Hard 5: Multiple Love

He rests his hand over my still pounding heart. “We’ll take it slow,” he says. “I know how big this must be for you. I want you to know that this is a big thing for me too. I couldn’t be your first without knowing that you’re truly ready.” Circling my nipple, he leans in to kiss me, and already, things are stirring inside me again. I feel like the heroine in my cowboy romance novel, always wanting to rut like a bitch in heat.

Shouldn’t I have better restraint? Shouldn’t I play it cool so that Cash isn’t certain of how much he’s made me feel?

But I can’t. His fingers set me on fire. His mouth sends me into a world of anticipation. My whole body is magnetized to his.

“What about you?” I say, looking down at the impressive bulge at the front of his jeans.

Cash shakes his head. “Tonight is all about you.”

His fingers trail over my stomach, sliding between my legs. Just the very top of his middle finger touches my entrance, circling there. “You’re still intact,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. “How, when you ride horses as you do?”

I shrug because I have less idea about my body than he seems to. Does he mean I still have a hymen?

“I would never want to hurt you.” Instead of pushing inside me, he strokes upward, parting me, grazing my clit, using his fingers to explore my folds. His eyes never leave mine, and something passes between us that brings a lump to my throat. I wasn’t expecting any of this to be so tender and sweet. I wasn’t expecting him to treasure exploring me in this way, wanting nothing in return.

First times are meant to be special, and this is, despite the circumstances that brought us together.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” he asks. “Just sleep?”

Agreeing is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. “Sure.”

Cash gives me the brightest grin I’ve ever seen. “I’ll get you a shirt.”

As he searches for a clean shirt in his dresser, I watch the play of his muscles in his broad back and shoulders. I don’t cover myself, even though I feel shy. When he returns, I sit up, and he slips the shirt over my head. “Do you want your panties?” he asks me.

Maybe I should say yes to having a thin cotton barrier between my pussy and Cash’s talented fingers and tongue, but I don’t. Shaking my head, I grin at him, and he grins back.

Tugging the comforter, I slide between the sheets, and so does Cash. The pillow smells of him, and when he wraps his arms around me, I feel like I’m in heaven.

“Sleep now,” he says, kissing the top of my messy head.

And despite all the excited butterflies in my stomach, I do.

13

It's eleven-thirty, and I'm mopping the kitchen floor when there's a knock at the door. It's unusual because the door isn't locked, and the boys never knock before coming in, so I rest the mop against the wall, and head to the door, wiping my hands on my apron.

All morning I've been recalling how I woke in the middle of the night with Cash's tongue at my entrance. I was already so close to coming that all it took was four licks, and I was filled with warm pleasure and awe. His sigh of enjoyment when I came was so sexy, and as he climbed up my body to kiss me, I gawked at his gorgeous body dressed only in tight underwear. There was nothing left to the imagination! Just recalling the outline of his cock sends a flush to my cheeks.

I yank open the door, and my stomach drops through the floor as soon as I see that it's Amber, dressed in a floral sundress, standing on the step.

"There you are, Mel," she says. "I was wondering if you might have been at the store." Her eyes drift over my worn clothes and messy hair. Next to her, I must look so disheveled.

"I'm in the middle of chores," I say.

"Well, I'm sure they can wait while we have a catch-up." She steps closer and ducks into the house. Damn the wide door to hell.

Ignoring the wet floor, she strolls across it, taking a seat at the big kitchen table, gazing around like she's a prospective buyer being shown around by a realtor. "This place has a lot of charm. The Bradfords must have done some upgrading since they brought it from the Flints. They weren't renowned for their homemaking skills." She smiles, proud of her knowledge of the history of this place, whereas I just think she's a busybody.

"Maybe." It bugs me that I'm going to have to offer her a drink. "Can I get you a glass of iced tea?"

"I'd prefer coffee if that's okay." She fans herself, even though the temperature is perfectly fine. "So, how are you settling in? I hope they're not taking you for granted."