Shelf Life (19 page)

chapter thirty-four

I want to so bad, but will that make me an asshole for taking advantage of her being upset? Or would it be reassuring to her that I meant what I said and that I’ll be here for her no matter what shit goes down in her life?

A word pops into my head: intimacy. Not something I think about often and I’d never mention it out loud, but I’ve seen the books on Mom’s nightstand about creating
intimacy
in marriage, and those dumb psycho-babble shows she watches now and then. For once, my brain’s overriding my hormones, and it’s telling me Lindsey and I are having an intimate moment. I don’t want to fuck that up.

Suddenly, her
hand’s on my stomach, her breaths coming faster. Things below the belt flair to life, but a funny thing happens. Instead of my brain shutting down, everything’s working in tandem. Yeah, my body’s ready to do what it wants to do, but I’m still aware that this is an intense exchange. I’m capable of thinking
and
feeling, and it’s awesome.

Next to me, Lindsey’s hand begins moving. “I can see that you want me. Are you scared?”

A laugh comes out before I can stop it. “Yeah, but not for the reason you think.”

“Oh?” She sits up on her elbow and looks me in the face. “Do tell.”

Crap
. One wrong word and she’s going to get pissed, but with her hand sliding up and down my jeans, I’m willing to take the risk. “I don’t want to be an asshole. You’re really upset, and I don’t want you to regret this, or do it because you need to feel close to someone. I want you to need to feel close to
me
. God, I’m an idiot, and yeah, you can totally make fun of me for being the girl here.”

She leans in even closer and kisses the spot below my ear. “I’m not going to make fun of you. Well, not for this. I think that’s very sweet. You’ve changed.”

“Yeah?”

“
Mmm-hmm. Now will you please stop worrying about my feelings and make me forget them?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This is it, the moment I’ve dreamed of since eighth grade. It’s not a bed of roses or even a picnic by the pond, but in a pile of hay at dusk in our barn-loft retreat somehow seems fitting.

My hands wrap themselves around the sides of her face, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. She closes her eyes, waiting for my kiss, but I don’t give it to her right away. Instead, I hover just above her lips. “Open your eyes.” She obeys, and the softness there nearly undoes me. There aren’t any words to convey what I want to say or what I’m feeling, so I hope she can read the love in my gaze. It’s intense, like putting your hand over a flame and seeing how long before you flinch and pull away, except neither of us is pulling away. She’s mine and I’m hers, so we take what the other is giving.

At first, I lightly skim my lips over hers. I want to memorize this moment, this calm before the storm. She tries to deepen the kiss but I pull away just slightly. She frowns, and it makes me chuckle.
“Patience, Linds. Let me do this right.” I repeat the kiss, giving her a little more of what she wants. Under my hands, she shivers. I trail light kisses down to her jaw, and nibble at her neck.

She groans. “Jeez, Pete, will you just kiss me?”

I smile against her shoulder. “I am kissing you.”

“You know what I mean!”

“You’re not enjoying this? Because your body says you are.” That’s when she whimpers, a sound I’ve never heard from her. My heart explodes. “I want to hear that sound again.”

“What?”

“That whimper. I want to hear it again.”

“I didn’t whimper.”

“Yes, you did, and I’m going to make you do it again.” The skin across her ribcage is so smooth compared to my callused hands as I trail my knuckles over each inch, slowly moving up toward her breasts. I take a couple deep breaths to stop myself from ripping off her shirt and bra. Instead, I rub my thumb over her nipple through the fabric. I’m rewarded by another soft whimper. “That’s it, Linds. I like that.”

Her hands are bunched in my shirt, as if she can’t get enough. She throws a leg over my hip and I fit her just where I want her and rock into her. Even though we’re both fully clothed, she draws in a sharp breath and her neck flushes pink. She’s so close already. This is going to be amazing.

“Pete,” she whispers.

I peel off her shirt and roll onto my back, taking her with me so she’s straddling my hips. Her silhouette is framed in the loft doors against the purple night sky. I reach up and push the straps of
her bra off her slender shoulders. “I want to see you.” She nods, reaches behind her, and undoes the clasps. “My God, Linds. You’re perfect.” She moves to cover herself, but I circle her wrists with my hands. “No hiding with me. I think we’re beyond that.” She nods and sits up a little straighter, so I let go of her wrists. She’s breathtaking. It takes every damn ounce of self-control I have not to take her right then. But this is my Lindsey, and I’m going to do this right, not just for her, but for both of us. We’ve been through so much, we deserve this.

No fabric in the way this time, my thumbs circle her pink nipples. I feel them get hard and my brain goes fuzzy. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up this slow pace. Her head falls back while she bucks forward, rubbing right on my insane erection. Yeah, it’s go time. I slip my fingers into the top of her jeans and undo the button and zipper. Underneath, she’s wearing plain, white cotton underwear that’s so modest and so practical. She must notice me staring because she slips out of her jeans and granny panties as quickly as possible.

“I didn’t plan this,” she says. “I came here prepared to work, not …
this
.”

“Don’t. I love them. You could be wearing men’s
tighty-whities and I’d still love taking them off you.” Lindsey rolls her eyes, so it’s time to pull her back into the moment. She yelps when I suddenly roll her onto her back, pressing her into the hay.

“Why am I naked while you’re still dressed?”

One swift movement and my sweaty T-shirt joins her clothes in a pile on the floor. Her eyes get wide. “When did you…?” She doesn’t finish her question, but slides her hands up my chest, down my arms and back up to squeeze my biceps. Farm work has been good for me.

