All Your Firsts Without Me, page 14
I’ve packed for the weekend and I’ve given Lucky enough food and water for the night. I’ll have to come back tomorrow and let her out.
I pat her head and tell her I’ll see her in the morning and then I stand there, frozen at the door. I can’t do this.
Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I let my bag drop to the floor.
“Hello,” Westin answers on the first ring.
“Um, hey, I… I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight,” I struggle to keep my voice steady.
“Oh, okay,” he says, trying to hide his disappointment.
Now I feel terrible. So, I make up a lame excuse. “Lucky is looking at me all sad and I don’t think I can leave her. I’m sorry.”
“You can bring Lucky with you. In fact, I was planning on it. I bought everything she’ll need. No worries. I can’t wait to see you.”
He’s excited.
What have I done? My fingers tingle as the room starts to spin. I grab the door frame, trying to pull myself together.
“April?”
“Yeah?” I ask as I lower myself to the floor. Lucky starts licking my face in worry.
“I’ll be right over,” he says before the phone disconnects.
Five minutes later, Westin is pushing through the door. He helps me to my feet and over to the couch. After he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen, he sits down beside me. “Here, take a drink.”
He has to help me because my hands are shaking so much. His eyes go to the bag I abandoned by the door. He sets the glass down and then swipes his palm over his face. I stare at my hands folded in my lap. “You’re having second thoughts?” he asks.
“No, not about us. It’s just…”
“If it’s too soon, we’ll wait. I haven’t been with a woman since I was twenty-two, April. I’m thirty-two now. I’ve survived ten years without a woman’s touch. I’m sure I can make it a bit longer,” he tells me, raising my face to his with a knuckle under my chin.
I give him a shy smile. “There’s my girl,” he says, running his hand along my jaw, settling it along the side of my neck.
“When I’m with you I want to. I really want to, but when we are apart my mind starts getting the best of me, and I get scared.”
“We said we weren’t going to run from each other. You need to be honest with me, April. Because I don’t ever want you to feel pushed into anything you’re not ready for.”
His sea glass green eyes comfort me with their honesty. I’m not in this alone, and I should have just told him what I was feeling from the beginning.
“Do you want to come to my house this weekend? There are no obligations or expectations on my part.”
“Yes, I do want to come. I’m feeling much better now that you’re here. I let my anxiety get the best of me.”
He stands up, pulling me to my feet. “I’ll take your bag and you can follow me in your car with Lucky. I want you to have your car, so you don’t feel trapped. Okay?”
I rise up on my tiptoes after he picks up my bag and place a kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” I say quietly.
He bops me on the end of my nose. “We’re in this together.” He gives me a panty-melting smile as we step out into the evening air.
A few minutes later, we are stepping into Westin’s home.
Lucky is excited to explore a new place. Westin went a bit overboard, spoiling her with new toys and a big fluffy dog bed he placed in front of the windows overlooking the beach.
His house smells good. I don’t know what he has in the oven, but it smells divine. He takes me by the hand and leads me into his bedroom. “I thought we could, um, sleep together, but if this doesn’t work for you, I do have a guest room.”
My eyes slide over the room. It’s done in dark blues and warm browns. It’s cozy. I like it. “This is fine.” I walk over and sit on the bed. It’s soft. So soft.
He sets my bag on a chair. “There is an attached bathroom.” He points to a closed door on the other side of the room.
I lie down, gazing over my head. There are French doors running along the wall. I sit up and turn to look out. “What a beautiful view,” I tell him, standing and going over to get a better look.
Pushing the curtains back a little, I get a glimpse at what he wakes up to each morning.
“Are you feeling better about this?” he asks, leaning against the doorframe. He’s giving me space to explore his room without hovering over me.
“Yeah, I am.” My eyes follow a seagull hopping around the beach. “Did he leave letters for you?”
“No,” he says simply.
“But you knew about the ones he wrote to me?”
He sighs. “I did. He wrote them while we sat at the bar together, but he never shared them with me,” he adds quickly.
I walk over to my bag, unzipping it. “His messages are… well, they’re priceless. They’ve helped me so much. But today when I went to read the one for this moment,” I point to the bed, unable to say the words, “well, I found it wasn’t for me. It’s addressed to you.”
He takes it from me, his brows pulled together in confusion. “There was a letter for this?” he asks.
Laughing, I go back to the bed and sit down. “Yep.”
He sits down next to me, reading the envelope. Your first time with someone else. Westin opens it and pulls out the second envelope, the one with his name on it.
“He was pretty sure about us, wasn’t he?” Westin says, laughing.
“Yeah, he always thought he was right. He usually was,” I add with a smirk.
“We could read it together,” he suggests.
“No. It’s for you. I’ll go set the table while you read.”
He leans over and kisses my forehead.
I leave him with my husband’s words. If I said I wasn’t curious about what was written, I would be lying. But I trust David. And now that I think about it, I trust Westin too.
I take a peek at the casserole cooking in the oven, it looks amazing.
