Reclaiming the Sand
Page 82

I looked over at the large bed that we would be sharing. We had slept in the same bed for weeks now and I had carefully kept a lid on my sexual desires. But it was becoming harder and harder to do that. Going slow had never been my strong suit. And I was starting to feel if I went any slower I’d be dead.
Sex had only ever been just sex. It had never meant anything. Sure when I was a kid I thought that by sleeping with Shane and a few other faceless guys that they would care about me. That I would matter.
Even when they had ultimately rejected me after getting what they wanted, my pride had been hurt more than anything else. Because I may have let them into my body but I had never let them into my heart.
But Flynn had dug down deep. I knew that if he ever rejected me, moving on wouldn’t be an option.
I wanted to give him my body. I wanted us to connect physically just as we had connected in every other way.
I needed it.
I craved it.
My mind started to go a million miles a minute, thinking about Flynn touching me. Taking off my clothes. Kissing every part of me.
By the time he came out from his shower, steam billowing into the room, dressed in his flannel sleep pants and usual T-shirt, I practically pushed passed him to get into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
I turned on the shower a little cooler than was comfortable. I needed to calm down before I lost all sense of reason. Attraction and lust were powerful emotions. But love trumped them all. It was impossible to turn your back on that.
It claimed you.
My teeth were chattering by the time I got out of the shower, my skin pruning. But it worked. I wasn’t a raging ball of crazy physical desire anymore. And that was almost depressing.
When I came out of the bathroom, I found Flynn sitting on the bed, looking out at the sea. I had opened the window earlier so we could hear the pounding surf and for once he hadn’t complained.
The waves matching the rhythm of my heart as I looked at the man who had come to be my everything.
I sat down beside him, brushing my side against his. He tensed for a moment but then relaxed.
We were quiet for a long time, which had quickly become our norm.
Flynn fiddled with the drawstring of his pants, his dark head bowed. I wish I knew what he was thinking about. But my mind reading skills sucked.
But I wouldn’t have to wait long to hear what was troubling him.
“I’ve never,” he said softly, his shoulders tense. I blinked in surprise by his strange statement.
“You’ve never what?” I asked him.
“Had sex,” he said shortly, his voice, typically so flat and unemotional held a depth of feeling that made me dizzy.
Clearly we were on the same page and I hadn’t realized it. I had thought I was alone with my overwhelming urges but obviously Flynn had been thinking about it as much as I had.
It wasn’t a shock that he was a virgin. Hell, he hadn’t kissed anyone until a few months ago. But I was scared to be his first. That was a huge responsibility. What if I wasn’t gentle enough? What if he hated it? What if I messed up so badly he never wanted to have sex again?
Oh god, that was a horrible thought.
And that was a lot of pressure for a girl like me to handle. Staring down at his downturned head, I knew he wanted this experience with me. We were sharing so many firsts together. First walk in the sand, first kiss, first love.
This was just one more first to add to the ever growing list.
I wanted to touch him. I wanted to take his hand and make this awkwardness go away. I wanted to make this easier for him. For me too. Because I was a nervous wreck.
I cleared my throat, my mouth dry. “It’s okay,” I began, not wanting to push him, but Flynn cut me off.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. I won’t be good. You’ll hate it,” he muttered and I watched in disappointment as he started to rub his hands together.
He was upset. He was close to hitting or throwing something. The tension rolled off him in waves like the ones crashing on the beach.
“Stop it,” I said a little more tersely than I meant to. I reached out and stopped myself before grabbing a hold of his hands.
His obvious discomfort was exacerbating my own nerves.
I wasn’t the virgin in the room. So why was I the one shaking like a girl on prom night?
Because Flynn made me feel innocent and untouched. Because being with him for the first time would make me forget that there was anyone else before him.
Because with him there was no one else.
He was still rubbing his hands. He would rub his skin raw with the ferocity.
“I can’t do this, Ellie. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Flynn’s voice raised an octave and I wanted to yell at him to stop. I wanted to smack his face and force him to look at me and not give all of his attention to the spot in his lap.
I needed him here with me. Not locked inside his head.
My unreasonable anger was rearing its nasty head and I had to work hard to tamp it down.
“Can I touch you, Flynn?” I asked softly.
Flynn didn’t say anything. He just kept rubbing.
This time I didn’t ask him. I told him what I was going to do.
“I’m going to touch you, Flynn. And you’re going to let me. You’re not going to freak out. You’re not going to get upset. You’re going to feel me and I’m going to feel you and it will be awesome,” I commanded, not leaving any room for argument.
I had tried sweet and gentle. Now it was time to be Ellie McCallum. And Ellie McCallum took over.