For Life (6 page)

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Authors: L.E. Chamberlin

Tags: #Reclaimed Hearts

BOOK: For Life
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February 1996

Grady

 

All week I begged and bribed my brother to let me borrow his car so I could take Cassie somewhere special to give her the gift I bought her for Valentine’s Day. All week he said he’d think about it, and I just knew the answer was going to be no. I was positive I’d have to take my mom’s station wagon instead of Carl’s Camaro, and it was killing me. The station wagon is roomy, which helps when I want to take Cassie somewhere quiet and make out, but it always makes me feel like a kid, which isn’t what I’m going for tonight.

Today it’s snowing, and I thought for sure Carl wouldn’t let me take his baby on the road in this weather, but he must be feeling generous, because he drops the keys in my hand with a wink and says, “Go get your girl. Have fun tonight.” For a second I think he’s kidding until he tells me it’s going to need gas, especially if I have to leave it idling and run the heater. He laughs at my red face and slaps my shoulder affectionately. Best brother in the world.

I knock on her door and there she is, my girl, even more beautiful than ever. She pulls on her coat and is barely out the door before I grab her and kiss her, long and deep and slow. I haven’t seen her much this week and it’s been killing me. When she wraps her arms around me I want to squeeze her and never let her go. “Mmm, you smell good,” I breathe into her hair.

She laughs softly and whispers, “Get me out of here.” Hand in hand we run to the car, and as I open the door to let her in she realizes what I’m driving tonight. “Oh my God!” she squeals. “How did you get him to let you drive his car? He never lets anybody drive it!”

“I know. He’s in a good mood, I guess.” She slides in and I close the door carefully behind her.

“So I guess his breakup with Chrissy isn’t bothering him that much, huh?” she asks as I slip behind the wheel and put the car in reverse to back out of her driveway.

I shrug. “It’s weird. He hasn’t really mentioned it, so I guess not. They’re still good friends, I think. He just said they weren’t meant to be more. I think she wanted to get serious and he wasn’t into it.”

Cassie’s dark eyes flash and she teases me, “You serious about me?”

I grin at her and shake my head. “Nah, not really.”

She giggles and slides her hand over my knee, halfway up my thigh, and I have to cover it with my own to keep her from going any higher. “How about now?” she coos.

“Cass, come on. You’re gonna make me crash,” I groan.

I’m answered with a tinkly laugh and her lips tickle my ear. “Where are we going?” she whispers. Her hand hasn’t stopped squeezing my leg and I want nothing more than to pull this car over and pin her to the seat.

“Surprise.” I manage to keep us on the road as I turn into Danville Park, which is secluded and rarely patrolled by local cops. I’m hoping we’ll have enough time for me to give her the gift and spend some time making out uninterrupted.

We park on the edge of the bluff. Danville Park is at the highest peak in the county, which isn’t saying much since Delaware is flat as a pancake, but from this slight elevation we can see the twinkly lights of the industrial district and the surrounding neighborhoods. Snow drifts slowly down, disappearing when it hits the windshield. I leave the car running and make sure the parking brake is on before I tumble over the back of the driver’s seat into the back. “Come on,” I invite her, and she climbs over without hesitation, crashing into me with a giggle.

I tug the zipper of her jacket and she takes the hint, stripping it efficiently away from her body and tossing it over the back of the seat. She’s wearing something tight and black, I see, which is so unlike her that I stop to admire it. The top is low-cut, and I can see the soft swells of her tits. The pants are nothing more than leggings, not jeans like I thought. She crawls on top of me and I kiss her and knead her ass through the thin fabric. I can’t feel a panty line, and I wonder if she’s wearing underwear. The thought excites me, and I rub against her, trying to get some relief. She’s soft and eagerly moving against me, which makes me even hornier.

She sighs and murmurs against my mouth, “I have something for you.”

Her words bring me out of my haze. “I do too.” I tell her. “It’s in the glove compartment.”

“It’s something I can unwrap now?” she asks, her face lighting up.

