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I’d lost my virginity when I was fifteen, younger than Easton was now. It’d been ugly, sloppy, and I’d come away thinking that it wasn’t nearly all it was cracked up to be.
But as I stared into Beckham’s pleading eyes, I damn well knew that what we shared would be different.
I would realize what I was missing with that other girl.
“I’m not dumb, Troup,” she whispered. “I know that you weren’t a good boy when we met. But I’ve fixed you.”
I snorted out a laugh.
She had fixed me, hadn’t she?
But not the way that one would think.
She didn’t stop me from doing the things that I wanted to do.
She didn’t harp on me when I made a terrible decision.
She just stood by my side, and gave me the support that I needed, whether she did it with approval or disapproval.
But she was there.
Even Easton didn’t give that to me.
To be honest, I didn’t fuckin’ deserve her.
Not one fuckin’ bit.
But that didn’t matter to me.
If she was going to give it to me, I was going to take it. Because at least, if I took this, someone else couldn’t take it. This one little tiny piece of her would always be mine.
“Where?” I croaked.
I only had a fuckin’ bike.
That wouldn’t work.
She grinned at me so fuckin’ huge that my cock twitched.
Hell.
“I have a place,” she read my mind.
And she did, indeed, have a place.
Our place.
Over the last year that we’d had together, there was a trail that led through the woods that would come out right in front of our houses.
That trail led to a creek that never ran dry, and a beautiful field of grass that was just big enough that it could be called a field, but small enough that it wasn’t really useable thanks to the trees surrounding it.
She grabbed for my hand, and together we walked to the trail that led to our spot.
When we got there, I saw the blanket, the two pillows, and the beer.
I grinned at my girl.
“I like where your mind is at,” I teased.
Her eyes were twinkling when she slowly lifted her shirt to expose her belly.
Her eyes trailed down my body. “Hurry up. I’ve waited for what felt like forever for this.”
I started on my shirt. “Are we camping out like old times?”
“Camping out like old times,” she confirmed. Then she was on me.
“You’re stalling.”
I snorted as I turned to face her.
Her head was tilted upward so that she could see into my eyes as she looked down at me.
“I’m nervous,” I admitted. “I don’t want to fuck this up with you. I want to do it again with you when you come to visit.”
She smiled at me.
Then she lifted the shirt she was wearing off and tossed it to the ground at our feet.
The next thing to go was her bra.
That was when I closed my eyes.
If I saw her, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get to the point where I was naked with her.
I stripped off my shirt, my boots, and then began working on my belt.
When I had everything off but my underwear, I opened my eyes again to see her standing in front of me, deliciously naked.
I licked my suddenly dry lips and prayed that what I was about to do wouldn’t totally break me.
Because, whether I wanted to or not, tomorrow I was leaving.
Tomorrow, I’d be leaving her behind.
Tomorrow, she’d be making me leave whether I wanted to or not.
“I’m thinking that it’s supposed to be the girl, you know the virgin, that’s supposed to be downright terrified,” Beckham teased as she placed her hand on my chest. “Not the boy doing the deflowering.”
“Deflowering?” I choked. “And any man would be nervous. I’m literally about to take your virginity. I want to make it right. What if I ruin sex for you for the rest of your life?”
“Then it won’t matter, because you’re the only one that I’ll ever base anything off of,” she joked. “How will I know if it’s bad?”
She had a point.
But I would know.
I would know that I’d made it bad.
I lifted my hand and trailed it down the length of her side, trying not to focus on the way her nipples pebbled, or the way that my cock was only inches from prodding her in the belly.
“I’m not going to break,” she whispered.
Then she took my hand and placed it against her breast, her hand curving around mine to help mold it to the soft swell.
I’d always thought that they’d be a handful, and now I knew.
“No,” I agreed. “But I very well might.”
She flashed me a smile, then pushed past me and walked to the blanket.
That’s where she had everything set up, as if she’d known my answer before she’d even asked her question.
“I feel like I fell into your trap,” I mused as I followed behind her.
