Daye, Rainey - An Unconventional Love (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (23 page)

Her heart hammering, Maggie stepped over to him and kicked off her shoes before she took his hand and allowed him to draw her down beside him. He arranged the blanket around them and then lay beside her with one arm around her shoulders and the other resting low on her hip as she laid half on her side and half on top of him on the narrow lawn chair. He tucked her head against the hollow of his shoulder and breathed softly, “Look for a falling star for us to make a wish on, Maggie.”

“What will you wish for?” she asked just as softly.

“That I never lose my dream.”

“What’s your dream?” she asked, truly curious.

“This is,” he said seriously. “Holding you in my arms.
You’re
my dream, Maggie, and I never want to lose you.”

Maggie swallowed back the emotions that his words caused her. How could she be falling in love at such a young age? And with two men, at that? But she quickly squelched that thought. She was only supposed to concentrate on the man she was with.

Lifting her face, she pressed a kiss to the edge of his jaw and then cuddled closer to him as she turned her gaze upward so that she could search the heavens for a star to make a wish upon.

“There!” Jess suddenly breathed, pointing slightly to her right. “Did you see it?”

Maggie nodded as she squeezed her eyes shut and made her wish.

Jess leaned down and kissed her forehead. “What did you wish for, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“If I tell you, then it won’t come true,” she demurred.

“I hope all your dreams come true,” he said sincerely.

She leaned up and kissed his cheek in response to those sweet words before she snuggled back against him and gazed back up at the stars. But after she caught herself swallowing her second yawn, she decided that she was way too relaxed in his arms and feared falling asleep on him, thus spoiling all the time and thought he had put into their date. Conversation would help her stay awake, and there was a question she had been burning to have an answer to for a while now.

“Will you answer a question for me?” she asked him.

“Anything,” was his quick reply.

“What are these bases that you’ve mentioned?”

“Excuse me?”

“I distinctly remember hearing the terms first and second base and was wondering what you meant by them.”

“Are you serious? You’ve never heard of the bases before?” Jess asked disbelievingly.

“Well, I know there are bases in baseball…” she replied.

He sat up on the lounge chair so that he could look her squarely in the face. The look on his face clearly showed that he thought she was teasing him. But she was truly bewildered and hoped by her expression that he knew that she was serious.

Apparently not knowing exactly how to respond, he hedged, “The bases are dating terms relating to the four
F
’s.”

“What are those?”

“Come on, Mags. Surely you know what those are even if you’ve never heard of the bases before.”

“No, really, I have no idea,” she responded earnestly.

Taking a deep breath, he seemed to choose his words carefully, as if being careful not to offend or upset her. “The bases are used by guys to indicate how well their date went. A way to let your buddies know how far you got, or a girl will use it to let a guy know just how far she is willing to go. You know, something along the lines of a guy telling his buddies ‘I scored a home run last night’ or a girl informing a guy that she doesn’t go past second.”

She still frowned in confusion. “Is it a regional thing? Maybe that’s why I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Nah, it’s pretty much a universal dating language,” Jess informed her.

“Then either the town I’m from is totally off the map, or I’ve led a truly sheltered life.”

“Your willingness to be my girlfriend shows that you haven’t been
too
sheltered,” he teased her, receiving an embarrassed smile from her in return.

She cleared her throat after reining in her mind from dwelling on those thoughts. “So you said that each base correlates with one of these four
F
’s. What are the four
F
’s?”

“They’re the first initial of a certain act,” he said, which response earned him another frown of confusion.

“What acts?”

“You can’t guess?” When she shook her head after thinking about it for a moment, he gently kissed her on the forehead, whispering that he couldn’t resist the impulse to kiss “that adorable furrow” that wrinkled her brow. He then pulled back with a tender smile and said, “Then let me demonstrate first base for you and see if you can figure out the rest on your own.”

He tenderly cupped her face in his hand and tilted it up toward him. Leaning down, he licked her lips before his tongue slowly invaded her mouth. Keeping the kiss slow and languorous, he kissed her thoroughly until she was clutching his shoulders and returning his kiss almost desperately.

He gentled the kiss and slowly pulled away from her. Resting his forehead against hers, he whispered huskily, “That was first base, sweetheart.”

“First base is kissing?” she asked, incredulous.

He laughed in response to her tone. “Yep, first base is kissing.”

“But you said it was also the four
F
’s. Now I’m even more confused.”

“Try to figure it out for yourself, honey, ’cause if I tell you, you are going to be really embarrassed at how obvious they are in hindsight. Not that I don’t love the way you blush, but I don’t like embarrassing you.”

Maggie’s brow furrowed again as she thought, so he gave her a hint. “What’s the name of the kiss we just shared?” he asked.

She looked at him in confusion, and as he gazed back at her steadily, he couldn’t seem to be able to stop himself from giving her another hint by running his tongue over his lips as he whispered, “A kiss with tongue.”

