I keep talking about unforgettable moments, and this is one of them for sure. Maybe a top moment in our lives so far, because hello, we’re about to have sex for the very first time.
The very first time.
I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.
“Amanda.” His voice is ragged against my neck and he’s grabbing handfuls of my dress. “Let’s take this off.”
I help him get rid of the dress and when he sees me in only my black lacy thong and matching demi bra, he groans and covers his eyes like he can’t stand it.
“Damn, you are trying to kill me, I swear.”
“You’re trying to kill me too.” I reach for the waistband of his pants and slide my fingers beneath it, touching soft, hot skin and making him shiver. I slowly undo the button and pull the zipper down. “These need to come off, too.”
He shucks them off fast, and then we’re both only in our underwear. His erection strains against the front of his boxer briefs and I can’t stop staring. That is going to be inside of me in mere minutes.
Will it fit?
Will it hurt?
Will I like it?
I’m guessing the answer to all three questions will be yes, yes, yes.
“You know I’ve never done this before, right?” I ask him, my voice shaky, my entire body shaky. I’m so nervous and excited.
“I know.” He touches my cheek, his thumb streaking across my swollen lips. His face is somber, not even a trace of a smile as he says, “You know I haven’t done this before either, right?”
Wait.
A.
Minute.
I smile. Try to blow his statement off with a little bit of humor. “You’re joking, right?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
He is as solemn as I’ve ever seen him as he slowly shakes his head no.
“I’m serious.”
I close my eyes and now I’m the one shaking my head, laughing a little. Laughing a lot. He must be joking. This is a trick. A weird one, but a trick nevertheless. “Okay, you’re so funny. The joke is on me, ha ha.”
“Amanda.” He tugs on my hand, and the next thing I know we’re kneeling on the bed facing each other. “I’m dead serious. I’ve never done this before.”
“But you’re the blowjob king,” I blurt.
He frowns. “What?”
“Well, not that you give blow jobs.” Oh God, I’m messing this up so freaking bad. I need to shut up. Yet I can’t. “But you let girls give you blow jobs like, all the time.”
“Well, yeah, but I told you before that number was grossly exaggerated.”
I blink at him. “So there isn’t an endless list of girls you’ve hooked up with?”
He shakes his head.
“And you’ve never had sex with any of them.”
“No.” His voice is firm.
“Not even Lauren Mancini.”
His irritable sigh tells me he can hardly tolerate my question. “Not even with Lauren Mancini.”
My mind is officially blown.
“What have you done?” I ask, then shake my head. “Wait a minute, maybe I don’t want to know.”
“I’ve done a few things. I’m not a saint, I’ve messed around.” He studies me carefully. “I’d never gone down on a girl before until you.”
“Wait, what?” But he did it so…well.
He looks faintly embarrassed. His cheeks are ruddy and everything. “Yeah. I just went on pure instinct with that.”
Oh my God. So he’ll get better at it? Lucky me.
“The rumors about me are so overblown. And I never bothered arguing them. Most of the stuff people say about me is pure bullshit.” He takes my hand, brings it to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. “You’re the only one who knows the real me.”
Aww. That is the sweetest thing. This entire night has been amazing. So amazing I can’t take it anymore. I tackle him, sending him backwards on the bed so I’m on top of him, our underwear the only barrier between us.
“I love you,” I whisper just before I kiss him. I can’t stop kissing him. The kisses become more and more intense, and then his hands start to wander, and my hands start to wander. My bra is discarded. So are my panties. He rolls over so he’s on top of me, I help him get rid of his boxer briefs and then we’re naked. Skin on skin, hot and hard against soft and smooth, and oh my God, I am about to lose my mind right now.
“Let me get a condom,” he says, grabbing the box from his bedside table and pulling out a packet. He tears open the wrapper and pulls away from me so he’s on his knees, rolling the condom on.
