Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last (21 page)

He pulled away, making sure he didn’t
make eye contact as he led me to the bed. I didn’t question him. I
let him take me wherever he needed to be healed. He knew what he
needed, I wasn’t about to change that. Turning to face me, his gaze
rose to meet mine. His red and wet, eyes searched for some type of
answer to help him heal faster. I wished I had it—wanted to have it
for him. With his hands pressed warmly on my cheeks he kissed me.
His lips, salty from his tears, tasted painful, achy, and
remorseful. I cautiously kissed him back. My butterflies trembled
down low, trying to keep from being discovered. I didn’t want
anything to stop us, but he was balancing on such a precariously
thin edge of anguish and guilt.

Max nibbled at my bottom lip—his way
of telling me he wanted more than a reserved kiss. He pushed, I
opened my mouth, and the tip of his tongue slowly moved to taste
more. His shoulders rose, his hands pressed against my ears, and
the echo of our desires filled my head. Now I couldn’t keep my
butterflies from coming to life. He sparked a desire low in my
groin that vibrated up through my body and caused my hands to seek
a way to soothe him. I pressed against him, my hands knotted in his
hair, with no idea where we were heading or how far we were going
let this go.

Pulling slightly away from my lips Max
whispered the words I’d waited to taste for a month: “Wilson, will
you make love to me?”

There was a huge part of
me that wanted to become one with him, feel him from the inside—our
skin meeting, our bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. But I
didn’t want him to know I was afraid. I wanted to feel the ecstasy,
but not the pain. Not just the physical pain of my first time, but
the fear of not knowing what comes after. So many stupid questions
filled my head.
Will he go his way as I go
mine? Will making love to him bring us closer, or will he be
disappointed and pull away? When we go all the way, will I feel as
good as I do when we make out?
Will he
feel how much I love him?

Nevertheless, I
capitulated to my hovering state of want. I pulled him down on top
of me. Max’s mouth found the edge of my ear and whispered something
even better, “Can
I
make love to
you
, Wilson?”

He pulled up my shirt, exposing my
stomach before he pressed his lips to it and tasted my skin. My
butterflies went wild. They shot straight up into my head before
diving deep into the apex of my thighs. It felt like my butterflies
were fighting to break free from being contained in my body. My
heart pounded ferociously in my chest as their wings tickled my
insides.

Max looked up at me as he
pulled at the top button of my pants. His electric green eyes
begged for permission—I didn’t say a word. I just nodded
yes.

Max lowered the zipper on my jeans,
pulling the front open enough to press his lips just above the
waistband of my panties. His warm tongue trailed across to my hip
bone, his silky black hair tickled at my stomach. I welcomed him. I
wanted him to explore my body; wanted him to feel my heartbeat
speed as he tasted my skin. He lifted his body off mine and tangled
his arms into the edge of his t-shirt, quickly pulling it off. His
gorgeous skin exposed, I rose to touch him. My hands rushed to meet
his tight skin. With muscles flexed, he yanked at the base of my
shirt, pulling it up above my head until my hands were caught in
the twisted fabric. He pushed me back. Locked in my shirt, I
couldn’t stop him from touching me, kissing along the edges of my
bra. I quivered and my breath got caught low in my throat as I
moaned. I wanted to indulge him—touch him, take him, heal him. But
mostly I wanted him to know he was going to be okay.

Max’s fingers tickled over my bare
skin up to my torso and moved slowly underneath my bra. He
seductively dragged it up off my chest, giving him total access to
drive me wild. Teasing me, he kissed the curves of my breasts.
Slowly he tickled me with the tip of his tongue before he pressed
his mouth against my waiting nipple, trapping it between his teeth.
My breath quickened, and a fire raged down in my groin. He drove me
to the edge of ecstasy before he plucked his mouth away. A chill
struck me as the heat evaporated from between my breasts. My
insides were turning and twisting, my butterflies hovered low. His
hands cased up my arms to the fabric that held my hands hostage. He
untangled me and finally I was free to touch him.

