"You still think he's trouble?" I smirk, trying to look entertained by the conversation. Actually, I'm kind of hoping Bree will give me the green light.
"It's way too late for you to care about what I think." She squeezes my arm warmly, then wiggles her finger directly in my face. "Make him wear a rubber. No exceptions. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Ten minutes later, Ty slaps the paper on the wooden bar and announces loud enough for everyone around us to hear. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."
Yeah, definitely boyfriend material.
We watch his favorite movies (The Terminator, The Bourne Ultimatum, First Blood, Mad Max) and listen to my kick-ass music.
We go to The Grind together. He works out with Dawson and his teammates and I take classes.
We make healthy dinners together.
We accidentally make out in front of a kindergarten (no judging, remember?).
Three weeks in...we have sex.
It's actually pretty spontaneous. There's no set-up, and no candles, roses, dim lights or Champagne. We get back to his place after a night out and start out with a casual make-out session on the couch. I've had a few beers and he had one Bud Light and a soda, so the mood is right. Since I'm in charge of the music (damn right I am), I introduce him to Youth In Revolt. I think he appreciates the fast-paced music, because things get steamy within seconds of Ty kicking the door shut behind us.
We fool around as usual, only this time, he raises my shirt over my head at some point, leaning back down to unhook my bra. It's cool. I'm so freaking hot and ready for him right now I'm down with whatever it is he wants to do, and in-between kisses and little bites, I manage to strip him out of his shirt too.
Oh, Jesus Christ, his abs. And tattoos. Having this guy on top of me is like getting all my Christmas presents in one go. Almost too good to take.
He buries his face in my neck, biting, teasing and hitting all the right spots with his tongue, proving that he knows exactly what he's doing, that he mastered the art of pleasuring a woman long ago. Then it happens. His hand reaches down to my jeans, releasing two buttons and pulling them with his pointer fingers in one go.
I lay there in my underwear and nothing more, and I know exactly where this is going.
"I'm scared." I bite my lower lip, desperate to read his expression. I'm trying to downplay my nervousness, because I'm like, level eight hysterical right now. Normally I walk around a mellow two, even when I face stressful situations.
He flashes me a dimpled smile. "That's either the most flattering…" His gaze drops to his crotch. "Or disturbing…" He sends a slanted look toward his MMA gear at the far corner of the room. "Thing I've ever heard in bed. Why are you scared? You're not...?" He trails off.
I quickly backpedal. "Oh, no, no, no, no. No virgins in this room, unless you have a huge surprise for me." I feign laughter. "But I don't have a lot of experience and I..."
Ugh, this is so hard. Though it really shouldn't be, because Tyler is great. Scratch that—super-awesome, more like. He is so respectful and really, and I mean really, dragged it until the very last minute before he initiated sex.
I'm sure that if it were up to him, he wouldn't have spent our dates rearranging himself in restaurants, bars and movie theatre seats so that his junk wouldn’t break his zipper. Dude is seriously rocking the sexual appetite of a seventeen-year-old with those constant hard-ons. I know he's been blue-balled to the max these last few weeks. But I think he knew I had my issues with going all the way, and I'm one hundred percent sure that he'd still be cool if we waited even longer.
"I don't need you to have experience. I just need...you." He twists uncomfortably, as if this makes him feel vulnerable. "But this can wait."
Is he kidding me? It's not like I'm happy with our current arrangement. I'm a little hesitant, but I am also human, and he is also un-freaking-believably sexy.
"No, I'm good. Let's do this," I reassure. Great. Now I sound like a Girl Scout.
His shoulders shake. He’s laughing at me, or with me, but either way, he is laughing, which is not something you're supposed to do during foreplay. Even I know that.
"Fuck sex, Barbie." His lips touch mine as he speaks. His breath sends a ball of heat straight to my groin. "We can watch a movie or something."
I pull away from him, so he can look me in the eye. "I really enjoy spending time with you, hottie, but I'm ready. Like, really ready." I shimmy my hips to make a point.
"You don't have to tell me twice." His hand dives directly into my underwear, and I don't even have time to digest the fact that his thumb presses my clit before he dips a finger in. "Yup. You're ready for me," he says.