Page 71 of Tasting Innocence

VIOLET

Chapter Twenty-Eight

From the secondwe left the restaurant, all throughout the drive, and now, walking through the front door of his house, my heart threatens to burst through my chest. My palms feel clammy as I rub my fingers against them. That’s not sexy. I need to get it together.

While getting ready for the date earlier in the evening, I had already made the decision that tonight would be the night I’d lose my virginity. Dex hasn’t pressured me at all. Hell, he’s never even tried. None of that “just the tip” nonsense or guilt-tripping, and I respect the hell out of him for that.

Not to say we haven’t been doing plenty, because we have. We’ve done everything you could possibly do that’s not sex, and now I’m ready. Scared and nervous, but so fucking ready.

“Is your Dad home?” I ask.

“No, he texted me earlier. He’ll be home late tonight.”

“Oh okay.”

Nerves. Awkwardness. Sweat.

What do I do or say? How do you let a guy know you’re ready without saying the words, “I’m ready.”

Dex seems to know what I’m thinking. He turns and faces me, giving me a crooked grin. “You okay?”

I nod and grin. “Yeah, fine.”

“What’re you thinking?” he asks, taking my hands in his.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” He kisses my forehead. “You know we don’t have to do anything. I’m not expecting sex just because we had a date.”

“No, but I…” I trail off, looking to the side, unsure how to finish.

Dex gently grabs my chin and stares into my eyes. “You what, Violet?” I force myself to lock onto his gaze, noticing the way the dark blue edge is nearly taken over by the lighter shade, with just a hint of light brown around the pupil. “Tell me.”

“I-I’m ready.”

His teeth graze over his bottom lip as he pulls it in briefly. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He brings the back of my hand to his mouth and plants a soft kiss before leading me up to his room. Butterflies, both excited and nervous, swirl around in my stomach.

Once inside, he closes the door and sets the lights in his room to a dim, warm glow before taking off his shirt, revealing a white tank top underneath. He lays it on the couch in front of his bed, kicking off his shoes in the process.

Meanwhile, I stand awkwardly near the bed, fumbling with my wristlet as I watch him. When his eyes land on me, I say, “Might want to get a towel.” My cheeks burn hot, no doubt red as apples.

“Right,” he says, not making this any more uncomfortable than it needs to be.

Scarlet was sure to tell me about the blood. Monique said she didn’t bleed a whole lot the first time, but said it was probably because the guy didn’t know what he was doing. She said her second time, she bled all over the backseat of his car. I’d like to avoid ruining his sheets and mattress if possible.

He brings two, lying them on top of his sheets before turning to face me. I toss my wristlet to his nightstand before he captures my face between his hands, pulling me closer, his lips landing on mine in a scorching kiss.

Dex’s hands slip from my face, traveling down my neck, over my shoulders, and down my arms. He turns us around, my legs hitting the side of the mattress, but his lips don’t stray far from mine. Ripples of desire spread across my body, everything inside me a blazing inferno.

Easing away, he undoes the belt at my waist, then slides his fingers under the material at my shoulders, pushing it until it falls loosely down my upper arms. With skilled fingers, he finds the small zipper at the back all while watching me closely. As the zipper lowers, my heart rate picks up speed, and then the dress falls, pooling at my feet.

I’m left wearing only a pair of black panties and a bra to match. He guides me to sit on the bed, and while he undoes his pants, I take off my heels and kick them to the side.

I watch with rapt attention as he strips everything except his boxer-briefs off. My eyes immediately find his growing erection straining against the white material.

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