Page 11 of Sweet Virgin

“I do.” Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I nodded, trying not to look him in the eye. It was these damn nerves driving me insane. My body was no longer under the control of my brain.

There wasn't any rational thoughts floating around inside my head. All I could see when I looked at Kealen was his naked form calling me in. Every move of his hands, every twitch of a brow or snap of his chest. . .

And I was hijacked by sexual desire.

“Then I know just where to go.” Taking my hand in his, he braided our fingers together and led me out the door.

The electricity spiraled up my arm, hitting my chest. My lungs felt heavy, my heart skipped beats as he squeezed his fingers around mine. It was the first time I had held a real man's hand.

The last boyfriend I had was almost three years ago, and holding his hand felt nothing like this. He was a boy, Kealen was a man.

Kealen held my hand with purpose, with strength and experience. Experience I didn't have, but wanted; experience I didn't know, but needed.

I wasn't about to let go. Not this time, this time I wasn't going to let myself become jittery and awkward. I wanted his hand around mine, even if it was only there to pull me along and not let me shy away.

Strolling down the street, his hand stayed firmly tangled in mine, not once did he try to let go. He held on, gripping tighter, and moving closer. There was this energy between us, so strong I couldn't ignore it.

What if it's just me?

What if he's just being nice?

This fear of unrealistic emotions sat in the front of my mind. I had no experience, I had no idea how to tell the difference between kindness and actual intent.

How could I know for sure that I wasn't over analyzing his actions or touch?

What if he was just old fashioned, raised in a family that burned respect and tradition into his bones?

Then all of this, every last ounce, could just be normal for him.

Kealen could be a man whose instinct was to coddle an old woman as she crossed the street or bringing out groceries to their car. Maybe he didn't even think twice about grabbing my hand as we left because it was the courteous thing to do.

I was struck with the urge to let go, to slip my hand free from his and stop thinking I was feeling something that wasn't really there. I didn't want to feel the embarrassment of being wrong. It was easier for me to push him away than it was for me to let him in. That's if he wanted to be'in'to begin with.

There was no way I was going to make a fool of myself and let my emotions get the best of me. Trusting my instincts wasn't second nature, it was hard to open up and not question the motives behind someone else.

Loosening my hand, I let the pads of my fingers break free first. Slowly I let my hand fall flat, drifting out of his.

But he didn't follow suit, he curled his fingers deeper, gripping tighter and sucking my hand back in. “How long did you plan on staying here?” he asked, bumping into my shoulder as we walked.

He isn't letting my hand go.

Maybe I'm not crazy and there is something between us.

I wasn't sure if the bump was intentional or by accident, but I couldn't help but feel the flirtation in his touch. Smiling to myself, I re-clasped my hand and glanced off to my left so he couldn't see the grin that had popped up on my face over something so small.

It was such a tiny gesture, but to me it was confirmation that I might not be imagining the energy between us.

“I planned on staying for a little while, but now I'm not sure.” Shrugging my shoulder, I kept looking around at the beauty this little town sparkled with.

The street was lined with small shops that had hand painted signs hanging in the windows. There were no big flashy lights or giant billboards of models—or my face—set high in the sky.

The road was built with small cobblestones and shells, the streetlights all looked like they were the original ones from when the town first popped up on the map. The only notable difference was the soft glow of a luminescent bulb, replacing the natural flicker of a flame.

I felt his eyes watching me, observing my wonder around us. “What is it about this place that reminds you of home?”

“The ocean.” I didn't have to think about the answer, it was the only thing that gave me comfort. Taking in a deep breath, I let the salty air fill my lungs. “I love that smell, that sound. It brings back good memories.”

“If you love the memories, why'd you leave?”

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