The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(327)

Trip slid out of me with a grunt and rolled over, but still he pressed close against my side. He pulled the blanket up around us, trying to get me to stop shaking. “Don’t be sorry. It’s our first time together.” He let out a little laugh and continued, “I mean, truth be told, I’m a little nervous, too. Was I rushing it?”

I put an arm across my face to stop myself from crying at the sweetness of his words. “God, no, Trip, not at all. You’re...”

Amazing. Incredible.

“...You’re doing everything right, really. I guess I’m just freaked out because it’s my first time, you know?”

Trip started to say that it was alright, but then abruptly, he sat up just then and looked at me.

“Wait. You mean our first time, right? As in you and I have never done this with each other, right?”

I looked at Trip like he was from another planet. What, did he think I’d been sleeping around? “What do you mean?”

“I mean Cooper Benedict, Layla. Don’t try and tell me you guys never-”

His face changed just then as his jaw went slack and understanding dawned across the rest of his features. “Oh, Jesus. You’re telling me that this is, that you and me, that you never-”

“Yeah,” I said, embarrassed. “I thought you knew.”

He let out with a heavy breath and then settled back in against my side. He threw an arm across my waist and pulled me close against him, whispering in my ear, “Layla, I’m so sorry. I would have- I wouldn’t have just- Jesus! I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

My body had stopped shuddering by then, but the tenderness of his apology and the way he was holding me started the tears flowing. I swiped at my face, trying to disguise my emotional outburst. Jeez, I’d gone from sex kitten to bundle of nerves to weeping crybaby inside of five minutes. Trip was going to think I was psychotic. “Don’t be sorry. You were great, really. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. I just thought you knew.”

“I should have known. Layla, I never- Babe, wait. Are you crying?”

I answered without thinking, “No,” which was an obvious lie.

Trip rolled over, angling the top half of his body over mine, looking me in the eyes.

“Oh, God. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He dropped his face to mine, kissing my tears away, whispering his apologies over and over again. His lips found mine, kissing me so gently, so sweetly.

He peppered his kisses with softly spoken avowals of affection, everything from “I’m sorry” to “I’m an idiot” to “Did I hurt you?” But the one that really got me, the one that just about completely killed me, was when he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and whispered, “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”

And then I knew.

I looked into his eyes- those searching, hopeful, beautiful blue eyes- and I knew that at least for that one night... he was mine. Even if he didn’t admit it out loud, even if it wasn’t forever, even if it was just for that one moment- that one glorious, blessed moment- Trip Wilmington had actually fallen in love with me.

The sweetness of his words, combined with the gentleness of his lips should have broken me, sent me into a full-on bawling fit. But instead, the endearments served to melt me in a way his hands and mouth had tried to just moments before. I felt myself heating up again, back on the Trip Wilmington roller coaster ride all over again.

I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back, loving the feel of his bare skin against mine. He tangled his hands in my hair as I lightly raked my nails over his back and I could feel him harden again. It didn’t freak me out this time. It felt empowering, the way I could turn him on so easily just by kissing him, touching him, drive him crazy. His tongue plunged into my mouth, his hands touching every part of me within reach and I met his hunger, grasping his shoulders and arching my back toward his body, writhing against him with that familiar, aching need.

He buried his head in my neck before I heard him whisper, “Ah. There’s my girl,” the sound of his throaty laugh sending shivers down my spine, this time in a good way. I kissed him then, hot and searching, my mind and body giving over to him completely, my fears crumbling against the assault of his sweet mouth against mine.

His palm cupped my breast before replacing his roving hand with his lips, his expert mouth drawing its tip between his teeth lightly, teasing me, slaying me with his gifted tongue. Just when I thought I was going to die, he moved on to the other one, giving it the same treatment. The feel of his mouth on my bare skin was phenomenal, turning every inch of my body into a quivering mass of pure sensation, my nerve endings on the verge of exploding.

