17.
Graham
The next day at work was slow, so when Chloe texted and asked if I wanted a visit, I told her I would love that. Last night at the rope swing felt something like a dream, though it wasn’t; it had actually happened. Eventually, Chloe and I left and we drove around for a little while, and then I brought her back to the shop. We made out for a few minutes before she got into that little car of hers and drove off.
When had I last enjoyed myself that much? I couldn’t remember. It was nothing extravagant, just some good, simple fun, like in childhood.
She had a big grin on her face when she showed up. “You should be proud of me,” she said. “I successfully managed to sneak back into my house last night without getting caught. Actually, it was past midnight so it was technically this morning.” She smiled, looking pleased with herself.
“Glad you didn’t get into any trouble,” I said. “That’s the last thing that I wanted to have happen. Thanks for coming with me.”
“Any time! I want to go back there. It was awesome.”
“Come here,” I said, walking over to her. “Don’t worry; there’s no one here.”
We started kissing, the length of our bodies pressed against each other. I could feel my dick get hard, straining against my jeans. There was no reason to put this off any longer. I went over and locked the door.
“Follow me,” I said, taking her hand. We went out back, where my office was. There was a desk I rarely sat at, with bank statements and old mail and bags of credit card slips that I was supposed to give to my accountant at the end of the fiscal year. There was also a couch—a vintage, leopard-print chaise lounge that I had picked up at a thrift store because ... well, just because. It was a vintage, leopard-print chaise lounge.
I had barely even pushed the office door shut when she started kissing me. I was a little surprised but very pleased with her forwardness. I kissed her back, pulling her close to me, feeling the length of her body against mine. What kind of crazy shit had I been thinking, saying I wasn’t going to have sex all summer?
“You’re such a good kisser,” she said. “I was lying in bed just thinking about that all last night. I couldn’t get to sleep.”
“Wish I had been there.”
I ran my hands down her sides. I kept my right hand at her hip but slid my left hand underneath her shirt, feeling the taut smoothness of her lower belly. I slowly traced that hand higher, brushing her ribcage lightly, cupping her breast. She let out a groan and pressed her pelvis against me. She was so hot, but I didn’t think she even knew it.
“You have no idea how hot you are, do you?” I asked.
She gave me that sheepish smile again. “No,” she said.
“Well, you are.”
“I think you’re so hot, too. I did that first night we walked in here. And I really do want my first time to be with you,” she said, her breath warm on my ear.
“Wait, what?” I said. I stopped kissing her, certain I hadn’t heard her right. It was as if an old vinyl record had come to a halt with a scratch. I had some vague recollection of Tara making a joke about it the first night they’d come into the shop, but I’d just assumed that’s all it had been ... a joke. Surely she’d been with another guy before.
“It’s fine,” she said, pulling me toward her again. “Just forget that I said anything.”
It would be easy enough to. She pressed her mouth back against mine. Oh, yes, it would be more than easy to just keeping things going the way they were going, and if she’d been anyone else, I probably would have but ... no. Maybe I was a romantic at heart, because I didn’t want her first time to be in the back of a tattoo shop where I’d already fucked plenty of women. This didn’t mean I was going to call up and book us the honeymoon suite at the Cuddle and Bubble, but I actually liked this girl enough to know that she deserved to have her first time be something more than the shop office I barely went into.
She didn’t want to hear anything about it, though. “I don’t care,” she kept saying. “None of that matters. Was your first time in some picture-perfect setting?”
“No.”
“I bet most people’s aren’t. And I am completely okay with that.”
I disentangled myself from her. “Not here,” I said. “At least not your first time. Come on—” I held my hand out to her. “And trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.”