Hell And Back(62)

“I don’t know yet. Come here and let me try something.”

Walking to her, I see something in her eyes I don’t think I’ve ever seen.

Once I make it to the examining table, I move between her legs. I’m waiting for her to put her hand in my hair or under my shirt, but instead she palms my dick. Squeezes it just a bit, just enough he almost wakes up to a full salute.

“Umm.” I look at her and now I get what that look in her eyes is. It’s lust, it’s want, it’s need.

“Brenda is keeping Lilah tonight. They are going to visit her friend and stay in a hotel all night ordering room service and movies. Brenda was more excited than Lilah.”

I swallow the huge rock that seems to be blocking my airways right now.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do.” I push her hair behind her ears so I can see her whole face.

“I want you, Jackson. I want to do this with you. Don’t you want me, too?” She looks up at me, and I can see the vulnerability in her eyes.

“I want nothing more than to make love to you. I’ve dreamed about it. I’ve fantasized about it,” I tell her while holding her face in my hands and kissing her.

“Then let’s get out of here.” She pushes me away to jump off the examining table as she grabs her purse and pulls me out of the room.

I’m in the car driving, and I’m a nervous wreck. It’s almost like this is my first time.

I don’t want to push myself on her. I want to go slow with her. I want to cherish her. I want to worship her.

We make it home in almost record time. Turning off the truck, I look over at her. “You can always change your mind.”

She turns her body, putting her back to the door. “I know I can, and I know if I do you will stop. But I don’t want to stop this time. I want it to be you.” Without waiting for my answer, she turns to open the door and is practically sprinting into the house.

Dumping the purse at the door, she turns around. “Can you give me ten minutes, maybe fifteen, before you come up?” Then she runs up the stairs, leaving me here silently laughing.

I lock the door, close the curtains, check the windows, and fifteen minutes later, or maybe thirteen—I don’t know at this point as it was the longest window check I ever did in my life—I head upstairs.

My palms are sweaty with nerves, my heart beating so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears.

Her bedroom door is closed, so I knock once, turning the handle, and walking in.

The sight that greets me makes me stop. The room is dark with candles lit everywhere on every single surface. Tall candles, short candles, the glow bathing the room in a warm yellow.

The bed is made all in white, which is different from the brown cover that was on her bed this morning. All of that takes a backseat, though, to the woman standing in the middle of the room.

Holding her hands in front of her, I can see her chest rising and falling with each breath she takes.

Her blonde hair cascades down around her shoulders. But as I take in what she’s wearing, I’m almost brought to my knees.

She stands before me in white. A white lace bra holds her now fuller breasts, a tiny blue bow nestled between the soft swells of her cleavage. This bra is more like a cropped tank top, the lace extending down from her breasts and clinging to her torso, stopping just above her belly button.

A slash of skin separates the top from the panties. I trail my eyes along her tight, flat stomach and down to the matching panties. A sheer, lacy triangle is all that hides her from me.

She looks like a vision in white. She is a fucking wet dream, and she looks like a fucking angel. My angel.

I can’t find the words to tell her how beautiful she is. I just stare at her, calming my nerves and barely restraining myself from picking her up and throwing her on the bed.

“Brenda bought this for me. I know I don’t fill it out right.” She looks down at herself, folding her arms over her stomach. “I also have stretch marks,” she says in a soft whisper, looking to the side.

I walk into the room, closing the door behind me. No one will ever see her like this, except me.

“You’re beautiful.” I make my way to her, afraid to touch her. Afraid this isn’t really happening, afraid I’ll wake up, and it’ll all be a dream. A fucking great dream, but a dream nonetheless.

I trace my finger along the top of the bra, and my touch makes her shiver. “You’re so fucking perfect.” I lean down, kissing her neck, feeling her racing heart beat under my lips.

“I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anything you have to give me,” I say as I trail kisses along her neck, “but I’m not walking away from you.” Her hands grab my shirt, bunching it in her fists. “You’re my perfect, you’re my salvation, and you’re my everything.”