Page 303 of The First Time
Chapter Seventeen
Iget the hang of chess by the end of the second game. Even without his queen, Blake destroys me. The board is picked clear of white pieces except for the scared king cowering the corner.
The weight on my chest gets heavier. This is moving too fast. I met Blake two weeks ago and we're already planning our wedding.
Meryl doesn't want us to rush.
Can she really want us to lie?
Blake's phone buzzes. He picks it up. "The car is here." But he doesn't look happy about it.
I don't ask. Instead, I gather my things and follow him outside.
There's a black town car waiting on the street. It's normal compared to the limo. But it lacks privacy.
I want to be alone with him.
I want to surrender to him. To lose myself to the sensations he's creating in my body.
I step into the car, drop my purse on the ground, fold my hands in my lap.
Blake gives the driver instructions. There isn't any traffic right now. We should be in his apartment within forty-five minutes.
That's too long.
He makes me impatient.
There's an itch inside me. I'm desperate to scratch it.
Blake is all the way on the other side of the car. The middle seat is between us. It's only a few feet, but it feels like a million miles.
I don't get his head or his heart.
I need his body.
I need it pressed against mine.
I need to destroy every inch of space between us.
The car pulls onto the main road.
Blake's eyes pass over me. They light up with some mix of desire and curiosity. Am I a mystery to him too? It's hard to imagine. I feel like my heart is on my sleeve. But he looks at me like he can't figure me out.
He leans closer, so his mouth is hovering over my ear.
The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down my spine. My nerves wake up. They scream for attention.
His lips skim my neck. It's feather light, but I feel it everywhere. My sex clenches. My nipples harden. My knees knock together.
He kisses me harder.
His lips trail from my ear to my collarbone.
His fingers skim the neckline of my dress. "Unzip that."
"But—" I nod to the driver. Honestly, it doesn't bother me. No. It's more than that. I like the idea of the driver knowing. Of someone watching. It feels dirty. Wrong in the right kind of way.
"Now." He pulls my skirt up my thighs. "Don't make me ask again."
