You Were Mine
Page 22
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Blaire pressed her lips together tightly, as if trying to hold back a million questions. She finally nodded and pulled me into a hug. “I love you. I’m here. OK?”
Tears pricked my eyes. “Love you, too,” I croaked out.
When she pulled back, she sniffed and blinked away her own tears, then smiled. “Let’s go celebrate with Della.”
“Yeah. I’m starving. I hope this island breakfast is damn good.”
Blaire laughed as she hooked her arm through mine. “Nate will be here tonight. He’ll be thrilled to see his ‘An Betty,’ ” she said as she patted my arm.
His Aunt Bethy was ready to see him, too.
Tripp
Eight years ago
Bethy hadn’t been to my condo yet. We had spent most of our time together an hour out of town so no one could spot us. But tonight Bethy’s dad was out of town, and I wasn’t letting her stay alone. I had to hope like hell Woods and his friends didn’t show up.
The idea of having Bethy in my bed, sleeping beside me, made any risk I took worth it. I had her overnight bag on my arm as I opened my condo and motioned her inside. She walked in slowly and looked around. It wasn’t that big, but it was nicer than where she lived. I knew that.
“You hungry?” I asked, slipping my hand to her lower back just because I needed to touch her.
She shook her head. “Not really. Can you see the Gulf from there?” she asked, pointing to the French doors leading outside to the balcony.
“Yep,” I replied, setting her bag down on a bar stool and leading her to the doors so she could see for herself.
“This is really nice, Tripp,” she said, glancing back at me in awe.
“Yeah, my grandfather is generous,” I agreed. “My parents hate him for this, though,” I added with a smile.
She stepped outside. “This is a fantastic view.”
Her long dark hair was caught up in the breeze, and the moonlight illuminated her features. She was right. The view was amazing. I walked over and stretched out on the lounger and held my hand up to her. “Come sit with me.”
She came to me without pause. Since the night on the beach, she’d lost some of her nervous reserve with me. I hadn’t done more than kiss and touch her the past week, but that was only because I wasn’t sure I could stop things if I let them get that far again.
I wrapped my arms around her and settled her between my legs so she could lie back against me. Just having her in my arms was enough. Most of the time. Other times I needed to touch her and watch her face as I made her feel good. She was so expressive. I craved that. Although I left most nights in serious pain. I had to get my own release. I couldn’t ask her to do that.
“You sure you’re not thirsty or anything?” I asked her as I drew circles with my finger over her arms. I just liked touching her.
“I’m good,” she replied, snuggling closer against me. “I could stay like this forever.”
Me, too. Having her with me, not having to share her with the world, was perfect. I didn’t want morning to come.
“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.
Tears pricked my eyes. “Love you, too,” I croaked out.
When she pulled back, she sniffed and blinked away her own tears, then smiled. “Let’s go celebrate with Della.”
“Yeah. I’m starving. I hope this island breakfast is damn good.”
Blaire laughed as she hooked her arm through mine. “Nate will be here tonight. He’ll be thrilled to see his ‘An Betty,’ ” she said as she patted my arm.
His Aunt Bethy was ready to see him, too.
Tripp
Eight years ago
Bethy hadn’t been to my condo yet. We had spent most of our time together an hour out of town so no one could spot us. But tonight Bethy’s dad was out of town, and I wasn’t letting her stay alone. I had to hope like hell Woods and his friends didn’t show up.
The idea of having Bethy in my bed, sleeping beside me, made any risk I took worth it. I had her overnight bag on my arm as I opened my condo and motioned her inside. She walked in slowly and looked around. It wasn’t that big, but it was nicer than where she lived. I knew that.
“You hungry?” I asked, slipping my hand to her lower back just because I needed to touch her.
She shook her head. “Not really. Can you see the Gulf from there?” she asked, pointing to the French doors leading outside to the balcony.
“Yep,” I replied, setting her bag down on a bar stool and leading her to the doors so she could see for herself.
“This is really nice, Tripp,” she said, glancing back at me in awe.
“Yeah, my grandfather is generous,” I agreed. “My parents hate him for this, though,” I added with a smile.
She stepped outside. “This is a fantastic view.”
Her long dark hair was caught up in the breeze, and the moonlight illuminated her features. She was right. The view was amazing. I walked over and stretched out on the lounger and held my hand up to her. “Come sit with me.”
She came to me without pause. Since the night on the beach, she’d lost some of her nervous reserve with me. I hadn’t done more than kiss and touch her the past week, but that was only because I wasn’t sure I could stop things if I let them get that far again.
I wrapped my arms around her and settled her between my legs so she could lie back against me. Just having her in my arms was enough. Most of the time. Other times I needed to touch her and watch her face as I made her feel good. She was so expressive. I craved that. Although I left most nights in serious pain. I had to get my own release. I couldn’t ask her to do that.
“You sure you’re not thirsty or anything?” I asked her as I drew circles with my finger over her arms. I just liked touching her.
“I’m good,” she replied, snuggling closer against me. “I could stay like this forever.”
Me, too. Having her with me, not having to share her with the world, was perfect. I didn’t want morning to come.
“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.
