“It will be July in a week,” she said softly. The sadness in her voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“Yeah, it will. Summer is going by too fast,” I replied. I didn’t want to talk about my leaving. I wasn’t ready for that. I didn’t want to leave her.
She didn’t say anything right away, but I knew she was thinking about the fall. When I had to go. Finally, she sighed and laid her head back on my shoulder. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to get over you.”
Her words snapped me out of my own sad thoughts. Why would she want to get over me? That wasn’t in my plan. If she got over me, would she move on to another guy? Someone else who would touch her and bring her to orgasm? Fuck no. I tightened my hold on her. “Why do you have to get over me?” I asked, trying not to let the panic I was feeling come through in my words.
She turned her head and looked up at me. “You’ll move on, too. I’ll just be a summer memory.”
Bethy would never be just a summer memory. I wasn’t willing to label this thing we had, but I knew I wasn’t sharing. And if someone else touched her, I’d break his hands. The need to make sure she understood she was mine and always would be was irrational. Because I would leave in the fall. I had to. My future wasn’t in Rosemary Beach, and she was too young to go with me.
“I don’t want you to move on,” I told her truthfully as I slipped my hand under her shirt. Bethy’s breathing hitched as I covered one of her breasts with my hand. “I don’t like the idea of someone else touching you.”
She let out a ragged sigh, and I tugged down her bra so that her heaviness fell into my hands. She was motherfucking perfect. “Mmmm,” she moaned, and arched into me.
“I just want to make you feel like this,” I said, rolling a nipple between my finger and thumb. I slipped my other hand down the front of her shorts, and her legs fell open without hesitation. Smiling, I kissed the side of her head as I watched her eyelashes flutter closed.
Like always, Bethy was already so wet her panties were damp. She stayed like this with me. I’d touched other girls before like this. Girls before Bethy. They’d always been dry and tense. The idea of a wet pussy was incredibly hot. Until Bethy, I hadn’t known what an already-wet one actually felt like. Then there was her smell. Just thinking about how she smelled made me hard.
She lifted her hips and whimpered as I slid a finger down to circle her clit. That was her favorite spot. I’d read enough magazines to learn how to do it just right.
“Take off your shorts and panties,” I said. I wanted to watch my hand as I played with her. She lifted her bottom so I could help her tug them down. When they were gone, she lay back against me again with her legs open. I lifted my hand to smell her and licked the taste off my fingers. She watched me with wide eyes, and the pulse in her neck quickened and throbbed. “You taste really good,” I told her.
She took a swift breath and squirmed.
“Lean up. I want you naked,” I instructed her, knowing this was a bad idea. I hadn’t had her naked since the night on the beach, and I’d wanted inside her so bad that night. I knew she’d let me if I asked. But I couldn’t do that to her. I was leaving. I didn’t deserve her virginity. But damn, I wanted it to be mine.
She lifted her shirt and tossed it, and I made quick work of her bra.
Then she leaned back again, completely naked in my arms. It was the most humbling and erotic sight I’d ever seen. I had only slept with four girls and seen about seven naked, so my experience wasn’t that great, especially compared with Rush, Grant, and Woods. But I knew that this time with Bethy would mark me. For life.
Bethy
“Do you trust me?” Tripp asked.
I knew by now that when he asked me that, he was about to do something new. I also knew that it was going to feel amazing. But it still made me nervous. I nodded and braced myself for what came next.
“Lean up one more time,” he said. I did as I was told.
He pulled his shirt off, and I was relieved. I didn’t like being the only one naked. But then, I’d never seen him naked. He always just took off his shirt. His hands went to his shorts, and I stopped breathing.
“I’m just undoing them. When we’re doing things . . . it gets tight and uncomfortable down there. I need to give it some space,” he said, watching me closely.
I nodded, but I still couldn’t breathe. Not because I was scared of what he was going to do but because I wanted to see him so badly. I’d felt him through his jeans and shorts, but I’d never seen anything.
He unzipped his shorts and tugged them down. As I lifted my bare bottom, he kicked his shorts off, then reached for me to settle back between his legs. The only thing between my bottom and his erection was the thin cotton of his navy boxer briefs.
Oh, boy.
The hardness felt different without the buffer of his shorts. It was bigger than I thought. Which scared and excited me all at once.
“Bethy, sweetheart, relax. I just needed some space. My boxers are staying on. I swear.” He thought I was worried that he was going to push me for sex. He wouldn’t have to push very hard. I was at his mercy. If Tripp asked me to do something, I would do it. That was the simple, pathetic truth.
“I know,” I assured him.
“Good, now lie back and let me touch you,” he said in my ear as I eased back against him.
Watching him undress had excited me, and with my excitement came the dampness. It had spread to my inner thighs, and opening back up so he could see that was humiliating. Maybe I could say I needed to use the restroom. But then I’d have to run into his apartment naked. Not a good idea, either.