I nod and she pulls away from me, climbing halfway over the seat to reach into the glove box. I can’t help myself from squeezing her butt when it’s practically in my face, and Cassie pretends to protest but doesn’t mean it. She squeals in delight when she discovers the little box with the big red bow and plops back into the seat, cuddling against me, turning her face up for a kiss. I kiss her slow this time, the taste of her mouth familiar but still just as exciting as ever. She melts into the kiss, sweet as ever, and we’re both breathless when I force myself to break the kiss so she can open my gift.

“Go ahead,” I tell her, and she tears eagerly at the silver patterned wrap, her fingers revealing the jeweler’s box in seconds. When she realizes where the gift is from, she looks up at me in surprise. “Open it,” I urge, and with shaking hands she pulls the lid from the box to reveal the necklace I knew I had to buy her when I saw it in the store window, even though it meant dipping into my car fund to afford it.

Cassie holds it up, and the tiny speck of a diamond between the entwined gold hearts glints in the moonlight. “It’s beautiful,” she marvels, fingering the delicate chain. “It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” She pulls my face to hers and thanks me tenderly, first with words and then with a long, passionate kiss as I hook the necklace.

“I got you something, too,” she whispers with a sly smile.

“You did?” I always think Valentine’s Day is a holiday for the girls, not for the guys. But I’ve never had a serious girlfriend on Valentine’s Day, so what do I know?

"You have to unwrap it,” she instructs me, sliding my hands under the bottom of her shirt. I don’t quite get her meaning until she looks at me expectantly, and I realize she wants me to take her shirt off.

This I can do.

I slip my hands under her shirt, copping a feel of her soft skin, eager to be close to her like this. Lately we’ve been nearly naked together every chance we get, but we haven’t done it yet. I want to - God, I really want to - but Cassie is a virgin so I want to take it slow and make our first time really special. But it’s hard when she’s whispering my name, arching herself into me as I strip her tight shirt from her body.

Then I see it. Cassie’s wearing a new bra, a sexy red one that makes her look like a girl from the Victoria’s Secret catalog. Her pale skin shows through the lace, and it’s cut low enough that I can tug it down just a little and expose her nipple. Which I do, my eyes never leaving her body. As gifts go, this one is pretty great. She’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her.

“You like it?” she asks.

“Yes,” I croak, my fingers brushing over her nipple. She gasps and I tug the other breast free so both are popped out of the top of her bra. It might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, even hotter than her naked tits. Knowing she wore this just for me, that she was in a store thinking about taking her shirt off for me and wearing this… It embarrasses me to think about how turned on I am by that.

The necklace gleams above her bare breasts, framed by the red straps of her bra. Fuck, she’s sexy.

I’m so hard right now. Cassie straddles me and places my hands on her hips. I know what I’m supposed to do. I yank her pants down quickly and am rewarded with more red lace, such a tiny piece of it covering her I can scarcely breathe. I trace my hands over her soft belly, touch the lace V that covers a part of her I’ve touched but never seen, and my mouth goes dry. She looks at me with complete trust, and there’s something else in her eyes, too. The look she gives me makes me bold enough to touch the lace between her thighs again, and when I do it she sighs softly.

Jesus.

I slide my hands around to grip her ass, and I’m met with bare skin. Confused, I feel around until my fingers hook into a thin string. She’s wearing a thong, and just knowing that makes me groan, loudly. “Cass…” My sweet girl wearing sexy underwear for me. It’s hot as hell.

I have to see it from the back. I yank her pants past her knees and turn her so she’s facing the window and I’m behind her. She has the most perfect ass, round and soft and paler than the rest of her, and the red string disappearing between her butt cheeks makes me think really filthy thoughts. But I check myself and touch her gently, the way she likes, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and tracing my fingers down her spine. My mouth follows and I kiss her shoulders and then her back, my hand cupping her ass the whole time. I give it a light squeeze and Cassie whimpers.

And then she looks at me over her shoulder and says, “You still didn’t finish unwrapping your present.”

