Page 51 of Light Up The Night
I hear myself speaking and can't stop the wildly inappropriate question from tumbling out. "And what are my chances of seeing yououtof yoga pants?" She squeaks, a soft, shrill exhale, and buries her face in my chest, and I laugh, stroking the back of her head. "Joking, honey, joking. Mostly."
"Riley, I…"
I groan, head tipped back, and look down at her and lift her chin up so I've got her attention. "Cadence, I'm sorry. I'm not…I'm not trying to….shit, what am I even trying to say? Fuck!" Idrop my forehead to hers. "I'm a dirty-minded old hound dog, okay? I say inappropriate shit, like all the time. I'm not trying to…like…push you into anything you're not ready for or don't want. I'd never pressure you into anything."
"But your inference—that you wish to see me naked…" she drops her voice to a whisper, and if I were looking, I’d see her cheeks flame-red again. "That was at least partially truthful, was it not?”
"How honest am I supposed to be, here, Cadence?” I ask.
"Completely."
"It'll make you uncomfortable."
She sighs, nodding. "I am aware. But…one must face things head-on. Often, with me, I fear things prematurely. I am afraid of the idea of something more than the reality warrants. I am afraid of and uncomfortable with…well, to be as honest with you as I wish you to be with me—I am afraid of and uncomfortable with everything to do with you, Riley. You are completely outside my experience, and thus well beyond the bounds of my comfort zone. Which, admittedly, is somewhat microscopic." She holds my eyes for a moment, fingertips trailing over my cheekbone, following the line of my stubble to the corner of my mouth. "You frighten me. You do things and say things that I…that have never been directed at me. I have never been the object of anyone's desire before, Riley. And you…your seemingly genuine displays of attraction to and desire for me…it is hard for me to reconcile that with my understanding of the way of things. Of who I am in relation to the world. It is confusing. Scary. Not because you are scary, but because I am so unfamiliar with the aspect of life which your interest represents."
"I can understand what you mean," I say. "I don't want you to be afraid of me. Of—of what I'd do. I won't do anything you don't want."
"That is just the issue, Riley—I am finding that Idowant…" she closes her eyes and tries again. "I want toexperiencethings, Riley. It is thrilling beyond explanation when you kiss me. When you…ahhhh, when you put your hands on my body in places no one has ever touched me before. I am often shocked or scandalized by the wicked things you say, but…I also like it. It makes me feel…." she trails off, frowning. “I am uncertain how to phrase it."
"Bluntly."
"Very well." She looks up at me. "Adult. I have lived in the adult world my whole life. I am an only child. Beyond the age of two or so, I was never interested in dolls or toys or children’s books. I have always been more concerned with knowledge. With learning. With adult things. I related more to adults than to my peers. I conversed more freely with my teacher, in the years I attended public schools, than with my schoolmates. I attended a university hundreds of miles from my parents, alone, at sixteen—I was legally emancipated so I could make decisions for myself. I attended classes and lectures with students five and ten years my senior. But yet, even after graduation, even as an intern and resident, I never felt fullyadult. Because of my social naïveté, especially as regards romance and…and the things that go with it." She looks at me again, intently yet briefly. "To return to your inference regarding seeing me unclothed…"
My gut flips, and my heart hammers. "Cadence, I…"
"I will not be offended, no matter what you may say. I will not be angry. Or disgusted. I will not think less of you. I may not always be able to understand what you are thinking or what the truth is beneath the obvious of what you say, but I can tell when you are lying or omitting the truth. And to me, dishonesty, whether through lies or omission, is…far more offensive than a blunt, bold, inappropriate, or vulgar truth."
"In that case," I say, brushing my fingers over her temples and behind her ears. "If I wasn’t scared to fuckin' death of rushing you into something or pressuring you to do something you're not really ready for, I'd have you naked right now."
She whines in her throat, averting her gaze and blushing furiously. "Riley, my goodness."
"I'd kiss you until you can't breathe, Cadence. I'd show you all the amazing things your body is capable of feeling."
Her fingers knot in my shirt until she's fisting the front of it with shaky hands. "You tempt me, Riley." She glances at me, curiosity on her face. "The things you would show me…are they all as delightful and intoxicating and…and addictive as kissing?"
"Addictive?" I echo.
She looks at my mouth, unblinking, eyes wide. "Yes. Since that first kiss, I find myself quite unable to think of nearly anything else." She bites her lower lip, hard. "I confess to being in a similar state as regards the placement of your hands. I was shocked at first when you touched my bottom, but now, I…" red cheeks go redder, and she squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip again. "I have not stopped thinking of it. Most especially, I cannot stop thinking about how it felt when you paired the two together."
I claim her mouth, part her lips with my tongue and taste her, feel her tongue slide hesitantly against mine, and then I let my hands ghost down her back…and fill my hands with her ass.
Fuck—so tight, so plump, so round. My god, I need this woman naked.
I need her screaming my name.
FUCK.
Of all the women in the world for me to develop feelings like this for, it has to beher? The sweetest, most adorable, most innocent, lily-white, pure-as-the-driven-snow virgin on the entire planet.
She whimpers at my touch, arching into me, pressing her tits against me—and yeah, those babies are definitely gonna be as glorious as this ass. I'm not about to push my luck, though. I genuinely care about her. I genuinely do not want to scare her or pressure her or traumatize her.
Her hands flatten over my shoulders, and she lifts up on her toes, deepening the kiss, opening her mouth wide for me. My god, she's incredible. The way she melts into me, pressing every soft curve against my body as if she craves me…although I highly doubt she knows what it is she really wants, what she's asking for when she melts against me like that.
Her hands slide around my neck, and she's pressed against me completely—hips to hips, thighs to thighs, belly to belly, tits squashed between us. Shehasto feel my hard-on—there's no way she can't.
She pulls back enough to whisper. "When you kiss me like that, I forget to be nervous or afraid. My mind slows down in way I have never experienced except when I am attending a patient or performing surgery."
"Is that a good thing?" I ask.
