Their First Time by Lena Lucas

1

Sunny

God, I wanted him, and I wasn’t even embarrassed or ashamed to admit that. I didn’t even feel guilty that Ivan Romanov was a Russian foreign exchange student that lived with my family for a yeah during my senior year of high school.

In fact, me wanting him almost made me feel empowered.

But after his year was up as a foreign exchange student, he’d decided to stay in the United States permanently.

So here we were, four years later, every part of me wanting him just like I had the first moment I’d seen him step through our front door.

And at twenty-one years old, I probably shouldn’t have desired a man this much. I felt like I was obsessed with him, infatuated, almost possessive... all pretty much one and the same, but the one feeling that rose above all of the others was love.

I had fallen in love with Ivan, and he didn’t know it. Or maybe he did. I didn't exactly hide my feelings from him. I openly watched him and shamelessly flirted. I’d find any little way to brush up against him or hang out with him. And he accepted all of that. In fact, I felt like he went out of his way to see me as well.

I couldn’t count how many times he’d been exactly where I was and stated it was a “coincidence.”

Or maybe it was just my desire to have Ivan want me just as fiercely as I desired him.

I exhaled, frustrated beyond belief that I hadn’t ever said anything to him. I could handle rejection, but embarrassment was another issue. And possibly making things awkward between us had this sour feeling in my gut growing to the point I just kept my yap shut and tried not to think about him in that way.

Which, of course, was impossible.

And what happens when I never say anything, and he finds someone? Then I’ll have to watch him fall in love, and it’ll be the worst damn thing in the world.

I brought my drink to my mouth and took another long sip, the burn from the alcohol long gone. I forced myself to—or tried to—stop continuously staring at Ivan. But that was pretty much impossible given the fact this was a graduation party for Ivan thrown by his roommates.

And he was the center of attention.

So I supposed openly staring at him wouldn’t seem strange since, once again, this party was all about him.

And so here I was, letting my gaze slide back over to him. The apartment he shared with two other guys was lavish, but that was all thanks to Peter, roommate number one, whose parents had given him a trust fund and paid for all his shit. Apartment and spending money included.

Ivan was extremely attractive with his big muscular body, the tattoos that covered his arms and part of his chest, and also his deliciously sexy and deep accented voice.

To me... he was the perfect man.

That could be my love for him speaking, but I didn’t care because I’d never known anything truer.

But he wasn’t just pretty in the eyes. He was also so smart, smarter than anyone I’d ever met in my life. So intelligent, in fact, that he’d been valedictorian on top of a slew of other prestigious awards when he’d graduated college. But he also worked twice as hard as anyone else I knew. And his ambition and drive were what made him excel and succeed like he had.

I watched as he mingled with a few of the guests, not staying too long with any one group because I knew he would’ve thought it was rude.

Hot as hell. Insanely smart. And considerate of others.

I sighed. The perfect man.

“Hey.”

I shouldn’t have acknowledged the deep voice beside me, but I was startled and glanced over before I could stop myself.

The guy who’d popped a squat beside me had a cheesy grin on his face, and his blond hair was slicked back in a hairstyle that reminded me of an accountant by day and frat boy by night. It also didn’t help that his polo shirt looked like it had enough starch in it that I could bounce a quarter off the front, and that shit would ricochet back in my face.

“I couldn’t help noticing you sitting here alone.” He was silent after that, and I was pretty sure he was waiting for a response from me, but I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say.

So I lifted my drink and took a long sip of it, just staring at him, waiting to see if he'd get to his point. And his point was about taking me home. There was no doubt about it.

It was a look in his eyes and the way he held himself. All cocky persona. It was also the fact he kept leaning in closer, his smile getting bigger.

And then I saw him lift his gaze and look at something over my shoulder. I saw the large shadow move over him, and his eyes widened slightly, his spine straightening. He cleared his throat and started rubbing his hands up and down his denim-clad thighs.

He was giving off nervous and anxious vibes like crazy, and I felt this prickling on the back of my neck. And then before I could look over my shoulder to see who he was staring at—because it was obviously someone he was intimidated by—a massive body moved beside me.

I knew who it was before even looking at him. I just felt a sensation whisper across my body.

And his scent… God, his scent was incredible.

It was a mixture of his cologne and a primal, masculine aroma. I couldn’t describe it any better than that, as if he’d been outside chopping wood, a mixture of fresh pine and clean sweat. On a normal basis, those scents would do nothing for me, but when they were attached to Ivan, my girly bits tingled, and my biological clock rose up to attention.

“Move the fuck along,” Ivan said in his deep, thickly accented voice.

The frat guy cleared his throat again and mumbled something under his breath before sliding off the chair and going across the room as if he had somewhere important to be. As if a fire had suddenly been lit under his ass.

