Losing It: A Collection of VCards (7 page)

I don't say anything, my mouth is a desert. I give a nervous smile.

He takes his time, gently exploring every bit of me. When he strips my panties away I get a panic clawing inside me. Scooping me out.

Tight breaths come and John grasps my chin. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

I nod too quickly.

I want this. But I'm scared.

“I know you're scared,” he guesses easily, “But remember, he never got this far. It's me, Tiff.”

I allow my legs open and when this finger breaches my entrance I'm so tight with tension I shake. Then he dips inside me and there's no pain.

My eyes pop open. “John.”

His finger stops.

“I love it,” I say and his smile nearly breaks his face.

Mine matches. “Good.” He says and he slowly pumps inside me, barely brushing my barrier. Soon I'm wet from the gentle penetration and John knows.

He stops and gives me a look.

I need to give him permission.

“Yes,” I say and my voice sounds breathy. Needy.

I hate it but it's also right.

John hovers above me, his elbows stabbing the cot on either side of my head. I feel wonderfully trapped.

Not by fear.

By the love I see from him.

When the first bit of him enters me I tense.

“Relax, Tiff.”

I nod and say, “I don't think slow is great for this.”

He inches deeper, the tip of him already against the proof of my virginity.

“Band-aid style.”

I nod. “Just rip through, John.”

He shakes his head. “No,” he palms the side of my head. “I'll push through but I'm not going to hurt you worse. Never you,” he says and then he rocks deeply inside me.

I feel as though I'm on fire and gasp but John remains smooth, penetrating all the way. I feel him embedded fully and let out the breath I was holding.

“Hurts,” I breathe out.

“Yes,” he says and pulls out, only to push inside me deeply again. I'm wet from his attention but tight from anxiety and my first time.

I let my legs spread wider and John swims more securely between them. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck and he rocks gently in and out of me. “Oh Tiff... you feel so good.”

He does too.

The burning and pain begin to subside, and his pace picks up. I'm so glad we took the edge off.

My hips begin to meet his and he rises away from my body on his knees and enters me like that. Our eyes meet and it's so intimate I almost can't stand it. His finger finds my clit. A spiral of pleasure begins and a low moan of gratitude escapes me.

“That okay?” he asks.

“Oh hell yes,” I say and John grins, still moving in a slow pump. My channel grabs at his penis when he withdraws and pushes back inside but his finger is doing magical things to me and a deep shift starts to build inside my lower belly. Suddenly it feels as though the biggest itch is about to be scratched and then a wave of pleasure surrounds me and narrows down around his penis in a hot throb.

“Ah!” John says softly, his head tipping back, mouth slack. “You're coming...”

“Yeah... Oh my God.... Ah…” My pussy is pulsing around him and then John leans forward, jerking my hips tight against him with a final deep thrust and then he's releasing inside me and I throw my arms back, forgetting my nervousness, being naked in front of a guy.

And best of all, I don't think about Hamilton once.

Only John.

John

I kiss Tiff on the top of her nose. “How am I ever going to come down from that.”

I fall backward on the cot. That's the most amazing thing I've ever done. On the heels of that, I definitely get how a girl could pussy-whip a guy.

That's a no-brainer.

Tiff's got me whipped and I tell her so.

“Nice, Terran.” She folds her arms across her chest, pushing her delectable tits up. My eyes track them like twin goodness.

God.

Tiff giggles. “You are really a naughty guy after all.”

I move damp hair away from her temple and tuck it behind her ear. “Nope.” I look deeply into her eyes. “But I think you're stuck with me.”

Tiff doesn't smile. “For how long, John?”

It was never anyone but Tiff. Sometimes on this earth you're born for one woman. Someone who fits you like a key to lock.

I guess I'm really lucky I found her so early.

I dip my head until our lips are almost touching.

“How about forever?” I whisper

She curls her arms around me and I press her against me.

“Okay,” she says.

I smile though she doesn't see it.

Forever begins now.

***

About the Author

Tamara Rose Blodgett is the author of over forty-five titles, including the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling novel,
A Terrible Love
, written under the pen name Marata Eros. Tamara writes a variety of dark fiction in the genres of erotica, fantasy, romance sci-fi and suspense. She lives in South Dakota with her family and enjoys interacting with her readers.

