Page 58 of All Your Firsts Without Me

When he reaches for me, I jump. I scoot my chair away from the table. “He makes me sound like a saint. I’m not a saint, Westin.”

“I think you were to him,” he says, wrapping his good ankle around the bottom of my chair and tugging me close to him. “Talk to me.”

My eyes scan the room, frantically searching for something, anything. I need to change the topic.

“You’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

I huff out a breath, turning to stare at the now dark windows. The only thing I see is the room reflected back to me. It all looks so normal. A couple eating at the dining room table with their little dog sleeping nearby. But none of this is normal. My dead husband basically just told my boyfriend that I’m a virgin.

Maybe I am a little embarrassed.

“He’s right you know. I’ve been terrified about getting undressed in front of you.”

My cheeks pinken, because all I’ve been thinking about lately is seeing him with no clothes on.

“Do you want to see?” he asks, smiling when he notices how red my face is.

I give him a tiny nod. He stands from the table, grabs the bottle of wine and my hand. He pulls me down to his bedroom. The door clicks closed behind us, kicking my heart into overdrive.

He pushes me down gently onto the bed, handing me the bottle of wine. “Drink,” he orders.

As I’m taking a big gulp straight from the bottle, he grabs his shirt from behind, tugging it over his head. My tummy clenches hard. When he drops it to the floor, he gives me a flirty smile. “Your turn.”

I raise my eyebrow in challenge but hand him the bottle. He sits beside me, raising it to his lips. His green eyes are dancing with anticipation. Slowly, I grab the hem of my shirt and raise it, pulling it off over my head.

He chokes on the wine, running his hand over his mouth. “God, April, you are so fucking beautiful.” He sets the bottle on the bedside table, turning to face me.

His dirty words make my stomach tighten as desire pools between my thighs. He reaches out and runs a knuckle over the swell of my breasts. I close my eyes, my breath leaving me. His fingers are calloused from playing the guitar, they gently scratch across my skin. It feels good. When he pulls his hands away, I open my eyes to see him pull his pant leg up.

He kicks his shoe off before removing his prosthetic leg, which starts just below his knee. As he sets it off to the side, I notice his hands are trembling. I get it now. Why the letter wasn’t for me.

David is the saint.

Westin and I both are so lucky to have met him.

I kick my own shoes and socks off and then stand between his legs. Now it’s time for my fingers to shake as I pop the button on my jeans. He stares into my eyes as I lower my pants to the floor and kick them to the side. “I need to show you something.”

He nods before I turn around, letting him see the scars my father left behind. Westin doesn’t say anything, his legs press against the outside of mine as I stand there in nothing but my bra and panties. I want him to see he is not the only one with a tragic past. Our scars are a part of us, sure. But they don’t define us.

When his lips press against the small of my back, I shiver. He chuckles against my skin as he explores my body. His confidence is increasing, I sense it in the way his fingers dig into my thighs as he holds me still.

I reach behind me and flick the clasp on my bra, letting it fall to the floor in front of me. He groans, spinning me to face him. His hands immediately cup my breasts, and oh god, does it feel good. This is a side of Westin I haven’t seen. His hunger grows right before my eyes, but I’m not frightened. I’m excited.

He pulls me down onto his lap, my legs on each side of his hips. I drag myself over his growing erection. It should frighten me but… god, this is so embarrassing to admit… but David made sure I knew what it felt like. I mean yes, I’m technically a virgin, but I’ve… well, you get the idea.

“Jesus, April, you’re so soft.” He runs his nose along my neck, inhaling deeply. I toss my head back letting him lick, bite, suck, whatever he wants, he can have.

He flips us over, laying me not so gently on the bed. He’s so strong. I run my hands over his chest, his abs, until I reach the button on his pants. He draws his head back to watch as my fingers work to release him from his jeans. They are in the way. They have to go. Now.

My fingers are frantic. He chuckles low and wraps his hand around mine. “Shh, slow down. We have plenty of time.” I stare up at him as he towers over me. I’ve never noticed just how big he is. He’s still built like a football player.

He finishes what I started and leans back to push his jeans off. I can tell he’s nervous, but he hides it well. When he hooks his thumbs in the waist band of his boxers, I scramble to push my panties down.

Westin sits back on the bed as I raise myself to sit in front of him. Our eyes roam over each other’s naked bodies. It’s just us, no barriers of clothing to hide our flaws. When our eyes finally find their way back to each other, we both grin at the same time.

---