Page 49 of The Player Penalty
“Feel.” Julian places my hand over his pants, covering it with his own before I can draw away. “My dick got hard the second you walked through the door with me. Attraction won’t be a problem, believe me.” He presses against me, and my hips knock the table’s edge. I glance back at it, wondering. “Your first time won’t be with us both half-dressed on a table. It’ll be in there.” He points to another room. The open door reveals a dresser’s edge disappearing into shadows.
Hope grows in me, knocking back all my unspoken fears. I keep placing my trust in Julian, and he keeps showing himself worthy of it. “This is new to me, so you’ll need to tell me what to do. I have no experience with any of this.”
“Yeah, that turns me on,” he says, with not even a hint of embarrassment, before biting his lip. “The first thing you need to do is not flirt with other men in my presence. I don’t enjoy it.”
That’s another reference to his possessive nature. It’s strange because he doesn’t display that part of himself with any other part of his life. He doesn’t begrudge other racers their successes, Boone Rivers’ business, or anyone else’s relationships. It makes sense if genuine friendship is as rare for him as it is for me.
“Not in front of you,” I say. Julian blinks, and his face darkens. “Not while we’re experiencing…benefits.” That’s the word he used, correct?
“I’ll do the same for you.”
“What’s next?” Please kiss me. Please. Please. “I’m not ready to go home yet.”
“I’m not ready for you to leave.” He tilts my chin up with his thumb. “I get your first kiss; that’s what’s next.”
Julian’s body and the heavy wooden table are all that keep me from collapsing on the floor. I should say something, but I can only summon a desperate nod. My cheeks burn.
He leans in, and my breath hitches. Knowing what’s coming, I grab his shirt, foolishly believing I’ll fall over from the tension and pleasure of it all. His lips touch mine, and all my nerves and fear leave, so all that remains is Julian, the man I’ve secretly crushed on, kissing me. He wanted my first kiss, and he took it. My eyes close, the better to etch every moment into my memory, to remember the feel of his chest against mine, his hands gripping my waist. He licks my lower lip, and something low in my belly flutters.
“Lily.” Julian pulls away.
His lips remain against mine, so close our breath mingles. My lips brush against his when I speak. “What’s wrong?”
Why else would he stop?
“Open your eyes.” They flutter open and meet his. It’s only a moment, an opportunity to check for reassurance or permission or something else. “Your mouth, too. Let me in.”
Let him in where?
Julian’s tongue touches mine, and it’s a soft exploration. My body burns, desperate for more, more. I stroke up his chest to his shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to pull him even further inside of me. He obliges, lifting me onto the table and forcing my legs apart.
The faint taste of beer lingers, and it combines with his body’s heat and strength. It’s heady, and all I want is to beg for more, to demand more of him. For once, I had enough courage for both of us to make this kiss happen. My perfect, perfect first kiss.
He reaches under my dress, ghosting along my thighs to the edge of my panties. I moan, and his mouth captures it. I want more, but there’s no way to ask because his lips are still on mine, and I don’t want it to stop.
Julian says my name again; it’s a question and a plea. I lift my hips, knowing what he wants, and my panties slide down my legs before he abandons them to the floor.
He pulls back. Our kiss ends, and I sob at the sudden loss of contact.
Julian’s eyes roam over my body. His cheek and neck have grown ruddy. His hair is a mess. I don’t recall playing with it.
“How was it?” I ask.
Julian drops soft kisses along my cheeks and down my neck. “I should ask that question.” He strokes along the dress’s bodice, considering whether to remove it, before pulling his hand away. “Since you asked, I’ll fall asleep tonight with a hand on my dick while imagining you without this dress on. Now, spread your legs for me.”
Shock hits, and I don’t move. “But I thought…”
“We aren’t, not tonight,” he says to my unasked question. “I still want more of you. Spread your legs.”
I do, feeling exposed all the while. Julian pulls the skirt until I sit exposed before him. He rubs one thigh, letting his hand fall between my legs.
Julian’s tongue falls out, teasing me with what he plans. “Lay down.” He pulls off his shirt and slides it under my head. “Is that better?” he asks and smiles at my nod. “Do you know what I’m going to do?”
“I have a good idea.” A small part of me wants to slap my knees shut. This is new, and anxiety is screaming again. I’m not sure what’s expected, and right now, it feels like he only wants to please me.
“You’re in control of this. If we go too far, or you want me to stop, we stop. Got it?”
“I understand. Don’t stop.”
