with confidence, erasing any nerves or insecurity I might have.

"Your turn." I managed to breathe. "Strip."

A wide smile broke across his face as he pulled his shirt up and off his body. Next, he tugged his sweats and boxer briefs off and kicked them to the side. I must have forgotten to breathe because, by the time he was completely naked, I was lightheaded.

He took my hand and guided me onto the bed, so I was lying beside him.

I didn't know where to start, but I did know I was very curious about one thing. My eyes met his as I asked, "Can you do what you showed me last night?"

His nostrils flared, and his jaw ticked as he slid his hand between my legs. The moment I felt his fingers touch me, I gasped. The roughened pads of his fingertips sliding along my folds caused a burst of tingles to explode low in my belly.

"You're so wet."

"Yeah," I agreed with him, because I was.

His eyes were roaming my body as I felt pressure on my opening and realized it was his finger. He was massaging the base of my entrance. It felt…good. Really good.

My eyes closed automatically as the feel of his touch overtook me.

"Open your eyes," he commanded sharply.

Sam had never spoken to me like that before, but I liked it. I liked it a lot. I felt my sex pulse against his touch as I opened my eyes.

"Good girl. I want you to be looking at me when you come." He grinned down at me as the pressure increased, and I realized he'd put his finger inside of me.

I sucked in a startled breath as he exhaled loudly. "You are fucking tight."

"Is that bad?" I asked.

"No." He shook his head and rested his forehead against mine. "It's good. Very good."

My eyes remained locked with his as he began to rub my clit with his thumb. With every circle of his touch, pleasure fused through me, and I felt my body begin to relax and tense simultaneously. I was noticing a theme with Sam; he made me feel opposing sensations, and I loved it.

"Is that good?" he asked. "Does that feel good?"

I nodded as my hands gripped his upper arm, anchoring me to him. His eyes remained locked on mine as his finger sank deeper into me. I could feel my body begin to spasm around his digit, and when he curled his finger, it was like the time I'd been playing the slot machine in Vegas; I dropped a nickel into it, pulled the lever, and the entire machine lit up, it flashed, and the alarms went off.

That was what my body did when he tapped his finger inside of me as he brushed his thumb over the nub at the top of my sex. My first instinct as the powerful force of pleasure whipped through me with hurricane force was to close my eyes, but Sam's instruction kept me from doing that, and I was so glad it did.

Our eyes remained locked as wave after wave of climax crashed over me. I held onto him as he massaged my body internally, drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could give me until it was too much. One second, it was ecstasy, and the next, I felt too tender to touch. I was about to push his hand away, but he must have sensed it because he gently removed his finger as he lowered his head down and began to kiss me.

The kiss was soft and sweet at first. He pressed his lips against mine and pulled the bottom and then the top in between his own, sucking them seductively. But when he deepened the kiss, when his tongue slid into my mouth, my entire body felt it. Somehow, nerves all the way down to my toes were connected to my tongue as he licked and explored the recess of my mouth with masterful skill.

I may not have had sex before, but I'd done my fair share of kissing, and Sam's skill level was Olympic Gold. Even though I'd kissed at least a dozen guys, it felt like kissing Sam was my first. Maybe that's what they meant when they said you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.

The longer we kissed, the more excited I could feel Sam growing, and he wasn't alone in his desire. His erection was nestled in between my legs, and as his hips moved, it brushed along my sex. The friction of our bodies rubbing together was causing pressure to stir in my core.

My hands roamed up and down his back in desperation as I tried to silently communicate the need I was feeling. His response was to kiss me harder and deeper. Which, don't get me wrong, was amazing, but it was not what my body was screaming for.

Finally, I broke our kiss. I could barely breathe as I stammered, "Can we…I want to… I need to feel you inside of me."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked as he searched my eyes. "We can stop. We don't have to do any?—"

"No!" I protested, perhaps a little too loudly. I just really didn't want to stop.

His expression softened as he smiled down at me, clearly amused by my enthusiasm. "Do you have protection? If you don't, I can go get some next door."

"I'm on the pill," I reminded him.

He knew that I was. He'd teased me that I had an alarm set so I wouldn't forget to take it. He'd been with me when I'd gone to the pharmacy to refill my prescription.

His expression grew serious once again. "I've never had sex without a condom."

"Then it will be both our first times," I pointed out as a warm sensation rushed through me at that thought.

"Fuck," he growled as his eyes closed, and he rested his forehead against mine.

I felt his hand move between our bodies, and then I felt his mushroom head at my entrance.

"If you need me to stop, just tell me. If it hurts or if you just do?—"

"I will," I assured him.

He lifted his head back up and stared into my eyes as he shifted his hips forward, pushing past my outer barrier. And then, just like that, he was inside of me, and I was no longer a virgin.