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I shrug, deciding to continue this introspective journey. “My first time was…” My voice falters. “Awful.”
'Awful' seems a gross understatement. It was the embodiment of my worst fears.
Julian licks his lips, a subtle tension in his jaw betraying his anger. Not at me, but at my ex. That's when the anxiety creeps in, the dread that I've confessed too much. I don't want Julian digging into the past.
“When you’re ready, I'll help you create new memories, Pumpkin,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine.
Wrapped in the cocoon of his presence, I close my eyes, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his breath.
“I didn't say ‘I love you’ to pressure you.” He adds sincerely.
I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. “I want that pressure. I want to erase my past.” I reply. With each night spent in Julian's embrace, that aspiration seems increasingly attainable. Since coming to Lake Tahoe, we've shared a bed, cuddled, and made out every night. I've woken all warm and fuzzy, tangled in his arms.
Cloud Nine has nothing on me. Yet when you live in the clouds, you see thunder and lightning even with the sun still shining.
“When you’re ready, we will,” he promises. “I don’t know what happened, and damn, I wish you’d tell me. But if you’re not ready, I’ll wait. I’m not him, Poppy. I won't hurt you.”
“I know,” I whisper, a fragile admission.
He leans in, his breath caressing my ear. “I promise, the word ‘awful’ will never be part of our story. I want to hear you scream in pleasure, not in pain. I want you so bad, Pumpkin, but the anticipation only sweetens the wait.” His lips graze my ear before tracing a path along my jawline. A shiver courses through me, desire pooling deep within.
Just like that, he vanquishes my demons for the moment.
I lift my hand, guiding his face towards mine for a kiss. Our lips meet, and I'm swept into a sense of...home. A feeling I never imagined rediscovering.
“You feel like home,” I breathe against his lips, deepening our kiss as he does. His hands encircle me, pulling me from my chair onto his lap.
A joyful moan escapes me as our kiss intensifies. My fingers trace the contours of his biceps, then up to his neck, finally tangling in his hair. He sighs softly at the touch.
His hands slip under my shirt, his calloused fingertips contrasting with my soft skin as they ascend. Panting, I break the kiss. “Julian,” I say, my voice heavy with emotion. “I do love you. Truly.”
His grin doesn't just capture my soul; it finds the soul I thought was lost, reeling it back to life within me. I feel cherished and accepted, and the need to live reignites, banishing my despair.
“Say it again?” He beams, and hope sparkles in his eyes.
My smile widens, my cheeks aching. “I love you, Julian Sterling.”
His gaze lingers on mine and lightens to a silver-gray shade. "Please don't ever stop."
Chapter 47
Poppy
“What are you doing?” I sigh as I look at myself in the long mirror.
I pivot from side to side, and my brow arches. I do look good. I like how the lace clings to my hips and breasts, but this... I shake my head. The sexy girl dressed in a lace babydoll dress with a matching white lace thong just isn’t me. It isn’t Julian and my relationship. We are casual and effortless. As hot as this image is, it’s not how I want our first time.
I peel off the lace and replace it with a plain black silk matching PJ set. This is me, and I want Julian to see me the first time we have sex. The leather and lace can be stashed for later when the wrinkles set in, and I feel more desperate to catch his attention.
That’s right. Tonight is the night. It’s our last night in Tahoe, and after everything we have shared, it just feels right.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I've blotted the sweat on my brow so much I’m shocked the hand towel doesn’t have a hole in it from all the rubbing. At first, I swiped so much mascara that it looked like I was applying for a traveling circus, so I had to wash my face and just went for that clean girl makeup vibe. A little skin tint, some blush, and lip gloss that isn't sticky.
Leaning on the bathroom counter, I begin considering my next move with the seriousness of a general plotting a battle strategy. You see, I'm the sort of woman who adores making lists – grocery lists, to-do lists, and now, intriguingly, a sex checklist. There's a peculiar, almost comedic thrill in checking off boxes, a kind of giddy rush that's probably only rivaled by shouting 'Bingo!' in the middle of a heated game at the local community center.
Julian has no idea I’m planning on trying to seduce him tonight. Do I just walk out and straddle him? That’s what Harper would suggest.
I shake my head. I don’t want to call my bestie because she will only cause my anxiety to heighten, no doubt suggesting some sexual routine that only a prima ballerina can contort into.