I watch because it’s fascinating and I’m in awe of everything that is Jordan Tuttle. His body is beautiful. I want to kiss him all over.
But I’m also nervous.
“Are you scared?” he asks when our gazes meet.
“A little.”
His smile is almost bashful. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“We should take it slow,” I suggest.
“You see, that’s always a problem with you. Taking it slow.” He pushes me so I’m lying flat on my back and he’s hovering above me. “I can never do that when it comes to you.”
“Take it slow?”
“Yeah. You make me greedy.” He starts kissing my neck. “Hungry.” My chest, my breasts, licking and sucking and nibbling and oh God. “So fucking hungry, Mandy. I can’t take it.”
His mouth is everywhere. His hands are everywhere. He’s positioned just above me, ready to slip inside, and I spread my legs wider, ready for him. His mouth is on mine, the kiss sloppy and wet and full of tongue and ever so slowly, he pushes inside of me.
I wince. My entire body tenses and he pauses, his breathing harsh as he hovers above me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod and he slips deeper, making me gasp. “It just…hurts a little.”
“Damn, Amanda.” He sounds in agony, and then we’re kissing again, my arms slung around his neck as I try to bring him in closer.
This is the part when I could say I see fireworks and we come together in a symphony of magical lovemaking. But that would be a lie. It’s definitely magical, yes, because it’s the two of us together, having sex for the very first time. We’re in love with each other, and that makes it even more special. So it isn’t just some casual hookup, you know?
But it isn’t perfect. No, more like it’s a little awkward and painful and kind of weird, but once we figure out what we’re doing and I get over the initial pain, it’s really good.
So good.
When we finish, our bodies are slick with sweat and we’re both out of breath. The music has long stopped playing and the only light in the room comes from the two flickering candles Jordan lit before we started. He gets rid of the condom and crawls back into bed, pulling me close so I’m snuggled up to his side, our legs tangled, my head on his shoulder.
“Where do your parents think you are tonight?”
“Livvy’s house.” Like I could tell them where I’m really at.
“Where’s Livvy at?”
“I think she’s having Kyla over to spend the night.” Livvy went to winter formal with—you guessed it—Dustin, but they’re still not official. Talk about taking it slow. And Kyla went with Blake and they were so cute together.
“Would you rather be with them?”
“Um, no.” I nudge him in the ribs, making him grunt. “This was a lot more fun.”
He starts to laugh. “Fun? That’s one way to put it.”
“I bet it gets even better the more we do it,” I suggest shyly.
Jordan glances down at me, his eyes glowing in the near darkness, his smile wide. “You want to keep doing it?”
“Don’t you?” I ask innocently.
His hands skim my ribs and then he starts tickling me, making me laugh. Making him laugh. We roll around on the bed trying to tickle each other, but then we start kissing and it turns into something more and…
Yeah. It’s even better the second time around.
And
the third.
Maybe even the fourth.
You know what I mean.
“You two make such an adorable couple.” Mom is watching us sit together on the old, saggy couch that’s been in our since I can remember. Jordan and I just smile at her, my hand clutched in his, his thumb absently stroking my skin. It’s a far cry from that first time he came to the house for Sunday dinner and she asked him what he was doing with me.
Yeah, not one of my favorite moments.
It’s the Sunday before Christmas, which just so happens to be Christmas Eve. Mom and Dad invited Jordan over for dinner and we’ve already eaten what felt like a ton of food. Now we’re sitting in the living room, ready to open Christmas presents because my parents have completely come around and they embrace Jordan like he’s a part of the family.
I think it’s because they realize just how happy I am with him, and how good he makes me feel. When I’m around him, I can’t stop smiling. Seriously, it’s like I have some sort of smiling disease, and he acts the same way, I swear. We’re good for each other, Jordan and I.
“Let’s open presents!” Trent yells, making everyone laugh, with the exception of our mother.