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His First Everything

By

Stacey Wallace Benefiel

An extended scene from
Found

Penny

Fake Kent Hahn’s kidnapping makes the news, of course. We all sit around in the lounge chugging Retro water and watching the coverage by twelve different stations on one gigantic TV. In my weird state of totally spent and spazzed out on adrenaline, I take only a tiny bit of pleasure in seeing the replay of a handcuffed Darren being led to a cop car by a short, curvy female officer. She bonks his head against the door frame on his way into the back seat. Clemmon Wayne Dansbury leaves in an ambulance, headed back to the mental hospital he’d disappeared from the month before.

“I have a billion questions for you,” Christopher says, finishing off one bottle of water and cracking open another. “But it can wait for tomorrow, can’t it?” He looks like I feel.

“Yes,” Wyatt answers for me, and I have to admit I don’t mind it. “We have questions too.” He slides his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer. “But before we all head to bed, there is one thing I’d like you to take a look at. Microscreen down.” It flips down. “TV frequency.” The television goes blank and then shows us what is on his Ret-tech. “Most recent photo.”

Darren’s Crazy Conspiracy Wall comes up. “Arrow,” Wyatt says, and he directs the arrow that appears by sight over to the photo of Maud Lavoie. “Know anything about this, Christopher? Ben? Mel?”

“Where was this taken?” Melody asks from her own body as Raleigh naps beside her.

I snort. “Two days ago … this evening, at Darren’s place.”

“Tech this and the address to Phoebe, we’ll go investigate tonight.”

“You know, you could wait until tomorrow,” Wyatt says, smiling at his sister.

“Please,” Melody and Phoebe say in unison, already getting up and putting their shoes back on.

Melody leans over and gently shakes Raleigh. “You might as well camp out here tonight. Michael is going to be up every hour on the hour.”

Raleigh grins. “The baby is going to wake up, or Avery and Zellie are going to be all in his grill seeing if he’s breathing every hour on the hour?”

“Dude,” Ben says. “The kid was gassed, paused, and rewound on his first day of life. Shit.”

“Welcome to the family!” I joke, and instead of chastising me for being an uncouth loud mouth, everyone laughs and I feel like I belong.

I could get used to this.

Wyatt leans down. “Don’t fall asleep just yet. Wait until I kiss you goodnight,” he whispers in my ear.

I’m awake.

I get to my feet, dragging him up, bee-lining it for the stairs.

***

I lean into Wyatt’s firm chest, resting my cheek on him, his heart pounding against my skin. He’s standing with his back to the green door of my room. I’m still wearing the blue scrubs – the only detail of my glimpse that has been skewed so far.

I look up and take in his wavy brown hair, the way it curls over his ears and always looks like it needs a trim. My fingers beg to touch it. I hook my thumbs through the belt loops on his pants, making myself wait.

His deep hazel eyes watch me. The lashes surrounding them are so long they cast a shadow, adding smolder to his gaze. I want him. I want those eyelashes tickling, fluttering over my jaw line as he kisses my collarbone with his full, ripe lips.

I go up on my tiptoes and Wyatt’s big warm hands cup my face. He looks at my mouth, his stare a mixture of desire and apology, like he’s still not sure I accept him. I grab onto his hips and draw him nearer, closing the distance between his mouth and mine. I kiss him gently and then he reciprocates, the pressure deepening.

Reaching back, Wyatt turns the knob and opens the door. We tumble into my room, falling to the floor still attached, our legs tangled, our lips locked, my hands pressed to the taut flesh of his stomach. He wraps his arms around me and scoots us further into the room and then kicks the door closed.

Wyatt teases my tongue with his, drawing me out, revving me up as he slides his fingers underneath my shirt, his touch light and searching. He pauses just below the underwire of my bra.

I sit up, straddling him, and pull my shirt off over my head, loving the feeling of his eyes tracking my every move. I reposition his hands on me, higher. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.

“Not a chance,” he says, his voice breathless. Wyatt skims his fingertips between the silky cup of my bra and my breasts, exploring, pulling the fabric down.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” I ask, my own voice thin and airy. I fall forward, bracing my hands on his broad shoulders. My hair creating a curtain around our faces. He cranes his neck, his mouth meeting mine.

