Okay. So logically I appreciated what he was saying. I knew that he was telling me that he cared about me enough to not disrespect my parents and their house by having sex with me in it. But right then, all I heard was that he had done this very thing with girls before me. And he wasn't gonna do it with me. And it pissed me off. What was wrong with me? Was I not good enough to share that sort of intimacy with? I mean, it was obvious he had been less than discriminating in the past.
I turned my back to him and straightened my clothes, putting my bra back in place and putting my hair in a ponytail. “Mags.” Clay said quietly from behind me. I leaned over and picked my Spanish book up off the floor and started to open it. Clay sat beside me. “Maggie. Don't be upset. Come on.” He pulled the book off of my lap and I just sat there, staring at my hands.
I was embarrassed and, worst of all, I felt rejected.
“Look at me.” I lifted my eyes to his very concerned ones. “What did I say to make you look like that?” He asked. Stupid, oblivious boy. My face flushed red. “So, you've had sex a bunch before. You know, done stuff with girls. But you won't do that stuff with me -your girlfriend. Am I getting this right?” I asked tightly. Clay brushed the hair from my face. “You silly, silly girl. Where does all this insecurity come from?” I started to pull away, annoyed that he could throw my insecurities in my face when he was the king of them! But he held me fast, holding onto my upper arms, forcing me to look at him.
“What I did before, that was another life. I was another person. I wasn't someone you would have ever wanted to be around, let alone be your boyfriend.” I started to protest what he was saying. To argue that I would have loved him no matter what he was like, but he silenced me.
“No, listen, Maggie. I wasn't a good person. I was sick and addicted to the worst possible things. So yes. I had sex. I fooled around with a lot of different girls. But none of it meant anything. Those girls, they used me. I used them, to try and feel something. But it was all a lie. Because I hated them. Hated myself. Nothing mattered until I met you.” His eyes were intense as they looked into mine. I was holding my breath.
“Maggie. When we make love, I want it to be special. Not some quickie in your bedroom before your parents come home. I want more than that for us. I want to be able to hold you all night and feel you against me as I fall asleep. I want us to be perfect together.” God, his words set me on fire. Had there ever been two people who loved each other as much as we did? I couldn't put into words the way we felt about each other.
“I love you.” I breathed. Since saying it that first time, I found that I just couldn't stop. I wanted him to know every second of every day how much he meant to me. “God, Maggie.” He whispered, leaning forward, capturing my mouth with his. “I love you more than anything. With everything that I am.” He answered me. Okay, I was done for. I crashed into him again. Our mouths molded together, our breath coming fast. “Just a little bit. Please, just give me something.” I begged into his mouth. Clay's heart beat erratically beneath my hand as I pressed into him.
Helpless against my feminine wiles, Clay slipped his hands up my shirt and pressed his hands against my breasts. He rubbed my nipples with his fingers, sending shocks of electricity to that sensitive spot between my thighs. I groaned into his mouth and that seemed to be his undoing. He reached around my back and unclasped my bra. Then with an ease I didn't want to focus too much on, he peeled off my shirt, taking my bra with it. I felt a little uneasy being so quickly exposed. I tried to cover myself, not sure how to behave.
Clay stopped me and pulled my arms away from my chest. His eyes were bright. “You are so beautiful.” He rasped, lowering his mouth to my breast, licking and kissing it slowly until I thought I would die with the pleasure of his touch.
With shaky fingers, I undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it off of him. Clay's mouth returned to mine as we pressed our naked flesh against each other. “I want you so much, Clay. Please. I need this.” I whispered hoarsely as his mouth trailed back down to my aching nipples.
For a moment I thought I had won. Clay slowly unbuttoned my jeans and I raised my hips to give him easier access. He slid his hand inside, over top my underwear and pressed his palm against my wet warmth. I had never been touched so intimately before. I was breathing in rapid pants and I worried I would hyperventilate.
His fingers began to move underneath the edge of my panties. So close to where I desperately needed him to be. His mouth was hard and wet against my lips as he seemed to fight with himself for control.
I then I heard the worst possible sound. The front door slamming shut. Shit! My parents were home. I looked over at the clock, shocked to see that two hours had already passed. “Christ! You've got to get out of here! My parents will spit roast you if they find you in here.” I hastily put my bra back on, inside out I'm pretty sure, and I pulled my shirt over my head. Clay quickly buttoned up his shirt and slid his shoes on his feet.
“How am I going to get out of here?” He asked in a near panic. I looked out my window. The only way would be to climb out onto the roof and down the old oak tree. I pointed outside. “You have to go out that way!” I hissed, trying to shoo him in that direction.
Clay seemed frozen to the spot. I could hear my parents rummaging around in the kitchen, my mom's laughter at something my dad had said. It would only be minutes before they come up here looking for me.