The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (59 page)

As she reaches up and runs her fingers through my hair, my eye lids droop until they're sealed shut. I can
’
t get enough of the feeling of her hands on me, or the weight of her pressed against me, or the scent of her perfume
—
which is rich and elegant and deliciously indescribable. I also cherish the freedom she has given me to explore her body with my own hands and mouth. I know that I
’
m more experienced than she is, so I
’
m scared to death to try anything, which is why we haven
’
t gone very far
—
but I won
’
t deny that I want to.
So badly
. Yet, like always, she gives me the strength to hold back because she has control. I never want to make her uncomfortable.
Not ever. Not even a little
. So we move at whatever speed she desires.

I spread my palms flat across her back and pull her closer. She comes willingly, pressing her lips to mine to eliminate any significant space between us. I open my mouth first, anxious to taste her. With one flick of my tongue, she grants me access with a gasp.
If she only knew how she kills me just by breathing
…
But she doesn
’
t know. I don
’
t question her ignorance to the profound effect she has on me
—
it
’
s part of her charm, part of her innocence. It
’
s frustratingly beautiful. As she kisses me deeper, my heart beats faster and my desire for her becomes uncomfortably evident. I need to move, to adjust myself, so I do. I act before I think, lifting my hips off the couch and inadvertently rubbing up against her. She sucks in a sharp breath at the contact, severing our mouth
’
s connection.

She breathless as she looks at me, her cheeks crimson, and I regret moving.
“
I
’
m sorry,
”
I tell her.
“
I was
…
uncomfortable.
”

“
It
’
s fine. I just
—”
She shakes her head, running her fingers through her hair as her face burns even brighter. Her eyes move away from mine and I can tell by her body language that she
’
s embarrassed.

“
Hey,
”
I murmur, gliding my hands over her hair until I
’
m cupping my hands around the back of her neck. I wait for her to look at me before I continue speaking.
“
I
’
m sorry.
”

“
Don
’
t apologize. It
’
s my fault. I
—
I should probably
—”
She shifts to move away from me, off of my lap, but I stop her, locking her in place with my arms.

“
Please, don
’
t go.
”

“
Sonny
…
I don
’
t mean to make you
…
uncomfortable.
”

“
Avery, you
’
re hot as hell. You don
’
t even have to be touching me to make me
—”
I stop when she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I know she
’
s feeling bashful right now, but she has no idea how sexy she is; if I don
’
t change the direction of this conversation
… “
I don
’
t want to make
you
uncomfortable.
”

She giggles, resting her forehead against mine.
“
I
’
ve been avoiding this conversation like a baby. Maybe it
’
s time we had it.
”

“
Are we about to have
the sex talk?
”
I ask teasingly, trying to keep the mood light. She laughs and buries her face between my neck and my shoulder.

“
Lord, help me. I should be more mature than this. I
’
m twenty-one years old, for crying out loud.
”
I chuckle, keeping one arm around her as I free my other to run my fingers down the length of her hair.
“
I
’
m kind of scared.
”

“
About what?
”

“
About what you want,
”
she whispers.

I freeze, my muscles tensing in surprise.
“
You
’
re afraid of what
I
want?
”
She nods against my neck, keeping her face hidden, and I can no longer stand not being able to see her eyes.
“
Sweetheart, look at me. Please. Look at me.
”
She does as I ask, fidgeting with the buttons of my polo shirt. Her nerves are adorable and I can
’
t help the small smile that pulls at my lips.
“
Now talk to me.
”

I watch as she searches my eyes. I
’
m not sure what she
’
s looking for, but I can tell when she finds it because she takes a deep breath and then starts speaking.
“
Can I ask you something?
”

“
Anything, you know that.
”

She nods, her fingers moving from the buttons of my shirt to the collar.
“
You
’
re not a virgin, right?
”

“
No. I
’
m not,
”
I answer honestly.
“
I know you are, and that
’
s okay.
”

“
Are you expecting that we
’
ll
…
? Because I don
’
t
—”

“
Hey.
”
I interrupt her, pulling her hands away from my shirt so that I can lace my fingers with hers. Her gaze follows our hands and I continue, not demanding more of her attention than she
’
s willing to give right now.
“
I don
’
t want to either.
”
I cough out a laugh before I correct myself.
“
I mean, I do
—
I want you
—
but not like this. I know where you stand. I know that you want to wait until you get married and I respect that. I respect
you
with my whole heart. I knew coming into this relationship that I would wait for you.
”

“
Really?
”
she asks, bringing her eyes back up to meet mine.