I tug off her boots and pants, leaving her socks on so her feet don’t get cold. Then I strip off my own shirt and unzip the fly of my jeans, rewarded with sweet relief when my hard-on finally has some breathing room. “All unwrapped,” I whisper in her ear, pulling her against me. I’m looking forward to touching her like this, maybe having her touch me like she did last time. The memory makes my dick twitch - Cassie’s hand tight around it, stroking me slowly, until I came. And the look on her face when I did, like she was pleased with herself. So damn sexy.

But now she’s impatient. “No. Unwrap me,” she commands, her tone frustrated.

And finally I get it. She’s going to let me see her naked. Oh God. My fingers fumble with her bra hook, suddenly clumsy. It slips from her shoulders and the second the straps slide down her arms I’m already tugging down her thong. It catches around her ankles and I leave it there, turning her so she’s facing me and capturing her mouth with mine. My hands roam all over her naked flesh, marveling at the silkiness of her skin, the softness of every inch of her. Naked. With me. For me.

She pulls me down on top of her so that we’re half-reclined in the backseat. Kicking her foot free from her thong, she wraps her leg around me and through my thin boxers I can feel her. Hot. Wet.

I groan and roll my hips against hers. She rakes her nails down my back, making me shiver against her, and then she thinks she’s done something wrong.

“You don’t like that?” she asks timidly.

“I do, I do,” I promise. “I love it.” She does it again, her nails digging into me a bit, and I can’t resist the urge to thrust against her. I watch her face as I do it and she bites her lip. I reach between us and touch her like I did before, my fingers rubbing her the way she showed me. Within seconds she’s trembling and panting and arching against my hand. I slip my fingers into her and she’s so wet. Soaked. I bury my face in her neck where I can be surrounded by the scent of her while my fingers explore her heat. It’s fucking heaven.

“I want to,” she whispers in my ear. “Right now, I want to, Grady.”

“You want to?” I ask. I’m still not exactly sure what she means. “You want to…?”

“Do it,” she says in a husky voice that makes me draw back to look at her, surprised. Her eyes are bright as she continues. “Have sex. Make love.” A smile plays on her lips. “Fuck.”

I really don’t need more encouragement than that. I keep one hand between her thighs and fumble in my jeans, now around my ankles, with the other, but I can’t find what I need. I grope wildly but I can’t find my wallet. Groaning, I roll off Cassie and dive into the front seat bare-assed, desperate to find that wallet and the condom I’ve been saving for this occasion.

It’s nowhere.

“No, fuck, please,” I curse. “This can’t be happening.”

From the back seat comes a giggle and in a soft lilt, “If you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for, I have two in my purse.”

Two. In her purse. Hol-y shit. She was prepared. My mind reels and this time I let it, grasping blindly until my fingers close around the strap of her purse. I grab it and toss it in the back, probably harder than I should.  Things drop out of it, plunking on the floor mats, and I scramble back to help her pick them up when she pulls a tiny square packet from a little pouch with a triumphant flourish.

She asks me to show her how to roll it on, so I do, my hand only slightly steadier than hers. But when I position myself over her, the brief vision of how I thought this would happen flashes through my mind, and I feel suddenly guilty. There’s no private hotel room filled with flowers, no romantic dinner beforehand where I get to say all the things I want to say to her. It’s just us in my brother’s car and two hours until curfew.

“Cass,” I whisper, so close to what I want, what I need that I want to punch myself in the face for what I’m about to ask her, because if she says no I might actually cry. "Are you sure? We can wait.”

Her knees squeeze my ribs as she kisses me tenderly and whispers, “Yes, I’m positive. I love you, Grady. And I need you. I don’t want to wait.”

* * * *

 

Later, after I’ve returned home and returned the keys to Carl, who took one look at me and just grinned his head off, I lie in my room replaying the night in my mind. They say it’s not supposed to be as good for girls as it is for guys, but Cassie didn’t seem to be in too much pain. At some point I stopped worrying about everything and just enjoyed the feeling of her soft body tangled with mine, the sounds she made when I was inside her, the way she kissed me like she never wanted to stop. Which is how I felt. I didn’t want to stop. I already needed her again. After having that taste of heaven, I’d rather die than be without it ever again.

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