Her eyes suddenly cleared up as comprehension dawned on her. “French kissing is first base?” she breathed.

Nodding his head in agreement, he captured her lips again with his own. This time he didn’t temper his kiss and allowed his hunger for her to shine through. She rewarded him with a show of passion of her own as she just as hungrily matched his kiss. She pressed herself even closer to him and ran her hands urgently through his hair and over his back before she started pulling at his shirt to pull it out of his waistband.

“Careful, sweetheart, you’re heading for second,” he said with a deep-throated chuckle as he caught her wandering hands in his own.

“Second?” she breathed in a dazed tone.

“Second base,” he confirmed. “You were headed that way while I was still enjoying first.”

“Trying to take off your shirt is second base?” she asked, frowning in confusion again.

“Shall I demonstrate again?” he asked her solicitously, yet with a lascivious look on his face.

Breathless from that look and the wicked promise it held, she nodded eagerly as she said, “Yes, please.”

He took her back in his arms and trailed his lips over her face and neck while he proceeded to run his hands all over her body. Her head fell back as she twined her fingers in his thick blond hair and unconsciously thrust her chest out toward him. With a husky groan, he ran his hands from her shoulders to her arms before he wrapped one arm around her and leaned her back into it while his other hand came up between them and thoroughly fondled her breast.

With a cry, she arched her back even more to press her breast more fully into his hand. When he started to move his hand away, she gripped it with her own and pressed it firmly to her breast. Still suckling on her neck, he whispered, “What am I doing to you, Maggie?”

“Turning me on!” she gasped.

Chuckling, he nibbled on her earlobe and squeezed her breast in his hand before he strummed her nipple with his fingers. “What am I doing?” he repeated.

“Making me wet. Don’t stop!” she cried as his hand froze upon her breast.

“Look at me, Maggie,” he said as he raised his face away from her and forced her to look at him while he left his hand was still clutching her breast.

Maggie swallowed hard and raised her face to his. He caught her slightly glazed gaze with his own, demanding her full attention with that forceful stare. “Now concentrate on my hand,” he instructed her, and then he slowly squeezed her breast. “Concentrate!” he said sharply when her lids started to slide shut in bliss.

She opened them wide and looked deep into his hazel eyes. “Think of an
F
word that describes exactly what I am doing to you with my hand,” he instructed her as he slowly squeezed her breast in his hand before he brought his other hand up to grip her other breast.

“You’re fondling me!” she gasped out. He rewarded her by pinching her nipple before his hands traveled down her body under the blanket and spanned her waist. He then slid them over her hips so that he could lift her lower half off the lounge chair before he slid his hands around and beneath her so that he was grasping her ass in his hands. He turned them onto their sides and continued touching her, one hand trailing over her leg and then traveling back up to her waist, bunching the material of her dress in his hand as he did so while his other hand pushed the strap of her dress off her shoulder before brushing along the skin of her arm and back over to her breast.

“Give me another word to describe what I’m doing,” he instructed her. “I’m not just fondling your breasts, I’m…what?”

“You’re touching me!” she gasped.

“Give me an
F
word to describe what I’m doing. I’m touching your body so I can ‘blank’ it. Fill in the blank, honey.”

“Fuck!” she gasped.

He laughed low in his throat. “You’ve skipped ahead to home plate, sweetheart. What am I doing to your body right now? I’m ‘whating’ it?”

“Touching, stroking, fondling, petting, feeling,” she gasped out.

He leaned down then and kissed her lightly on the nose as his hands ceased their movements. “Very good, sweetheart. I was feeling your body. Or, to use the cruder term, I ‘felt you up,’” he replied with a smile.

“Huh?” she asked, dazed.

“To use the one-word
F
terms that go along with the bases, first base is Frenching, and second base is feeling. You’ve already guessed what a home run is. So any idea what third base is? I’ll give you a hint, they progress in intensity and each is much more intimate than the last.”

She bit her lower lip with her teeth as she thought about it while his hands continued to leisurely stroke her. “I would assume that third base would be oral sex, but I can’t figure out an
F
word to describe that,” she finally confessed.

He laughed then. “You would think that third base would be that, wouldn’t you? But you have to remember that the bases are basically teenage boys’ crude way of expressing how far they got with a girl. Should I demonstrate third for you?”

“Yes, please,” she practically begged and then gasped with pleasure as he placed his hand on her hip and pushed her onto her back before his hand snaked under the waistband of her silk panties and gently stroked her mound before he slowly worked a finger inside her.

“What am I doing?” he whispered against her ear as he leaned over her. “What part of my body am I using to touch you intimately?”

“Your finger!” she gasped as she tried to reach for him again.

He licked the tender flesh on her neck and nibbled on her earlobe before rasping, “To be accurate, and rather crude, I’m fingering you, sweetheart.”