“I promise I haven’t. You’re my first everything.” I feel his lips draw up into a smile. “Although, I suppose if you think about doing something non-stop, it takes the edge off when your fantasies become reality.”

“Did you think about me doing this?” I ask, running my tongue along his lips, sliding my hand down between us and unbuttoning his pants.

Wyatt nuzzles my neck and kisses his way across my chest. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

“Or body language.” I move my hand lower, past the waistband of his boxer briefs and take hold of him, stroking him gently.

Wyatt rests his head back against the floor and closes his eyes. “I didn’t know your touch was going to feel so bueno, though. Your hand is much softer than mine.” A sly grin slides across his mouth.

“Take your shirt off,” I say, continuing to touch him gently while he quickly complies. When he’s flat on his back with his eyes closed again, I use my free hand to tug his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs. At the sight of Wyatt’s nearly naked body, I’m overcome with two feelings – desire, which is to be expected, I mean he’s the most beautiful guy I’ve ever laid eyes on, and sadness, because he’s getting me as his first. If I was a better person, if I wasn’t so selfish … I wouldn’t let him be loved by such a damaged, scarred, mixed-up girl.

“Stop overthinking things, Pen,” Wyatt says, reaching out and running his fingertips lightly over my arms. “You’re not supposed to regret doing things until after they’ve passed.”

“Shut up,” I whisper, climbing off of him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you sto—”

I push the scrub pants down over my hips and let them fall to the floor.

“Oh.”

A smile plays on my lips, giving me the courage to take off my bra and underwear. I’ve never been completely naked in front of a guy. I quickly check to see if Wyatt is grossed out by all of the soft, red cuts I’ve marked my body with, but he’s not even looking at me. Wyatt is kicking out of his pants and boxers and getting his legs all caught up.

“Stupid pants,” he mutters, finally freeing himself. “Why are they even a thing? They serve zero point.”

Then he does look at me.

And he sees me, really.

I resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest or make a sarcastic comment.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

“So are you.” I kneel on the floor.

“Sure you don’t mean ruggedly handsome?” he asks, grinning.

“I’m sure.” I take his hand in mine. Time for my least favorite part of this whole exchange, but it has to be done, especially because I haven’t always been diligent about it before. “So, we need to use protection…” I start.

Wyatt reaches above his head, underneath Elle’s bed and pulls out a condom. “Of course.” He puts it on without any missteps, which makes me think he’s been practicing. My heart swells.

I’m such a weirdo.

I pounce on him, smashing my mouth into his at the same time I’m climbing back on top of him.

Wyatt’s hands find my hips and I widen my legs. He lowers me down and I take him inside of me, both of us gasping a little at first contact.

“This isn’t going to last very long,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes closed.

“It’s chido,” I say, rolling my hips and pushing him in deeper. I gauge his expression, waiting for his face to sort of go blank and his body to give up to me. “You’re … perfect.”

My words do the trick. Wyatt opens his eyes and stares up at me, vulnerable. “I…” he says, before grasping my hips firmly and holding me steady. He thrusts into me one last time and then we both stop moving for a second, letting the moment be.

We do each other a favor and don’t say “I love you.” Because we don’t, not yet anyway. Even the fact that I’m considering the possibility … it’s new. He makes me feel new.

I execute a not so graceful dismount, my legs are shaky as hell, and lay down next to him.

Wyatt grabs the duvet from my bed and drags it over us.

“Do you feel any different?” I say, resting my head on his chest, snuggled up next to him.

He turns his face toward me and kisses my forehead. “I feel … bueno. Happy.” He chuckles. “Included? Which is … weird, but whatever.”

“No, I get it. It’s a rite of passage. Or it should be, at least.” I lightly trace the stubble along his jaw with my fingertip. “I was happy to, uh, go through that with you?” Now I’m the dork who’s chuckling, but then I realize something. “It was my first time being someone else’s first time.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Wyatt drawls and pulls me closer, “it’s refreshing to get back to basics?”

I slap him on the chest and then roll him on top of me. “Keep it simple, stupid.”

Wyatt catches on quick.

***