Lucky dances around my feet. I give her one of the treats Westin bought for her. She takes it and goes right back to her spot by the windows, content.
The table is set, food ready, candles lit, and still no sign of Westin. I glance down the hall, wondering if I should go find him? I’m starting to get nervous about what that letter said.
I walk over to the mantel and run my fingers over his awards. Pride blooms in my chest. My man is so talented.
My man.
My boyfriend.
My soon to be lover.
Westin clears his throat behind me. “The table looks great,” he says not meeting my eyes.
“I put the casserole on warm. I wasn’t sure when you would be out.”
He heads to the kitchen, grabbing the potholders off the counter. He busies himself taking it out.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, sitting down at the table.
He sets the dish in the center, cutting a slice for me before putting one on his own plate. “Yeah, fine. Everything’s good.”
He’s nervous. The kind of nervous that makes you feel like jumping out of your skin.
“This is really good. Where did you learn to cook?” I ask, trying to soothe his mood.
“My mom. It was one of the few things we did together. I spent most of my time with my dad. He was my football coach in high school. We had a lot in common.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Yes. My mom and dad had a baby before me, but she was stillborn.”
“Oh, that’s so sad. I had five sisters,” I tell him.
“Do you keep in contact with them?” he asks, pouring me a glass of wine.
“No. I wouldn’t even know what to say to them. We are… different.”
Finally, he allows his gaze to settle on me. “You are different. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met.” His green eyes hold so much admiration, I have to look away. It’s too much.
“I’m nothing special,” I say, taking a sip of my wine.
“I have to disagree with you on that.”
My cheeks heat and I glance away from him, focusing on the waves rolling in.
“Do you want to read the letter?” he asks.
My head whips back to him. “What?”
“The letter. Are you not curious?”
“He wrote it to you. If he wanted me to read it then he would have addressed it as such.” I stab my fork into my delicious casserole, ignoring his stare.
Out the corner of my eye I see him pull a piece of paper out of his pocket, meticulously unfolding it. I tap my fork on the edge of my plate. “You don’t have to…”
He starts reading, cutting me off.
Westin,
I’m sure April was disappointed that this letter wasn’t for her. But if she is to this point then the only word she needed to read was your name on the envelope. April doesn’t give her love to just anyone. She trusts you. My only advice is to encourage her to keep the lines of communication open.
Now back to you. I’m so happy for you, Westin. You’ve become such an important person in my life and now in hers. I was so worried that when I died, April would die with me. Thank you for giving her a second chance at love. She deserves it. You deserve it too. You’re worthy of being loved.
We’ve talked to great extent about your injuries, and the self-confidence you lost. She trusts you, now it’s your turn to trust her. She married a man in a wheelchair, Westin. April looks past the physical. Her love is pure.
I’m going to tell you something about myself that I know she won’t. One thing you might have noticed is she is a fierce protector of those she loves. She would never share my insecurities. Never. So, here it goes... I could not make love to my wife. My spinal injuries prevented it. We found our own way to love each other, and it was wonderful, but that is not the point. The point is, she won’t care about your leg, your scars, or anything else. She only cares about you, Westin.
Don’t be afraid to let her love you… I promise you won’t regret it.
Your friend forever and a day,
David
P.S. I hope you understand what this means. I’ve written letters for all the firsts without me, but this is truly a first for her…. make it special.
My heart is beating out of my chest. I want to run. Boy, do I want to run, but I made a promise and I keep my promises.
When he reaches for me, I jump. I scoot my chair away from the table. “He makes me sound like a saint. I’m not a saint, Westin.”
“I think you were to him,” he says, wrapping his good ankle around the bottom of my chair and tugging me close to him. “Talk to me.”
My eyes scan the room, frantically searching for something, anything. I need to change the topic.
“You’re embarrassed.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I huff out a breath, turning to stare at the now dark windows. The only thing I see is the room reflected back to me. It all looks so normal. A couple eating at the dining room table with their little dog sleeping nearby. But none of this is normal. My dead husband basically just told my boyfriend that I’m a virgin.
Maybe I am a little embarrassed.
“He’s right you know. I’ve been terrified about getting undressed in front of you.”
My cheeks pinken, because all I’ve been thinking about lately is seeing him with no clothes on.
“Do you want to see?” he asks, smiling when he notices how red my face is.
I give him a tiny nod. He stands from the table, grabs the bottle of wine and my hand. He pulls me down to his bedroom. The door clicks closed behind us, kicking my heart into overdrive.
He pushes me down gently onto the bed, handing me the bottle of wine. “Drink,” he orders.
As I’m taking a big gulp straight from the bottle, he grabs his shirt from behind, tugging it over his head. My tummy clenches hard. When he drops it to the floor, he gives me a flirty smile. “Your turn.”
I raise my eyebrow in challenge but hand him the bottle. He sits beside me, raising it to his lips. His green eyes are dancing with anticipation. Slowly, I grab the hem of my shirt and raise it, pulling it off over my head.