She sends Trent a stern look. “Your daddy is almost done in the kitchen.” He’s making his famous spiked egg nog, though I’m sure he won’t let us have any. “Once he’s sitting with us, then we can open presents.”
Mom is allowing all of us to open the few presents we have from relatives who live out of town. The majority of our present opening will happen tomorrow morning, and then again when my mom’s family comes for Christmas dinner. It’s going to be loud and crazy and our small house is going to be full of a lot of people.
It’s going to be awesome.
“Are you sure you can’t come over tomorrow?” I ask Jordan for about the thousandth time. He keeps turning down my invitation, telling me he doesn’t want to interfere with our family’s day. He doesn’t understand that we think of him as family and we want him at our house.
I’m almost desperate to have him with us. I can’t stand the thought of him spending Christmas alone. I’m pretty sure his parents are both out of town right now.
Meaning they are the absolute worst parents alive.
Jordan sighs and slings his arm around my shoulders, tugging me in close. Despite the shabbiness of our home, he never says a word, never reacts, never complains. I think he’s comfortable here, and I love that.
I love him.
“Do you really want me here tomorrow?” he asks, his voice low, his gaze meeting mine. I see uncertainty there. Vulnerability. My heart cracks and I’m overwhelmed by the love I feel for him. “I don’t want to intrude—”
I press my hand over his mouth, cutting him off. We do this to each other all the time now. “Stop. You’re never intruding. We want you here.”
“Yes, Jordan. We want you here,” Mom says just as I drop my hand from his mouth.
He leans in to steal a quick kiss and then he’s smiling at my mother. “All right then, I’ll come over tomorrow.”
“Great. Now let’s open presents,” Trent says irritably.
Dad and George walk into the living room and go straight to the tree twinkling in the corner. Mom cues up the Christmas music on the satellite radio and soon we’re all opening presents. My mom knit Jordan a beautiful black scarf and he immediately wraps it around his neck. Trent tears into his presents so fast he sullenly watches the rest of us open ours, a cloud of wrapping paper surrounding him.
Jordan gives my parents a gift card to one of the fancier restaurants in town and Mom about hugs him to death when she sees it, saying, “You shouldn’t have!” over and over again.
“Since you’re coming over tomorrow, I’ll wait and give your gift to you then,” I tell Jordan once we’re done unwrapping our presents.
“Well, I’m giving you yours now,” he says, presenting me with a small box wrapped in gold foil paper and topped with a bright red bow.
Oh. It’s small. Looks like jewelry, which makes me incredibly nervous. I take the box from him and unwrap it with trembling fingers, anxious to discover what’s inside. The wrapping paper reveals a black velvet box, and when I slowly pop it open, I gasp at what I find tucked inside.
A ring. A delicate band of rose gold with a small sapphire in the center, flanked by tiny diamonds on either side.
It’s beautiful.
“So pretty,” I whisper as I take the ring out of the box and study it. He plucks the ring from my grasp and takes my hand, sliding the band on the ring finger of my left hand.
I actually hear my mom squeal when he does this.
“I love it,” I tell him just before I lunge for him and wrap him in the tightest hug I can muster. “I love you,” I whisper in his ear just before I kiss it.
He slides his fingers through my hair, skims them across my nape, making me shiver. “I love you too.”
Later, after we clean up the wrapping paper mess and eat Mom’s homemade pumpkin pie while watching Trent play his new video game for a while, Jordan and I are about to go outside on the front porch before he leaves for the night when Mom stops us.
“Your father and I have discussed it, and Jordan, we’d like to invite you to stay the night if you want to,” she offers. “Amanda mentioned to me earlier that there’s no one home right now for you, and I hate to think of you alone on the night before Christmas.” The tremulous smile on Mom’s face tells me she’s about to cry. The holidays always make her emotional. “Please say yes. All I can offer is the pullout couch, and it’s not the most comfortable thing in the world, but we’d love to have you stay.”
“I’d like that, Mrs. Winters.” He smiles at my mom and she envelopes him in a quick hug before she pulls away. “Thank you.”