“
Really. Even if you were to change your mind, I wouldn
’
t. I would never steal your virginity from your husband; I would never take away a gift you
’
ve been saving this long. Ave, you
’
re so good and pure and that
’
s part of the reason I love you so much and I don
’
t ever want to take that away from you. I won
’
t. I promise. Okay?
”

She bites her lip and hums her assent, giving my fingers a squeeze.
“
Is it okay for me to wonder how many girls there were
…
before me?
”
She asks so softly I barely make out her words.

“
That
’
s fair,
”
I assure her
—
or maybe myself
.
“
Are you sure you want to know?
”

She furrows her eyebrows as her lips turn down in a frown.
“
Is it that bad? Oh, gosh, do you have some wild number of girls that you
’
ve been with that I
’
ll have to live up to?
”
I can tell by the tone of her voice that she
’
s not so much judging
me
as she is worrying about how she
’
ll measure up
—
which is
ridiculous
.

“
Love,
no one
compares to you. Don
’
t ever forget that.
”

“
Okay,
”
she mutters unconvincingly.
“
I want to know, anyway.
”

“
Seven.
”
I watch her closely, wanting to spot any disapproval that might flicker across her features; I need to know if it
’
s there, even if she doesn
’
t voice it
—
but she doesn
’
t give anything away.

“
Did you
…
love
them?
”

“
No.
”
I state matter-of-factly, with not a hint of hesitation. I don't dwell on the significance of my answer. Instinct propels me to be honest without pulling her into the depths of my past
—
she asked, I answered, no great details are necessary. The last thing I want to do is allow my history to hurt her or come between us.

“
Um. Okay. So. Is this
—”
Her nerves still linger and it
’
s obvious she
’
s having a hard time forcing her words out. I wish I could read her mind, so as to spare her from this moment, but I can
’
t. So I wait.
“
Is this all about
me?
I mean. Is there any part of you that wants to wait for yourself?
”

Now it
’
s my turn to pull my eyes away from her. There
’
s so much she
’
s asking in that one question. For the longest time, it wasn
’
t so much about waiting for marriage as it was waiting for something
better
. Parts of my sexual past are nightmares I wish I could bury and never think of again. Then, there
’
s just my plain old stupidity or lust or my desire to know love. I know now that what I
’
ve experienced in the past, it wasn
’
t love. I know because it wasn
’
t
this
—
what I have with Avery.

“
Yes,
”
I finally answer.
“
When I became a Christian, I came to understand why it
’
s a practice to wait. I know that sex is a gift that God gave us to enjoy, but that it
’
s also not something that should be shared with everyone who wants you. Our bodies and our souls weren
’
t meant to be intimate with just anyone. It
’
s not just a physical act. Even though I have had sex, being taught the significance of it made me see the importance of changing my actions going forward. So I adopted the conviction, but without ever having to put it to the test. It wasn
’
t until I fell for you that I knew I
’
d have to put it into practice. It wasn
’
t until I
got
you that I decided I wanted to wait just as much for me as for you.
”
I force myself to look into her eyes. As difficult as it might be to admit this to her face
—
to open my heart so wide for her
—
she makes me want to.

I
’
m definitely getting used to this feeling.

“
Ave, I don
’
t want to mess this up. You and me. I don
’
t want to do anything to mess us up. Sex changes everything. Always. Good or bad, either way, it changes everything. I know with
you
it has the potential to wreck me
—
if kissing you is any indication, then I have no doubt that it will
—
and if we do it too soon and I lose you
…”
I huff out a sigh and shake my head, not wanting to entertain that thought pattern.
“
I love you. So much that you make me want to save myself for you, too.
”