He chokes on the wine, running his hand over his mouth. “God, April, you are so fucking beautiful.” He sets the bottle on the bedside table, turning to face me.
His dirty words make my stomach tighten as desire pools between my thighs. He reaches out and runs a knuckle over the swell of my breasts. I close my eyes, my breath leaving me. His fingers are calloused from playing the guitar, they gently scratch across my skin. It feels good. When he pulls his hands away, I open my eyes to see him pull his pant leg up.
He kicks his shoe off before removing his prosthetic leg, which starts just below his knee. As he sets it off to the side, I notice his hands are trembling. I get it now. Why the letter wasn’t for me.
David is the saint.
Westin and I both are so lucky to have met him.
I kick my own shoes and socks off and then stand between his legs. Now it’s time for my fingers to shake as I pop the button on my jeans. He stares into my eyes as I lower my pants to the floor and kick them to the side. “I need to show you something.”
He nods before I turn around, letting him see the scars my father left behind. Westin doesn’t say anything, his legs press against the outside of mine as I stand there in nothing but my bra and panties. I want him to see he is not the only one with a tragic past. Our scars are a part of us, sure. But they don’t define us.
When his lips press against the small of my back, I shiver. He chuckles against my skin as he explores my body. His confidence is increasing, I sense it in the way his fingers dig into my thighs as he holds me still.
I reach behind me and flick the clasp on my bra, letting it fall to the floor in front of me. He groans, spinning me to face him. His hands immediately cup my breasts, and oh god, does it feel good. This is a side of Westin I haven’t seen. His hunger grows right before my eyes, but I’m not frightened. I’m excited.
He pulls me down onto his lap, my legs on each side of his hips. I drag myself over his growing erection. It should frighten me but… god, this is so embarrassing to admit… but David made sure I knew what it felt like. I mean yes, I’m technically a virgin, but I’ve… well, you get the idea.
“Jesus, April, you’re so soft.” He runs his nose along my neck, inhaling deeply. I toss my head back letting him lick, bite, suck, whatever he wants, he can have.
He flips us over, laying me not so gently on the bed. He’s so strong. I run my hands over his chest, his abs, until I reach the button on his pants. He draws his head back to watch as my fingers work to release him from his jeans. They are in the way. They have to go. Now.
My fingers are frantic. He chuckles low and wraps his hand around mine. “Shh, slow down. We have plenty of time.” I stare up at him as he towers over me. I’ve never noticed just how big he is. He’s still built like a football player.
He finishes what I started and leans back to push his jeans off. I can tell he’s nervous, but he hides it well. When he hooks his thumbs in the waist band of his boxers, I scramble to push my panties down.
Westin sits back on the bed as I raise myself to sit in front of him. Our eyes roam over each other’s naked bodies. It’s just us, no barriers of clothing to hide our flaws. When our eyes finally find their way back to each other, we both grin at the same time.
“You’re hot,” I tell him.
He laughs, “Back at you.”
My eyes drop down his chest, then follow the line of hair that runs from his bellybutton to his… oh my god. Westin reaches over and grabs my hand, dragging it to his lap. When my fingers wrap around him, he groans. It’s the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever heard. He guides my hand up and down. He’s so smooth, so hard.
He leans forward and captures my lips with his. He kisses me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to him. It makes me feel good. Powerful. Suddenly, he halts my movement. He pulls away panting. “We need to slow down. It’s not going to take much.”
Oh.
He pushes me back gently on the bed, his mouth, and hands roam over every inch of my body.
I’m not sure why he was so insecure. He’s perfect. Sure, he has a few scars over his legs, and he’s missing his left one from the knee down, but it makes him, him. I’m quickly falling in love with his body… with his mind, his soul.
When he slips a finger inside of me, I arch off the bed.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispers in my ear.
I grab his face in my hands, pulling him close until our noses touch. “I need you.”
He grabs a condom from his bedside table, ripping it open with his teeth. My heart beats faster and faster as he kneels between my legs. This is it. My first time. I could have lived forever without knowing what it feels like to have a man inside of me but now I think I’ll die without it.
He slides over me, settling between my legs. “I want you to know that I love you, April.”
I close my eyes taking in his words. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. When he bumps against me, my eyes fly open.
“Is… I mean… is this okay?” he asks, his eyes scouring my face.
Lifting my hips, I glide myself over his length, making him hiss in pleasure.
“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” I whisper over his lips, grinding against him.
Our breathing picks up, our movements become jerky with impatience. He raises up and drops his hand, giving himself a few long strokes before lining us up. His eyes meet mine right before he slowly slides himself in.
Oh, oh, holy mother. This is… shit, he’s so warm. So, incredibly warm. This is better than I could have imagined.
Once he is deep inside me, he holds himself perfectly still, letting me adjust. “You okay?”
I nod, tears streaming out the corner of my eyes. “You’re so warm,” I breathe out, still amazed by the sensation of it all.
“So are you.” His mouth cocks up on one side, giving me that boyish grin. “You feel so good, April. I’ve dreamt about this, but it was nothing like the real thing.”
