Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I came for the first time…for Darius.
I started to cry out, but he kissed me so all I was feeling, all he’d given me was swallowed by his mouth, coaxed deeper by his tongue.
It was phenomenal.
His hand was gone when it was over, but it was like he sensed it had washed through me, because, with perfect timing, he rolled us so I was cocooned between the back of the couch and Darius.
I’d been here before (we did a lot of making out, we also did a lot of cuddling), and it was my second favorite place to be (my first favorite was where I was ten seconds ago, and my new first favorite place for Darius’s hand to be was where it was thirty seconds ago).
But even if I’d had my first orgasm, given to me by Darius Tucker, my boyfriend, the best boyfriend in history, the sweetest, most thoughtful, loving, teasing, awesome boyfriend of all time…
I was stuck on what he’d said when he’d given it to me.
“You love me?” I asked.
“I love your big, chocolaty eyes. And I love your pointy chin.”
Ugh.
“I don’t have a pointy chin. My face is oval.”
“It’s a beautiful chin,” he muttered before he kissed it. “It’s still pointy.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
“And I love how short you are,” he carried on.
For heaven’s sake.
“I’m not short, I’m average,” I told him, though, in all honesty, maybe I was a tad bit on the low side of that. “It’s just that you’re tall.”
“So…short to me. Still short,” he teased.
I pushed at his shoulders (however, it must be noted, I did this half-heartedly). “Darius, be serious.”
When he looked me in the eyes again, my heart stuttered to a halt.
Because he was being serious.
Deadly serious.
“I love your perfect nose and your thick lower lip and the shape of your eyebrows,” he continued.
I wouldn’t say my lower lip was “thick,” more like “full” (though, even I liked the arch of my brows, it rocked). But I wasn’t going to interrupt him.
No way.
Thus, he kept going.
“And your gorgeous skin and your huge smile and the fact you use words like ‘alcove’ and ‘omnipotent’ that no one else knows what the fuck they mean.”
I started giggling even though I kind of wanted to start crying.
Darius wasn’t done talking.
“And I love how you get on with my sisters, even though they’re pains in the asses, and when you’re over, you always help Mom with dinner, and you sit and listen to Dad going on about the Rockies or the Nuggets or whatever, like you give a shit, when you don’t.”
One must say, I wasn’t a sports person.
But I loved Darius’s dad, and he was, so there you go.
“Darius,” I whispered.
“But I’m not gonna tell you until we’re under the clouds, or the stars, or whenever we stop talking, even though something else I love about you is that we always have something to talk about.”
Okay, it was safe to say, I was feeling this.
Feeling everything.
I knew what my dad would say about what I was feeling. He would say it’s too soon, being sixteen and finding the guy of your dreams that you know you want to spend the rest of your life with.
My mom would say that too.
(Lena wouldn’t, she adored Darius and already told me she wanted him as her brother.)
But I knew it.
I knew it now and ten minutes ago and when he tickled me so much last week, disaster nearly struck because I was this close to peeing my pants.
And when he helped my dad, who had no sons, but had started treating Darius like one, put in our new kitchen cupboards.
And when Darius took me out to a fancy dinner on our one-month anniversary.
And again on our two-month one (you get the picture).
And on our first date in the wildflowers.
And all the times in between.
I knew it.
I might not know everything about myself, who I was or who I was going to be.
I just knew, whoever that was, I’d be her with Darius.
“So, yeah, it’s gonna be special,” he concluded. “When I say that and when we do that.”
“Okay.” My reply was soft.
His answering smile was tender.
I touched my fingers to it in wonder, even if I’d seen it before. It was just that wonderful.
I lifted my eyes to his. “But can I say it now?”
His arms around me got tighter and he shook his head.
But he said, “You don’t have to say it, baby. You show it all the time.”
Okay, the tears were coming.
So when I said, “I try,” it sounded croaky.
“You succeed,” he assured.
I was glad. So, so glad he knew I loved him. He deserved that. And more.
Everything I could give him, everything, it was his.
To communicate that, I kissed him.
He kissed me back then ended it before it got too much for the both of us (See? Annoying!).