Remember When (Remember Trilogy #1) (32 page)

   My body had stopped shuddering by then, but the tenderness of his apology and the way he was holding me started the tears flowing. I swiped at my face, trying to disguise my emotional outburst. Jeez, I’d gone from sex kitten to bundle of nerves to weeping crybaby inside of five minutes. Trip was going to think I was psychotic. “Don’t be sorry. You were great, really. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before. I just thought you knew.”

   “I
should
have known. Layla, I never- Babe, wait. Are you crying?”

   I answered with
out thinking, “No,” which was an obvious lie.

   Trip rolled over, angling the top half of his body over mine, looking me in the eyes.

   “Oh, God. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I’m so
sorry
.” He dropped his face to mine, kissing my tears away, whispering his apologies over and over again. His lips found mine, kissing me so gently, so sweetly.

   He peppered his kisses with softly spoken avowals of affection, everything from “I’m sorry” to “I’m an idiot” to “Did I hurt you?” But the one that really got me, the one that just about completely
killed
me, was when he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and whispered, “You know I’m crazy about you, right?”

   And then I knew.

   I looked into his eyes- those searching, hopeful, beautiful blue eyes- and I knew that at least for that one night... he was
mine
. Even if he didn’t admit it out loud, even if it wasn’t forever, even if it was just for that one moment- that one glorious, blessed moment- Trip Wilmington had actually fallen in love with me.

   The sweetness of his words, combined with the gentleness of his lips should have broken me, sent me into a full-on bawling fit. But instead, the endearments served to melt me in a way his hands and mouth had tried to just moments before. I felt myself heating up again, back on the Trip Wilmington roller coaster ride all over again.

   I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back, loving the feel of his bare skin against mine. He tangled his hands in my hair as I lightly raked my nails over his back and I could feel him harden again. It didn’t freak me out this time. It felt empowering, the way I could turn him on so easily just by kissing him, touching him, drive him crazy. His tongue plunged into my mouth, his hands touching every part of me within reach and I met his hunger, grasping his shoulders and arching my back toward his body, writhing against him with that familiar, aching need.

   He buried his head in my neck before I heard him whisper, “Ah.
There’s
my girl,” the sound of his throaty laugh sending shivers down my spine, this time in a good way. I kissed him then, hot and searching, my mind and body giving over to him completely, my fears crumbling against the assault of his sweet mouth against mine.

   His palm cupped my breast before replacing his
roving hand with his lips, his expert mouth drawing its tip between his teeth lightly, teasing me, slaying me with his gifted tongue. Just when I thought I was going to die, he moved on to the other one, giving it the same treatment. The feel of his mouth on my bare skin was phenomenal, turning every inch of my body into a quivering mass of pure sensation, my nerve endings on the verge of exploding.

   I almost passed out when his fingers slid between my thighs, gently easing one into me, sending a hot current through my body, every molecule threatening to detonate. I pressed myself against his hand, which sent us both completely over the edge, Trip’s body doubling over, his
raspy voice breaking when he laughed and begged, “Jesus, stop
moving
or I’m not gonna make it! You’re killing me.”

   Ha!
I
was killing
him
? How enthralling, knowing I was able to do that!

   There I was, Layla Warren: Sex Goddess.

   I’d managed the unthinkable task of turning Trip Wilmington into a defenseless, panting piece of mortal flesh. I guessed he was human after all and it made me love him all the more. And being wrapped up in the arms of someone you love is just about the greatest feeling in the whole wide world. I finally understood why sex was such a big deal. Because at that moment, all I could think about was how I wanted to be as close to him as possible, to feel him inside me- wanting me, making love with me.

   There was no room for nervousness this time as he positioned hi
s body over me again and aligned his hips over mine, his hardened length straining toward my body, waiting this time, excruciating, unyielding, holding out with a torture that consumed us both.

   I wrapped my legs aroun
d his waist, crushing us closer together, surprising him with the effect my movement had on him. He lifted his face just long enough to shoot an impressed look my way, which had the intended result of cracking me up.

   “Oh, just
do it
already!” I laughed out, and Trip didn’t wait for me to change my mind. He slid into me slowly, checking my reaction every centimeter along the way. Huh. It didn’t hurt so much this time. It still felt weird, but once he was all the way in there and started to move inside me, it actually started to feel... pretty good.

   Then, it started to feel
really
good.

   And
then
, it started to feel
amazing
!

   He started driving into me at a steady pace and I
was able to match his movements with my own, raising my hips toward his demanding cadence. I could hear him breathing hard against my ear, aching, dying for me, causing me to lose my mind
.
I decided to return the favor, offering some noises of my own. When I did, Trip started trembling all over, wrapping his arms around me like a vise and ramming into me rhythmically; faster,
harder
. I probably should have been in some state of orgasmic euphoria or something, but what I was really consumed with at that moment was how fascinating it really was. Like, you hear about sex all the time, but there we were, actually doing it! We were
having sex
!

   His voice brought me back to him, seductive and rough in my ear when he whispered, “God. You feel
so
good
,” which caught me by such surprise that I almost died.

   I completely lost whatever hold I’d maintained over my own control as I groaned louder, arching my entire
body up to his, smashing myself against his smooth, sweat-slicked chest, watching the muscles of his jaw clench as he dropped his head and cursed under his breath.