Pushing myself up off the bed, my
hands dove straight to the button on his Levi’s. I wanted him out
of his pants, to feel the heat of his entire body. He pulled away
and hopped off the bed, his pants loose around his hips. I wanted
them off altogether.

“
Mmmm, come here,” Max
moaned a low, hot growl as his hands pulled at the air to reign me
in. His earthy green eyes drank up every inch of my body. I tangled
my hands in my unkempt curls before I released them to fall down
over my chest and down to my waist.
I hope
this is working.
I wanted to tease him; to
make him want me so badly he would have no choice but to take me. I
held my finger to the edge of my mouth, my lips pouted, and that
was it. He lunged against me as his hands worked to peel my jeans
off. Even my panties fell victim to his desire.

I pressed my hands to his chest and
slid them around to the small of his back. I pushed my hand between
his Calvin Kleins and the perfect curve of his rear. With my other
hand I caught the waistband of his boxers between my fingers and
forced them down. They fell to the floor fast, he kicked them off,
and we both melted against each other. He was scalding hot as my
butterflies’ wings beat frantically against every erogenous zone in
my body. I felt my knees buckle and every muscle of his warm body
pressed against me where I needed him.

Bringing his lips to mine, he kissed
me like I was a drug he craved more than life. His lips tracked
across my cheek and down to the curve of my shoulder before he
traced the swell of my breast and kissed around my nipple. My back
swayed as he picked me up and I felt my body sail through a chilly
breeze as he laid me on the bed. With my body burning against his,
he inhabited me with his stare, and I let him have me with his
mouth. Max was confident with what turned me on; he knew how to
bring me to the verge of ignition before he twisted me into the
waves of ecstasy. His lips pressed deliciously against the inside
of my thigh before his tongue tasted me. I knotted my hands in the
sheets. I was drenched in such desire, and I wanted to feel his
whole body against mine. I was aching to feel him connect with me
in the way we’d already promised each other.

“
I want you—” I moaned. I
pressed my head into the bed, arched my back, and snatched at his
hair. Hot and cold sparked inside my body as his tongue swirled and
dabbled against me. He owned me and he knew it. I moaned deeply as
his sultry bedroom eyes danced up across my stomach and over my
breasts before telling me that he wanted me too.

Max dragged his chest up
between my thighs and the pressure of his movement across my pelvis
drove me insane. I was ready. My whole body was burning for him.
Instinctual motion took over my whole lower half and my hips
swayed. Our eyes locked and his smile captivated me. He was the
most beautiful person I’d ever looked at in my entire life. He
was
all
I wanted
at that moment.

I felt him press his erection against
me and I knew he was more than ready. With his body heavy against
mine, his muscles flexed as he stretched to his nightstand and
pulled at the drawer. His hair fell across his eyes as he looked
over at me, and his grin told me what he was doing, as the cool air
caressed my body. Slinking back slowly, Max soaked up my entire
body with his sexy gaze. He tore open the condom as our eyes
remained locked. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as he
adeptly unrolled the condom over his erection.

I stretched my hands above my head,
feeling my ribs spread, catching my breath. The muscles in my
stomach tightened as Max slid his hands along the curves of my
hips. His lips planted kisses at every inch between my navel and my
mouth. His kisses drank away all my fears. His stomach, firm
against the apex of my legs, pushed me closer to the edge with
every upward motion. Max’s eyes never left mine.

I relaxed the muscles in my thighs.
Words wouldn’t bring any more clarity to our moment. I was telling
him with my body that I wanted to be engulfed by him, and I craved
to feel him push. I wanted to help him heal. He pulled back and I
watched his lips tighten as he tilted his head slightly to let me
know he wanted to make love. I felt him push, filling me as my
breath caught high in my chest. He stopped, and with his eyes, he
asked if he could continue. I instinctively let my knees drop as
chills rushed my skin and the heat that was building began to steam
to an unbelievable temperature. He thrust his hips a little deeper.
I accepted him. My muscles released, and he was perfect. His
expression held me captive as he let out a low, lengthy breath.
Finally we were one. He pushed further, and all at once, my body
knew what to do. I swayed, he moaned, and we were finally
experiencing the pinnacle of our reason for waiting. Tears swelled
in the corners of my eyes. Our rhythm was slow to begin with,
cautiously experiencing something brand new, but then sped to the
beats of our hearts. Each sway and movement of his hips created a
swell of sensation that robbed my breath and propelled me further
into being his—entirely.

