“Oh, oh, oh, oh!”
I had been wrong about what was about to happen. The world didn’t explode. I did.
I shattered into a million different pieces as light filled my body. I was trembling, shaking, and making ridiculously breathy little sounds as Nick took me over the edge and kept me there, toying with me until the orgasm faded to almost nothing.
It wasn’t even an orgasm. Not like the few I’d managed to give myself over the years. It was a megagasm. Massive. Huge. Overwhelming. Filthy, and yet so, so sweet.
I floated back down to earth as he appeared above me again. He brushed the hair away from my face, a soft smile on his gorgeous lips.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Good,” I said, unable to look at him. He laughed and gathered me against him, rolling us both to the side. His hand cupped my ass and then he sighed, carefully pulling my skirt down.
“Better cover this up or I’ll get ideas.”
“Ideas?” I squeaked.
“I already have ideas, Melissa. But I want to go slow.”
“That was slow?” I said against his shirt, where my face was tucked. It was better that way. I could not look at him after what had just happened. I would burst into flames of pure mortification.
“It was amazing. You are amazing,” he said, squeezing me. “Better hide these peaches from me, too. I might start snacking on them again,” he teased, pulling the top of my dress back up.
I laughed.
“Well, I did make pie,” I said shyly. “If you’re hungry.”
“You know that’s not what I’m hungry for,” he said gruffly, sending shivers down my spine. “But I’ll wait for that. And I will have some pie.”
I nodded and sat up, straightening my dress out. I reached for the basket, pulling out the pie tin wrapped in a dishcloth. I cut us each a slice and handed him a clean fork. He looked at the pie and then at me.
“Is this . . . cherry pie?” he ground out. He looked like he was in pain. I nodded, tilting my head to the side.
“Is that all right? Don’t you like cherry?”
“Yes, I like cherry very much,” he said, but there was an intensity to his words I didn’t understand. I took a bite and watched him taste his. “It’s delicious,” he growled, staring at me.
“I know I shouldn’t eat sweets, but I can’t help it,” I admitted.
“Why shouldn’t you eat sweets?” he asked as if he really didn’t know.
I blushed, not looking at him.
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Because I’m already so round.”
“Round?”
“You know. Chubby.”
The pie was out of my hand and I was on my back in two seconds flat. Nick had braced his hands on either side of me.
“You’re perfect.”
“Perfectly round,” I joked.
“Who told you that?”
I shrugged, having trouble looking at the perfect, musclebound man above me.
“Most of the girls at school were . . . thinner. That’s all. It was obvious that the boys liked them more.”
“Any man worth his salt knows that curvy girls are better,” he said. And I could see that he meant it. “Those boys were idiots.”
“Really?” I asked, suddenly forgetting to be shy about everything that had just happened between us.
“Fuck yes,” he said instantly, his eyes boring into me. “Never let me hear you say that again.”
“All right. I won’t.”
“And eat all the pie you want. In fact, I insist that you eat pie. And ice cream, too.”
I giggled as he helped me sit up again and handed me my plate of pie and a fork.
“Next time, I’ll bring whipped cream.”
I was almost skipping as I walked back to the house. Nick had kissed me again after asking to see me the next night, too. A proper date. He told me to wear a skirt again, and I blushed bright red.
I was pretty sure I’d be blushing for years at this point. Even if this fling only lasted a few weeks, or a few months. Everything we’d done . . . it felt naughty. But also so very nice.
I sighed as I headed up the stairs to check on Mom and change my clothes. I would do a few more chores and make dinner before calling it an early night. I wanted to snuggle up with a book and daydream about Nick. Everything about him was surprising. The fact that he liked me at all was surprising.
But somehow, he did. He really did. I knew he wasn’t pretending. The tender way he cared for me showed that. He’d been so gentle . . . I knew he’d been holding himself back. That a big, strong man could be so careful and sweet was a revelation.
“Mom?” I asked, giving her door a soft rap. We didn’t ever shut it completely but I tried to give her a semblance of privacy. She was a grown woman, after all.