   I knew I had driven him over the edge because he started slamming into me harder, his hand at the small of my back lifting me to him,
rigid and insistent and deep inside of me, his string of half-words and animal noises rocking me to my very core. His hips crashing against mine, his body pounding away at me, his breathing ragged, losing control, sinking, soaring,
dying
, his voice finally rasping out, “
Oh God
...
I can’t
...” before letting out with a final, tortured groan, his shaft
quaking fiercely inside of me again and again and again, his arms ultimately giving out from the effort of coming so violently. He collapsed on top of me, the full weight of his spent body on top of mine; panting, laughing, growling.

   I could barely breathe, but I figured there were worse ways to go. Had my life been smothered out at that moment, I would have died a happy girl. I shifted to try and find some breathing room,
and Trip must have taken the hint. He let out a heavy breath then rolled over onto his back, grinning ear to ear, dropping an arm over his face and exclaiming, “Holy shit!”

   I was still flying high at that moment, registering the delicious afterglow of what had just transpired between us. I finally saw what all the fuss was about. I pulled the blanket up to my neck and said, “Nice, Chester. I always dreamed my first time would end with a sweaty guy yelling obscenities.”

   He laughed his ass off, snuggling into me, a heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me to face him, both of us trying to get our breathing back to normal. “Sorry. But christ! I don’t know what else to say.”

   I nestled in against his arm, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Hmm. Well, let’s see. I let you get me drunk and deflower me out here in the wilderness...  How ‘bout thank you, you ingrate?”

   He was still grinning that gorgeous, white, elated grin as he said appreciatively, “You’re right. Thank you.”

   I s
tarted to say, “You’re welcome,” but Trip had reached down to remove a little something from under the blanket, a little something that currently, was sheathing my new favorite thing about him. Before he even pulled his hand out from under the covers, he said, “Uh, Babe? Don’t know how to break this to you, but...”

   My first thought was,
Ohmygod! The condom broke!
For one horrifying second I was sure that I was pregnant, that I’d never go to NYU and that I’d have to tell my father, who would immediately drop dead of a heart attack upon hearing the news.

   So, it was almost an odd relief that all Trip was trying to tell me was that there was “a little bit of blood” down there.  

   Oh, God, how embarrassing! I was pretty mortified, but immediately grabbed my purse and dug out some Wet-Naps and tissues, thanking the good Lord up above that I at least had something we could use to clean ourselves up.

   Trip grabbed a few of the towelette packets, slipped into his boxers and exited the tent, affording me some privacy.

   I lifted the covers and peeked with one eye closed... and saw the small stain that was spotting the blanket under me, along with the mess of my inner thighs. Gross! Why does loss of virginity have to be so undignified?

   I did a quick cleanup, found a pad in my purse and put my clothes back on, then rolled the stained blanket into a ball, which I shoved in the corner of the tent before going outside. 

   Trip was just inside the edge of the trees, naked except for his undies. Seeing him hanging out in the woods in just a pair of boxers was so out-of-place that it was comical. It broke the tension enough for me to laugh out, “Well, that was pretty horrifying,” trying to make light of the disgusting situation. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I was humiliated. And Trip was probably completely grossed out.

   “Oh, so sex with me is horrifying? Nice, Lay.”

   I took the opportunity he offered to dismiss the Texas Chainsaw Massacre back there in the tent and asked, “Did you just call me a nice lay, you perv?”

   Trip did a double-take, realizing how I’d twisted his words around and started laughing. He leapt toward me and threw me over his shoulder, smacking my butt, telling me to cry uncle. I couldn’t twist out of his iron grip and I was
not
letting him win, so I reached down and grabbed the waistband of his boxers and gave a good tug.

   “Wedgie defense!” I yelled as he put me down post haste.

   “A wedgie? Really?” which cracked us both up as he adjusted himself in his shorts.

   It was a downright shame that Trip had to eventually put his clothes back on. I thought he should forget about travelling or hockey or college and just set up a booth on some beach somewhere, selling tickets to random girls who’d gladly pay good money to see him shirtless. His chest should rank right up alongside the Grand Canyon as one of the Lord’s most miraculous creations.

   We packed everything up and trekked back to my car. Neither one of us said much, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. My impending departure loomed over us, that actuality suddenly very real and very imminent. In just a few hours, I’d be in New York; no more Norman, no more Trip. I knew he was waiting for me to skip town before getting on with his travels, and since we never discussed either of those things at length, I wondered where he’d be heading first.

   We loaded up my car, and as I slammed the trunk, I saw
that Trip was just standing there looking at me. I met his eyes, trying to commit every detail of his beautiful face to memory, not so easy to do considering my vision was starting to blur from unshed tears.

   Without hesitation, he put his arms around me, holding me tight against his chest. “We’re not doing this now, okay? I’ll come over in the morning, but I. Can’t. Do. This. Now.” I could hear his teeth clenched together as he said that last part, which gave me the strength to clamp down on the waterworks as well. Tears had been threatening for weeks, never more so than in the past few minutes, but I was determined
not
to ruin our last night by bawling.

   I pulled back to let him know it was okay, I understood, that we could postpone our big theatrical scene for a few more hours.

   And then I saw the look on his face.

   I almost fainted dead away. There was Trip, his expression telling me everything I ever needed to know. Back in the tent, I was fairly certain that he’d fallen in love with me. Looking into his eyes, that thought was confirmed, right there on his face. He was looking at me with such adoration; those broken, blue eyes offering a window into his heartache, dying inside as he watched me slipping through his grasp.