“
I love you, Wilson,” Max
panted as he began to shudder. The momentum was building as if we
were becoming one being. At the same time, a wave of ecstasy broke
and crashed between us, causing me to quake and lose my breath. He
dropped heavily against my chest and his hands tangled in my hair
as he kissed me feverishly. I needed to breathe but welcomed the
weight of his body securing me. Eternity could’ve passed us by and
I wouldn’t have noticed. The tears that had been collecting in my
eyes now flooded over their ledges and across my temples, becoming
tickling reminders of what we’d given each other.

I felt Max’s heart slow down, and his
breath was refreshing as he kissed dry my tears. His face, ripe
with concern, asked whether it was too much at once for me. As he
shifted to lay beside me, cold suddenly reclaimed my skin and
chills vibrated throughout my body. Max pulled the blanket over us,
pulled me tight to his chest, and let his big, muscular leg drape
across mine.

“
Are you okay?” he
whispered across my ear.

I couldn’t say anything; didn’t have
words. I didn’t want to bumble like an idiot or cry like a lunatic,
so I just nodded my head. I wanted to tell him I was more than
okay—that what we did changed me forever—but I couldn’t find the
voice to speak.

“
I didn’t hurt you, did
I?” Concern splashed across his face, like he suddenly realized
that was a possibility.

“
No, it was perfect,” I
choked. I felt the swell of salty tears retrace their paths down
the same lines he’d just kissed away.

“
Perfect? Really? You
don’t think we could practice at getting better?” His voice
caressed the butterflies that now lay dormant, worn out, and
satisfied. I felt his lips pull into a smile as he pressed his nose
across my ear and cleared my tears with his thumbs.

“
I never imagined how
intense and personal it was going to be, especially with someone I
am totally and completely in love with,” I whispered.

“
Mmm humm,” he managed,
his breath warm against the side of my face, before his body became
heavy and his breathing deepened into slow, long, rhythmic breaths.
He was at peace—content, secure, and totally with me.

I didn’t want to fall asleep next to
him, though. Not only was I still reeling from everything that just
happened, I also wanted to watch him and take care of him. My heart
pounded and my mind swirled with thoughts of us being together
forever. I pressed my ear to his chest and heard his heart beat. It
was a rhythm I could get lost in. My eyes closed, and for the first
time in my life, I was truly home.

We lay tangled together, our bodies
steeping at a comfortable temperature that kept us from moving.
Max’s body was my cocoon and I didn’t want anything to disrupt our
moment. Still, the muscles in my body wanted to stretch, bend, and
move—like a new butterfly just discovering it’s freshly sprung
wings.

Upon the sun’s first delicate glimmer
Max stirred, stretching his arm and leg over my torso before
tucking me tighter under his body. I wanted to live in his arms
forever; wanted to listen to his breathing as he held me, consumed
in his embrace.

I felt him press into the mattress as
he shifted and raised his head to look at me. With me still wrapped
in his arms, he smiled and kissed the tip of my nose.

“
Mmmm, good morning,” Max
said as his voice warmed up to being used.

“
Good morning,” I
answered.

I loved waking up next to him. His
touch protected me and his smell charmed me—even his tone worked to
balance me. But I didn’t want to be the one to set the conversation
in motion. I was so scared I’d wake up and realize what happened
between us last night wasn’t real. And I sure as hell didn’t want
to face the reality that he had so much more to deal with than
making me feel good about what we did last night. It was perfect.
Better than perfect—it was us, untainted and unaware of the world’s
judgmental rhetoric about our irresponsibility or thoughtless
choices. Last night was so much more than anyone could
measure.