Take Me On

“I love you,” he says.

Nervous adrenaline creeps into my bloodstream. I love him. I do. I love his strength, his tenacity, his loyalty and even his impulsiveness. But I’m frightened how those three words said aloud will change everything.

With his body blanketing mine, our hearts in tune with each other, the emotion I’ve been fighting overpowers me and I’ve never liked the feeling of losing control. My lip trembles as a hot tear escapes and streams down my cheek.

West catches it with a kiss. “We’re strong together, Haley. Stronger than we are apart.”

“I don’t feel strong,” I whisper.

“Then I’ll be strong enough for both of us.”

My fingers dig into his shoulders and I cling to him. “I love you.”

West captures my lips and the intensity of the embrace unravels all train of thought. Our hands are everywhere: touching, exploring. His on my body. Mine on his. A strap of my bra down, then another.

We roll and his hands are tight in my hair, our tongues slide urgently against the other, and, as I hook a leg around his, we roll again and my body arches with the way we fit.

Hands wander lower and with warmth spreading everywhere I whisper his name—one time, then another—and with a few more touches he whispers mine. West’s fingers pause on the button of my jeans and we both snap open our eyes.

Our breaths come out in gasps. “I want you to be my first. This means something—making love means something. It’s why I haven’t done it before. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I lick my lips and nod, wanting to know what it’s like to be with someone who loves me and I love in return. My lips brush against his and West slips the button through the hole and the unzipping of my jeans becomes the only noise in the room.

Silence as we stare at one another. My jeans are unzipped. We can go forward or we can go back, and even though I’m scared as hell, I don’t want to go back.

My fingers find his jeans and West’s grace eludes me. A metal button through an open space of material. It should be easy, simple, uncomplicated, but my fingers fumble. One time. A second time. With the third, I feel an indention of the button forming on the tip of my finger.

West lays his hands over mine and I close my eyes, wishing I’d die. He doesn’t push me away. Instead he guides my fingers in a fluid and effortless flick and his zipper crackles.

I swear to God my heart can’t beat any faster.

With my bra and jeans half off, I flounder with the blanket beneath me.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

Nope. Not at all. In fact, I’m burning up, but being naked is intimidating. I guess I’m more experienced, but really...I’m not. “Do you mind?”

He shakes his head and under the covers we shed the last of our clothes. We lie on our sides, facing each other, and West runs his hand along the curve of my body. He unashamedly looks through the gap, seeing more of me than anyone else has. “You’re beautiful.”

My mouth slants up and West gathers me to him. We lie there for a while, enjoying the warmth and the new feeling of being next to each other. I steal a few glances at West and I know he knows that I’m satisfying curiosity by peeking, but still...it’s weird and exhilarating.

“Can we... Can you turn the lights off?” Because while West is stunning, there’s an intimacy I’d prefer in the dark.

The kindness in his eyes almost removes the sting of the blush on my cheeks. He turns off the television, shifts off the bed, and I bite my lip as I watch his bare butt and the way the muscles in his shoulders move as he crosses the room.

With a flip of a switch, blackness envelops the room and it takes a second for my eyes to readjust. Little lights glimmer from his assorted electronics, and from the glow of the cracked-open bathroom, I can see just enough. West’s feet pad against the carpet back to me. The bed dips and his heat reaches me before his body.

We’re slow in returning to the edginess—the rawness that causes me to forget I’m naked and West is naked and that we’re sharing something so intimate, so intense...

West breaks away and mutters a curse. Cold air slaps my body and panic tenses my muscles. I replay the past few seconds, searching for what I did wrong. “What is it?”

He falls back to his pillow and I tuck the sheet over my breasts. “West?”

“I don’t have a condom.”

I blink. He doesn’t have a... “But I thought all guys...” Guess they don’t.

He rubs his eyes. “I told you. I don’t have sex.”

“Oh.” Giddiness invades my voice. “So you still want me?”

West peers at me out of the corner of his eye and motions downward. “Obviously.”

I nervously giggle, then stop, feeling relieved and somewhat...frustrated. Like waking up from a dream of kissing West and not finding him in my bed. “I won’t do it without one.”