“Oh my God! I’m so not telling you anything about my sex life.”
“Hey, I only ask because you look like you jumped off the cover of a bubblegum retro teen magazine.”
“You said that already. And how far back are we talking anyway?” I asked.
“Nineteen-fifties, for sure. The ponytail—” (I immediately yanked the hairband from my head and let my hair tumble about my shoulders.) “—the pearl earrings—” (Took those out.) “—that little matchy-matchy shirt you’ve got on—” (I unbuttoned it quickly and threw it on the floor) “—that bra you’re wearing—” (My hands automatically went to the back clasp.)
“Hey, wait a minute!” I said, and threw my napkin at his head. He laughed.
“How epic would it have been to get you completely naked, huh?” he asked.
I laughed, too, and then I cleared my throat.
“I wanna know all the dirty things you’ve done,” Reece said. “Is that bad?”
I blushed and hung my head. “Reece . . .”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Why would you want to know those things? They happened with other guys.”
“So what? I have an imagination. Not hard to insert myself into the picture and knock the joker out.”
I giggled.
“You’re giggling because I used the word ‘insert,’ and that’s precisely what I meant to do,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
I laughed harder.
Reece sighed. “Fine. You don’t wanna tell me? Then you have to show me.”
My eyes went wide. “Really?”
“I’m ready if you are,” he replied. He watched my face carefully.
I blushed and averted my eyes. I wasn’t exactly prepared for this. I realized my bra and panties didn’t match. My sheets hadn’t been washed in five days. I was rocking major garlic breath.
“I ate the garlic bread, too, you know,” Reece said.
I looked at him, shocked. “How did you know I was thinking that?!”
“Had a hunch,” he replied.
“You’re amazing,” I breathed.
“So are you.” He paused. “So what do you think?”
I nodded consent, and he flashed a brilliant smile.
“My panties don’t match,” I blurted.
“I love that. It’s so . . . out of control.”
“My sheets are dirty.”
“I wanna smell ‘em.”
I buried my face in my hands and cracked up. And then I spread my fingers, peeking through the cracks.
“Shy?” he asked.
I nodded, still covering my face.
“I’m glad. I want you to be shy.”
I dropped my hands. “Why?”
“Because if you acted like a floosy, I just couldn’t respect you.”
I smirked. “Do you joke all the time?”
“No, not all the time,” he replied, and his face turned serious. “What’s about to happen in there?”—He pointed to the back of the house—“That’s no joke.”
I stood up and took his hand, leading him to my bedroom. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, but it was the first time we’d be naked together in it. I was glad for the wine I drank. It calmed my nerves and gave me the courage to let him love me.
***
Reece sat down beside her on the edge of the bed and took her hand. It was clammy, and he moved his fingers to the inside of her wrist, feeling the rapid beating of her heart.
“It’s been a while,” she confessed. “Don’t judge me.”
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head.
“Forget about that. Forget about the past. This is us, here and now, and it’s gonna be amazing,” Reece said.
She lifted her face to him, offering her lips, and he pressed his mouth to them, kissing her deeply, mingling their garlic tongues.
“You taste good,” he said into her mouth.
“So do you,” she replied, and climbed into his lap, straddling his hips.
She pushed him gently on his back, and it felt natural for him to take hold of her hips. He waited, anticipation coursing through his veins with the strength and pull of an undertow. She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, pulling it away from her body. She folded it and placed it on the bed, catching sight of his smile.
“I’m nervous,” she explained.
“Will you fold your pants, too?” he asked.
“I may. Would that be weird?” she replied.
He shook his head. “I’ll fold your pants. I’ll fold your pants and eat you out at the same time.”
“Man, you’re good,” she said, as she moved his hands from her hips to her breasts.
He massaged them gently, watching her face and listening to the soft cries that escaped her lips. Her nipples grew hard under his palms, and he moved aside his hands to look at them. A rosy tan—little hard beach pebbles—and he fantasized about making love to her on the shore, her body cradled in the soft sand where it belonged.
He needed his mouth on her. He rolled her onto her back and kissed down her neck to the dip between her breasts. He ran the tip of his nose over her nipple and listened to her hiss. She buried her fingers in his hair, urging him to put his mouth on her, and he complied, drawing her nipple between his lips. He swirled his tongue. She moaned. He sucked gently. She bucked. He grabbed her hands and clasped them above her head, trapped in his large palm. She squirmed, trying to break free, and he bit her nipple.
“Ow!”
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
She shuddered and gasped as he licked her nipples, teasing them to hard points, then drawing back to watch them turn velvety soft again.
“Pretty nipples,” he said. “Pretty breasts.”
Her breathing turned shallow.
“Pretty arms and neck and collarbone,” he went on. “Pretty little thing.”
“Reece . . .”
He cocked his head and looked into her eyes.
“I bet you have a pretty little *, too.”
She turned her face out of embarrassment.
“Let’s find out,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose.
He unbuttoned her pants and slid them down, catching sight of her mismatched panties. They were green boy shorts. The bra she’d been wearing was pink.
“Green and pink complement each other,” Reece said.
She smiled. “You don’t get it.”