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This was more like what I’d expected. There was an overflowing laundry basket on the floor, giving me a hint that he’d hidden away his mess in an effort to impress me. Or at least not scare me off.
It made me smile.
He reappeared with a smallish box in his hands. It was as long as a shoebox but only half as wide, and it was wrapped in glossy black paper. My pulse quickened. “You got me a present?”
His expression was enigmatic. “It’s educational.”
He sat so close beside me on the couch that I fell into him, making my drink slosh but thankfully not spill. He took it from me and set it down on the table beside the armrest, and then he placed the box on my lap, wordlessly asking me to open it.
I hadn’t a clue what it could be, so I eagerly tore at the paper.
There was a picture on the front of the box, but I didn’t understand what I was looking at—
Oh, my god!
Blood rushed to my cheeks, heating my face to a million degrees. Even though we were alone, I still whispered it, like I was worried someone might hear. “You bought me a vibrator?”
His gaze slid over my face, drinking in my shocked reaction, and he couldn’t have looked more pleased if he’d tried. “I assume you don’t have one already.”
I shook my head and struggled to catch my breath. Holy shit. My gaze dropped to the box and the picture of the ‘massaging wand’ inside. It was black and shaped sort of like a microphone, with a rounded head and a tapered bottom that was tipped in chrome.
No, of course I didn’t own a vibrator.
It was like . . . contraband. Just sitting there in its box, resting on my lap, felt excitingly wrong. I didn’t know what my parents would do if they found out I had one—but knew it wouldn’t go over well.
I’d thought once about buying one while I was away at school, but decided it was too risky. My parents might have questions about the charge on my credit card, plus I shared a dorm room with a roommate who was always around. When would I ever get a chance to use it?
I crinkled up the wrapping paper in one hand, while using the other to examine the box for a lid. There was a broken piece of tape across it.
“I opened it already,” he said, “and charged it up.”
I gulped down a breath so loudly, he had to have heard it. There was only one reason he’d have done that. “You want me to use it now?”
“No.” He pulled the box from my grasp, opened the top, and withdrew the sleek, sexy wand. “I want to use it on you . . . during.”
During.
How had he taken such a simple word and filled it with so much fire? The vibrator on its own was plenty hot, but the idea of him using it on me while we had sex? That was incendiary.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his strong hand clenched around the handle of the wand. It was so fucking sexy.
But perhaps my silence made him nervous.
“Because I want you to enjoy it,” he said. “I know a lot of girls don’t their first time.” He sounded like he thought I needed convincing. “I thought this might help, but if you’re not into it—no problem. I just want you to . . .”
He paused for so long, it drew my gaze back to him, and I wasn’t prepared for the way he looked. This wasn’t the cocky, selfish boy I’d had a crush on all through high school. This was a man who was trying to think outside himself and struggled with his newfound feelings.
“I just want you to be comfortable,” he blurted. As if saying it as fast as possible would rid him of his awkwardness.
It was so surprisingly sweet, it made my heart ache. He had so much more experience than I did, but was it possible he was just as anxious about the sex as I was?
I put a hand on his cheek to reassure him. “I am comfortable.”
“You’ll tell me if that changes.” He’d said it as a statement, but I heard the question buried inside it.
“Yes.”
A hint of relief glanced through his eyes, and then was gone, replaced by a growing intensity that was so magnetic, I couldn’t look away. What was he thinking about? Whatever it was, it was serious.