Finally, her hands travel down over my abs and lower, stopping when they reach the top of my pants.

“You sure about this, Linds?”

She smiles, undoes my pants, and reaches in. I
suck in air between my teeth. It’s one thing to have your own hand on your cock late at night in the loneliness of your bedroom. It’s another thing entirely to have the smooth hand of your lifelong crush squeezing and stroking. If her hand feels this good, I can’t imagine what it’ll be like to finally be buried inside her.

My jeans and boxers join the rest of our clothes. When she finally glances down, she pales. “Wow.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I’m not sure I can—”

“You can. I’ll help.”

“How—
ohhh.” Ava and her friends were very helpful in this department, and willing to teach me exactly how to lick and suck until a girl is ready to handle anything. While my mouth is working its magic, I slide one finger inside, then two, stretching and preparing her for me. Her back arches and she’s got fists full of hay. “Oh my God, Pete,” she pants.

“More?”

“Yes!”

She tastes so good, and the smell of her arousal mixed with lavender is intoxicating. I could do this all night, just to hear that whimper and feel her twist and writhe with pleasure. I’ve got three fingers in when she suddenly arches hard, no sound coming out,
perfectly frozen except for the pulsing around my fingers and wetness spreading over my hand and chin. It lasts so long I’m afraid she’s forgotten how to breathe.

Finally, after an eternity, she inhales and relaxes. “That was—I don’t—where did you learn—”

I stop her babbling with a kiss, a
real
one this time. She puts up no resistance. Our lips search each other’s out, bruising and biting until she opens and I slip my tongue inside. Yes, there’s love in this kiss, but we’re both worked up to a frenzy as we accidentally smash teeth. For some reason, this turns me on even more. It’s so completely raw and passionate, like we can’t control ourselves any longer and fuck the niceties, I need to be inside her.
Now
.

With one hand I grip a handful of hair at the nape of her neck and her hip with the other. I position myself at her entrance, pause for a second in case she’s changed her mind, but when she pulls me closer, I slowly push into her.

And completely lose my fucking mind.

A goddamn volcano could erupt outside the barn and I wouldn’t notice or care. Lindsey tenses up a bit, but once I’m completely inside her, I hold still, giving her time to adjust. She nods, kisses me, and wraps her legs around my waist. “More,” she says.

I not only give her more, I give her
everything
—my heart, my body, all I have goes into this. When she’s ready, I pick up the pace, alternating between long, deep strokes, and short, teasing ones. Her nails dig into my back as she grasps for something to anchor herself. I hold tighter, cementing our union with kisses, love bites, and gentle stroking of every inch of her milky skin. Finally, I reach my breaking point. Thank God she’s right there with me, her channel tightening in time with my thrusts. “I love you, Lindsey.”

After that, words aren’t necessary. Somewhere in the back of my brain I hope my parents can’t hear us, but for the most part, I don’t care. She cries out at the same time I lose it, tipping over the edge and into complete bliss with her. I’m no expert, but it lasts a long time. She’s still shuddering and I’m still throbbing long after the climax, proof—at least in my mind—that we belong together.
That this is right.

Although I’m probably squishing her, I can’t bring myself to roll off yet. I want to stay inside her. Stay connected. Ignore the outside world for just a little longer. She hasn’t unhooked her ankles from behind my back yet, so I’m assuming she feels the same. I tuck my face into the crook of her neck, the smell of her sweat and damp hair teasing me into wanting more. Just like when I was with Ava, my mind wanders to Dr. Kimmel, who would probably say the pheromones in Lindsey’s sweat and
oxytocin released by sex are what’s driving me crazy. While I’m sure those play a part, they can’t compare to years of friendship, knowing someone inside and out, and accepting their flaws along with all the great stuff about them.

And yeah, it helps that there’s been a decade of build-up.

Finally, her breathing calms and she releases her ankles. I slide down to take some of my weight off her, but lay my head on her stomach. She giggles. “You know I can feel your heart beat?”

“It’s beating pretty hard. That was intense.”

“I know, but I can feel it…
there
.”

I lift my head and sure enough, my heart is positioned over her mound. “Is that too weird?”

“No,” she says, then runs her fingers through my hair. “I want to stay like this.” So we do, for at least another five perfect minutes. I feel her shift and hear her sniffing. Dammit. I don’t want her to cry. But then she takes a long sniff. “Did you use a different shampoo?”

“No, why?”

“I just…I thought I smelled something perfumey.”

“Yes, I’m wearing women’s perfume.
You jealous?”

“Shut up,” she says, and smacks the top of my head. “I could swear…” But she doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she’s staring off at the wall of the loft, like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

“Everything okay, Lindsey?”

She doesn’t respond. I go into panic mode. Did I do something wrong? Hurt her? What if I misread her signals and she wasn’t ready and now she regrets being with me? A million possibilities whirl in my head and I’m thinking too fast to sort out any of them. “Talk to me. What’s going through your head?”

She finally looks at me and blinks a few times. “Hmm?”

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just totally spaced. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, um, everything’s fine. My mind must have wandered. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Her words don’t sit right, but I let it go for now. No sense in pushing her and ruining this evening with whatever just happened. “So, about what you said earlier. Did you mean it?”

“That I love you? You know I do.”

“Yeah, but like
that
?”

“I love you every way you can imagine. I don’t expect you to say it back, because I know I’ve been a douche, but I’m seeing things differently. I’ve learned a lot in the past few months.”

“Clearly,” she says, and turns bright red. “You pick up these skills at YSU?”