I was holding my glass probably a little too tightly as I watched Ivan take the seat in front of me now, the scowl on his face evident and telling me he wasn’t pleased with what had just happened.

“Was he bothering you?” There was still this hard set to Ivan’s face, and I felt this flutter in my chest at the thought that maybe he was jealous.

Of course he was protective. Ever since pretty much the first moment he’d come to live with us, he always had been. But that protectiveness had grown over time until some might have thought he was overbearing.

Not me. I found it wildly attractive that he liked to keep the guys away.

“You intervened before it could get weird.” I gave him a smile, but that hard look on his face was still there.

He looked over his shoulder at where the preppy guy had gone off to, his brows pulling down even lower and his lips thinning.

“Hey,” I said softly and reached out to place my hand on his, which rested on the breakfast bar.

Ivan looked back at me, and I saw the way his expression softened as he stared into my eyes.

“He was harmless. He probably would’ve been annoying if given time, but that’s the gist of it. Besides, I can handle myself and beat off any creepers.” I shrugged and flashed a grin, hoping to lighten the mood by acting like I was tough shit. I was anything but, of course.

This low growl left Ivan, and he slid his hand out from under mine. For a second, I was disappointed at the lack of skin-to-skin contact, but that faded when he placed his palm over the back of mine and lightly curled his big fingers around my hand.

I felt a flush start to rise up my neck and cover my face at the very possessive feel of his hold.

He leaned in, the scent of him washing over me. I inhaled deeply, taking it into my lungs.

“You are tough, but you don’t have to be because you have me in your life.”

Shivers raced up and down my arms at the way he said that, at the deepness of his voice, the pitch of his tone.

Maybe it was silly of me to feel this way.

Maybe I was doing an injustice to all the women out there who spoke of strength and independence and were feminists. But I had absolutely no problem in having a man—Ivan, to be exact—be my protector and take care of me.

“Why are you sitting all alone, kotik?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the little endearment he’d always called me, even from the first day we’d met. Kotik. Kitten.

God, why does everything always sound so much better coming from him in that deliciously sexy Russian accent?

He didn’t say anything for long moments, just stared into my face. He still held his hand on top of mine, the heavy weight a welcome presence. The longer he watched me, the more aware I felt of my own presence... of the reaction my body had to him.

When he broke eye contact and looked around the room, I finally took a breath in, realizing I’d been holding it this entire time. I glanced around the apartment as well, not sure what he was looking for in particular but realizing there weren’t as many people now as there had been.

And a look at the clock on the wall told me that it was quite late, and that people had been filing out while I’d been sitting here.

Maybe I should go? Maybe that was why he just stared at me?

And of course that had disappointment moving through me because I didn’t want to leave Ivan.

“The party is winding down,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. I made a low sound of acknowledgment, not able to look away from him, wondering exactly what he was thinking.

He seemed pretty deep in thought right now with the dark slashes of his eyebrows pulled down low. And then he looked at me, and this tingle of awareness moved through me once more.

“I should go,” I said without any heat in my voice. And by the smirk that covered his lips, I could tell Ivan knew I was full of shit in that regard and didn’t want to go anywhere.

It was one of the many reasons I loved him.

We sat there for a moment, and a few people came over to say goodbye. Before I knew it, it was only me and Ivan and his two roommates left.

“Do you guys need help cleaning up?” I offered even though I was tired, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

Peter scoffed and mumbled something about having the cleaner come by tomorrow, and all I could do was roll my eyes.

And then it was just Ivan and me as Peter and the other roommate headed for bed.

“It’s late,” I said softly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in a weird way. Maybe it was because of the intense look in Ivan's eyes as he watched me. “I should go,” I said again and hated that I was tripping over my own tongue.

I expected him to smirk, to call my bluff, but he just leaned in a little bit closer, and when I felt his hand land lightly on my knee, I sat up straighter and felt my heart pound harder.

“You had a couple of drinks, and like you said”—his voice was so low and deep—“it is late. I wouldn’t feel right sending you home tonight. Stay here?”

Of course I wanted him to say that, and on the heels of that thought were about a million other dirty things that passed through my mind, images that were obscene and totally making me blush right now.

“Okay,” I squeaked out and then cleared my throat, hating that I felt so awkward all of a sudden. This was Ivan. I’d known him for years. He knew me better than anybody else and vice versa.

But I was definitely feeling a shift between us right now. Or maybe I’d just drunk too much and was projecting my feelings on to him? Had he just drunk too much, too, and saw me as an easy acquisition?

No. Ivan wasn’t that type of guy. But if he was... I’d be totally okay with that.

I knew what I wanted to happen and what the reality probably would be. But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?