“If you need clothes to sleep in or whatever, I’m sure George has some,” Mom suggests, fluttering her hands around like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. I have a strong feeling she thought Jordan would turn her offer down.
I’m so glad he didn’t.
“I have my gym bag out in my car,” Jordan tells her. “I have a change of clothes in there.”
Mom beams, all traces of her near crying long gone. “Perfect. Go get it, but hurry! It’s cold out there.”
We go outside and I stay on the porch while Jordan runs to his Range Rover and grabs his gym bag. I watch him amble back up the porch stairs, my heart swelling at the sweet look on his handsome face, the excitement dancing in his eyes. He loves that my parents invited him to stay over.
I love that he’s staying over too.
“Do you like the scarf my mom made you?” I ask him when he rejoins me on the front porch.
“Yeah. It’s really nice. And warm.” It’s still twisted around his neck and he gives one of the ends a tug. “Did she make you one too?”
“Oh yeah. She does every year. I just haven’t opened it yet.” I grin. “I have a huge collection of Mom’s homemade scarves, and so does the rest of my family.”
“Guess I need to catch up then,” he says sheepishly, and I can’t take it anymore.
I tackle him right there on the porch, kissing him with all I have. I’m so forceful, he drops his gym bag on the porch and his arms go around me, holding me tight as he kisses me hungrily. We’ve been holding back all night, trying to be discreet in front of my family, and now it feels like a dam just burst.
“Okay, stop,” he finally says minutes later, pushing me away from him. Though not too far. “Or we might get arrested for public indecency.”
This makes me giggle. “Are you going to maul me on my front porch?”
The sexy look on his face tells me he’s considering it. “Don’t tempt me.”
A shiver moves through me and he pulls me back into his arms. “Cold?”
“Yes.” But happy. So happy. The porch is lit from the glow of the Christmas lights Dad puts up every year, and pretty much every house on our street is lit up as well. “Oh! I want to give you something.?
??
He frowns. “What?”
I wiggle out of his hold and pull the small wrapped box out of the pocket of my cardigan. “This is for you.”
His frown deepens as he stares at the box I’m holding before he lifts his gaze to mine. “I thought you were giving me my gift tomorrow.”
“I have two presents for you. This is the special one. The other one can wait until Christmas.” Tomorrow’s gift is a bottle of cologne that will make me want to lick him every time I smell him.
A real win-win gift, if you ask me.
He takes the present from me and slowly unwraps it to reveal a simple black box. He pulls off the lid and finds the men’s silver link bracelet I bought for him. Lifting his head, he smiles at me. “I love it.”
“Really?” I stressed over his gift so much. I took the girls to the jewelry store and had them help me pick it out. They reassured me it was perfect, but I still worried he might not like it.
“Really,” he says firmly, taking the bracelet out of the box. “Will you help me put it on?”
I take the bracelet from him and hook it around his wrist. It looks good on him and I smile, tracing my finger over the silver links. “You don’t mind wearing a bracelet?”
“I will wear anything from you with no complaints.” He drops a kiss on my cheek then runs his finger over my new ring. “Do you like your present?”
“I love it so much.” I hold my hand out and spread my fingers, admiring my new ring. It’s so tiny and dainty and perfect. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Not as gorgeous as you,” he says, his voice low. I turn to meet his gaze and see the heat there. The hunger. Goosebumps sweep over me as he leans in and kisses me again, his tongue sweeping my mouth, his hand cradling my cheek.
The front door swings open, causing us to spring apart, and Trent is standing there with a disgusted look on his little face. “Mom says you two need to come in before you freeze to death, but I’m telling on you. Mom, Amanda and Tuttle are making out on the front porch!”
The door slams before I can hear what anyone else said.
“Should we go inside?” Jordan asks, his eyes sparkling with amusement. That he can tolerate my pain in the butt brother says a lot about his character.