slow down.
“Essalin?” Farren pulls back slightly, his eyes boring into mine, searching for a go-ahead or a denial.
What will it be?
“I’ll do anything you want,” I blurt out. “I don’t know how great I’ll be, but I want to be with you. I’ll try to please you.”
I sound like what I am—a mostly inexperienced young woman who doesn’t know what she’s getting into. Understanding dawns in Farren’s eyes. His hold on my hair loosens, and though one hand remains wrapped loosely in the long tresses, his other hand skims down to the small of my back.
“Essa…” He exhales loudly. “Look, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“But I am ready,” I insist. “I want to be with you.”
Farren eyes me skeptically. “You really think you’re ready for what this is leading to? You really think you’re ready for me ?”
Holy hell, I don’t know. What I do know is that the starry-eyed girl part of me wants to believe if we become intimate it will lead to something more. But the practical woman side of me knows this might only be about sex. Mind-blowing, amazing sex I’d surely never forget, but sex for sex’s sake, nonetheless.
And the problem with that is that I want more. I don’t want a sex-only thing with Farren. Even so, I’m torn. I don’t know how to proceed.
I try to look away, but Farren’s hand goes to my cheek. I have no choice but to meet his gaze when he urges me to.
Quietly, I say, “I’m just not all that experienced, Farren.”
His brows shoot up, and I quickly amend, “I don’t mean I’m a virgin…if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The look on his face tells me that’s precisely what he’s thinking.
I want to be forthcoming, so I admit, “I’ve only had sex one time, though.”
“Essa…” Farren says on a sigh.
I close my eyes and say, “I guess I’m just confused. I don’t really know how this is supposed to work.” Oh, what am I babbling about ?
Farren says nothing.
When I dare to take a peek up at him, he arches one brow questioningly. “How this is supposed to work?”
“Like,” I begin my explanation, taking a step back, “if we were to sleep together. I don’t know—”
“Shh…” He touches my mouth tenderly, cutting me off. “You don’t have to explain anything, sweetheart.” Gently, he urges me back into his arms, and I nestle into his strong hold.
“No sex tonight, then,” I joke, my cheek pressed against his smooth-textured suit jacket.
Farren chuckles lightly and says, “No sex tonight, Essa.”
Music is still playing in the background, and he starts to move my body with his. “Will you still dance with me, though?” he asks.
I sway with him as I say, “I can do that.”
“Good. I like dancing with you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“I like dancing with you, too,” I whisper back.
All the hard ridges of his body are pressed to my soft parts. He feels so good. As we move together, I relax into him, let him lead. For as much as I want Farren—and, God, I do want him at some point—sleeping together this quickly wouldn’t be a good idea. I like him entirely too much, and I don’t want to end up crushed.
But if things go in the direction I hope for, I sense a man like Farren would be careful with my heart.
I sigh and hope that someday Farren Shaw might actually want my heart.
T he next day, after we check out of the Union Station Hotel, Farren and I head straight to the parking garage. There’s an ease between us as we walk in relative silence. Farren appears lost in thought, but I’m okay with that. I’m busy scanning the area, trying to recall where we parked the white sedan when we returned last night. I swear it was on the second level, third row from the ramp, but I don’t see it anywhere.
“Oh my God, Farren,” I exclaim, stopping and pivoting left and right. “I think someone stole our car.”
Farren doesn’t say a thing, and when I glance over at him, he’s trying
“Essalin?” Farren pulls back slightly, his eyes boring into mine, searching for a go-ahead or a denial.
What will it be?
“I’ll do anything you want,” I blurt out. “I don’t know how great I’ll be, but I want to be with you. I’ll try to please you.”
I sound like what I am—a mostly inexperienced young woman who doesn’t know what she’s getting into. Understanding dawns in Farren’s eyes. His hold on my hair loosens, and though one hand remains wrapped loosely in the long tresses, his other hand skims down to the small of my back.
“Essa…” He exhales loudly. “Look, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“But I am ready,” I insist. “I want to be with you.”
Farren eyes me skeptically. “You really think you’re ready for what this is leading to? You really think you’re ready for me ?”
Holy hell, I don’t know. What I do know is that the starry-eyed girl part of me wants to believe if we become intimate it will lead to something more. But the practical woman side of me knows this might only be about sex. Mind-blowing, amazing sex I’d surely never forget, but sex for sex’s sake, nonetheless.
And the problem with that is that I want more. I don’t want a sex-only thing with Farren. Even so, I’m torn. I don’t know how to proceed.
I try to look away, but Farren’s hand goes to my cheek. I have no choice but to meet his gaze when he urges me to.
Quietly, I say, “I’m just not all that experienced, Farren.”
His brows shoot up, and I quickly amend, “I don’t mean I’m a virgin…if that’s what you’re thinking.”
The look on his face tells me that’s precisely what he’s thinking.
I want to be forthcoming, so I admit, “I’ve only had sex one time, though.”
“Essa…” Farren says on a sigh.
I close my eyes and say, “I guess I’m just confused. I don’t really know how this is supposed to work.” Oh, what am I babbling about ?
Farren says nothing.
When I dare to take a peek up at him, he arches one brow questioningly. “How this is supposed to work?”
“Like,” I begin my explanation, taking a step back, “if we were to sleep together. I don’t know—”
“Shh…” He touches my mouth tenderly, cutting me off. “You don’t have to explain anything, sweetheart.” Gently, he urges me back into his arms, and I nestle into his strong hold.
“No sex tonight, then,” I joke, my cheek pressed against his smooth-textured suit jacket.
Farren chuckles lightly and says, “No sex tonight, Essa.”
Music is still playing in the background, and he starts to move my body with his. “Will you still dance with me, though?” he asks.
I sway with him as I say, “I can do that.”
“Good. I like dancing with you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“I like dancing with you, too,” I whisper back.
All the hard ridges of his body are pressed to my soft parts. He feels so good. As we move together, I relax into him, let him lead. For as much as I want Farren—and, God, I do want him at some point—sleeping together this quickly wouldn’t be a good idea. I like him entirely too much, and I don’t want to end up crushed.
But if things go in the direction I hope for, I sense a man like Farren would be careful with my heart.
I sigh and hope that someday Farren Shaw might actually want my heart.
T he next day, after we check out of the Union Station Hotel, Farren and I head straight to the parking garage. There’s an ease between us as we walk in relative silence. Farren appears lost in thought, but I’m okay with that. I’m busy scanning the area, trying to recall where we parked the white sedan when we returned last night. I swear it was on the second level, third row from the ramp, but I don’t see it anywhere.
“Oh my God, Farren,” I exclaim, stopping and pivoting left and right. “I think someone stole our car.”
Farren doesn’t say a thing, and when I glance over at him, he’s trying
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