Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“We have an hour,” Matt said as we wormed our way through the parking lot. “Since your mom will be at post-prom, we won’t be allowed to leave early. And you have a curfew, so this is our only chance.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
We had talked about it, but we didn’t make plans beyond getting a condom.
“Doesn’t matter.” He opened my door. “The west side of Johnson’s place?”
I nodded. There was a farm lane that no one used since Oren Johnson passed the previous year. His wife hadn’t hired anyone to take care of the ranch, so everything was a neglected mess. My dad said it was only a matter of time before his dad bought the fifty acres from Mrs. Johnson.
Matt and I had parked there a handful of times to make out.
No heavy petting.
No removing clothes.
Not even a hickey.
We didn’t speak a word on the ten-minute drive. I was nervous, but excited. I just wanted to get it over with. Honestly, I was looking forward to my second, third, or tenth time more than the first. Nerves sucked because we both had them. There was no one to soothe the tension—to be the teacher. We were two hormonally jacked-up teenagers eager to take the ultimate rite of passage into adulthood.
And we were clueless.
Matt parked and killed the engine. “I don’t have a back seat.”
I grinned with a nervous laugh. “Uh, yeah, I know.”
“So,” he scraped his teeth across his lower lip, “I’ll sit in that seat and …” He eyed me.
I nodded a half dozen times. “And I’ll …” I couldn’t even say it.
I’ll straddle your lap and ride you.
We used nods more than words to communicate. Matt stepped out of the car and walked around the front, nervously pumping his fists. He opened my door and helped me out before taking my place. Then he retrieved the condom from his wallet and set it on the dash while I reached for the zipper of my dress and scanned and listened for cars in the distance.
“Your dad’s going to kill me,” he mumbled when I kicked off my shoes and unzipped my dress.
“My dad is a strict Ten Commandment follower. He won’t kill you. And why do you think he’s going to find out?” I stepped out of my dress and draped it over the open door.
“Sarah,” he whispered, his eyes the size of saucers as he wet his lips.
Matthew Cory was the coolest kid in school.
Smart.
Talented.
And every girl was beside herself with envy that he was my boyfriend. He bled confidence in everything he did.
But staring at me in nothing but a strapless bra and sexy underwear as I removed my pantyhose, he looked ready to crap his pants. I had no clue what I was doing. I just knew I wanted to do it.
“You’ve seen me in a swimsuit.” I nervously laughed.
He slowly shook his head. “A one-piece.”
“Are you going to do it with your clothes on?”
Matt glanced down as if he didn’t know he still had them on. Then he wriggled out of his jacket and unbuttoned his bowtie. When he reached for the top button of his shirt, I ducked my head to climb inside, straddling his lap.
“Let me.” I bit my lip, unbuttoning it.
Everything felt forced and robotic as he rested his hands at his sides.
“You can touch me,” I said with heat crawling along my skin from my chest to my face, and my hands shook while unbuttoning his shirt. “Take off my bra,” I whispered before kissing him. My voice trembled despite my efforts to feign confidence.
I wanted him to be the one taking charge or at least pretending to do it.
He fumbled my bra, failing to unhook it. A groan of frustration rumbled through his chest when he realized he couldn’t kiss me and simultaneously remove my bra. Maybe that only happened in the movies.
“Just leave it on and lie down,” he said in a clipped tone, running his hands through his hair with a long sigh. “In case we hear someone coming.”
I nodded, reaching between us to unzip his pants. His breaths came fast and heavy over my face. When I saw his erection straining against his white briefs, I lifted my gaze to him.
I was so nervous.
He leaned forward, grabbing the condom. With hands as shaky as mine, he tried to rip it open.
“Want me to try?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got it.” He pulled the round ring from the foil packet and held it between his fingers while releasing his erection from his briefs.
I tried not to stare, but I failed.
When I flitted my gaze to him, we stared at each other for a brief moment, and vulnerability bled from his tense expression.
If he was embarrassed, he shouldn’t have been. I had no one to compare him to, but his part looked big.