I almost passed out when his fingers slid between my thighs, gently easing one into me, sending a hot current through my body, every molecule threatening to detonate. I pressed myself against his hand, which sent us both completely over the edge, Trip’s body doubling over, his raspy voice breaking when he laughed and begged, “Jesus, stop moving or I’m not gonna make it! You’re killing me.”

Ha! I was killing him? How enthralling, knowing I was able to do that!

There I was, Layla Warren: Sex Goddess.

I’d managed the unthinkable task of turning Trip Wilmington into a defenseless, panting piece of mortal flesh. I guessed he was human after all and it made me love him all the more. And being wrapped up in the arms of someone you love is just about the greatest feeling in the whole wide world. I finally understood why sex was such a big deal. Because at that moment, all I could think about was how I wanted to be as close to him as possible, to feel him inside me- wanting me, making love with me.

There was no room for nervousness this time as he positioned his body over me again and aligned his hips over mine, his hardened length straining toward my body, waiting this time, excruciating, unyielding, holding out with a torture that consumed us both.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, crushing us closer together, surprising him with the effect my movement had on him. He lifted his face just long enough to shoot an impressed look my way, which had the intended result of cracking me up.

“Oh, just do it already!” I laughed out, and Trip didn’t wait for me to change my mind. He slid into me slowly, checking my reaction every centimeter along the way. Huh. It didn’t hurt so much this time. It still felt weird, but once he was all the way in there and started to move inside me, it actually started to feel... pretty good.

Then, it started to feel really good.

And then, it started to feel amazing!

He started driving into me at a steady pace and I was able to match his movements with my own, raising my hips toward his demanding cadence. I could hear him breathing hard against my ear, aching, dying for me, causing me to lose my mind. I decided to return the favor, offering some noises of my own. When I did, Trip started trembling all over, wrapping his arms around me like a vise and ramming into me rhythmically; faster, harder. I probably should have been in some state of orgasmic euphoria or something, but what I was really consumed with at that moment was how fascinating it really was. Like, you hear about sex all the time, but there we were, actually doing it! We were having sex!

His voice brought me back to him, seductive and rough in my ear when he whispered, “God. You feel so good,” which caught me by such surprise that I almost died.

I completely lost whatever hold I’d maintained over my own control as I groaned louder, arching my entire body up to his, smashing myself against his smooth, sweat-slicked chest, watching the muscles of his jaw clench as he dropped his head and cursed under his breath.

I knew I had driven him over the edge because he started slamming into me harder, his hand at the small of my back lifting me to him, rigid and insistent and deep inside of me, his string of half-words and animal noises rocking me to my very core. His hips crashing against mine, his body pounding away at me, his breathing ragged, losing control, sinking, soaring, dying, his voice finally rasping out, “Oh God... I can’t...” before letting out with a final, tortured groan, his shaft quaking fiercely inside of me again and again and again, his arms ultimately giving out from the effort of coming so violently. He collapsed on top of me, the full weight of his spent body on top of mine; panting, laughing, growling.

I could barely breathe, but I figured there were worse ways to go. Had my life been smothered out at that moment, I would have died a happy girl. I shifted to try and find some breathing room, and Trip must have taken the hint. He let out a heavy breath then rolled over onto his back, grinning ear to ear, dropping an arm over his face and exclaiming, “Holy shit!”

I was still flying high at that moment, registering the delicious afterglow of what had just transpired between us. I finally saw what all the fuss was about. I pulled the blanket up to my neck and said, “Nice, Chester. I always dreamed my first time would end with a sweaty guy yelling obscenities.”

He laughed his ass off, snuggling into me, a heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me to face him, both of us trying to get our breathing back to normal. “Sorry. But christ! I don’t know what else to say.”

I nestled in against his arm, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Hmm. Well, let’s see. I let you get me drunk and deflower me out here in the wilderness... How ‘bout thank you, you ingrate?”