The Virgin Replay by Lauren Blakely
Chance
In the shower a little later, I pour tropical body wash into my palm, then roam my hands across her shoulders, down her arms, along her stomach, smiling stupidly as I go.
She laughs softly. “Why are you grinning like that?”
I shrug, still hopped up on endorphins. “Great sex has that effect,” I say.
She’s quiet, and I hope that wasn’t the wrong thing to say. “It was great,” I add, reassuring her.
“Was it for you, though?” Her voice pitches up, hopeful.
Ah, she has no barometer for how a man reacts. “You were amazing. You are absolutely amazing, and the sex was incredible.” I hope she loved it as much as I did. It was electric. “You don’t believe me?”
Sierra takes the body wash then cleans up, keeping her hair out of the stream as she goes. “It’s just all new to me,” she says. “But I’m only human. I want it to be as good for you as it was for me. Because that was dream-come-true sex for me.”
It’s official. I can die now having completed my mission on earth—to please a woman that well. I rope a hand around her waist, haul her body against mine. “It was earth-shattering. Hell, I’m pretty sure my toes curled.”
She grins, the kind of smile that shines in her eyes, and I’m glad I hit the right note at last. “You made my knees weak, Chance.”
Pretty sure she did the same to me. And fair’s fair—since she’s been so open with me about her sex life, the least I can do is be the same way about mine. “To be honest, I haven’t had sex like that . . .” I drift off, but my memory comes up empty. There’s nothing to compare tonight to. “Honestly, I’ve never had sex like that, Sierra. Ever. It was intense. Insanely passionate.”
Her eyes go soft. Her lips part. “It felt that way to me too, Chance,” she says, vulnerability coloring her tone as well, and the sound causes my heart to thrum harder for her.
“Good. I wanted you to feel incredible. That was all I wanted,” I say.
She loops her hands around my neck, her fingertips playing with my wet hair. “I’ve watched a lot of videos. Read a lot about sex. I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted. But being with you felt better than I even imagined.”
Being with you.
Those words reverberate. “Same for me, gorgeous. That was better than I imagined. And trust me, I’ve thought a lot about sleeping with you.”
Her eyes sparkle with delight.
I have more to say, though, tonight is a time for total honesty, it seems. “You’re only the second woman I’ve been with,” I tell her.
Her mouth falls open. “Wow. I had no idea.”
Talking about Natasha isn’t my favorite thing to do. But these details feel important for Sierra to know, especially given what she’s shared with me. “My ex and I met in college. We were together for a long time. We were each other’s firsts. But the sex faded a lot the last few years we were together, and honestly, even before then, it was never like that.” I wave in the direction of the bed—the scene of the white-hot crime of . . . fantastic sex.
As the water beats down on us, Sierra arches a dubious brow. “Never? Really?”
I hold up a hand. “Scout’s honor.”
She shoves me gently on my wet pecs. “You were never a Boy Scout.”
“Pitcher’s honor, then,” I say, wiggling a brow. “Closing pitcher’s honor, to be precise.”
Tilting her head, a little saucily, she smiles. “Fine. I believe you now.”
“Good. You should.”
I take the soap and wash up, sharing even more with her. “But I’ve wanted that kind of abandon in bed. To be rough, be wild. Your fantasies match mine. But I never had the chance to act on them till you.”
Sierra takes a breath, maybe gearing up to say something hard. “I want to sleep with you again. What do you think? Want a couple encores?”
What I think is I’ve won the World Series again. I think I’ve struck sex gold. “Hmm. Seems just like I convinced you to root for the Cougars, and you’ve convinced me to go for seconds and thirds,” I tease.
She rolls her eyes, swats my shoulder this time. “Chance.”
I pull her close. “I want you again and again, Sierra.”
“Sounds like a great plan for the next twenty-four or so hours,” she says.
I freeze under the hot water.
Twenty-four hours?
That’s it? Give or take, that’s all I have with her?
Of course it is. We’re both leaving the morning after the wedding. Returning to being…part of the same circle.
And yet I already know I want this fling to last beyond two nights in paradise. I’ll have to figure out how the hell to maneuver that.
For now, though, I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of spending the night with her close to me.
I stop the water, and we dry off then get into bed. Under the covers, with the terrace door open and the rhythmic sounds of the ocean lapping against the shore, I run a hand along her arm. I’m unable to stop touching her. “That couch did look ridiculously uncomfortable.”
She gives me a flirty, dirty look. “Confession: you were never going to sleep on that couch,” she whispers. “From the moment we walked into this suite today, I had plans for you, Chance. I’ve wanted it to be you for a lot longer than just today.”
I eat up her compliments. “How long?”
She stares at the ceiling, taps her chin. “Remember the night you walked me home?”
“Hell, yeah. I was so damn tempted to invite myself up,” I say.
“I knew for sure then that I wanted you to be my first,” she says, reminiscing, tripping back to a happy memory.
I’m all warm and buzzy. “But I think we needed to get here, in Hawaii, for it to happen.”
“True, but I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Chance,” she says, settling into the pillows, like it’s a relief to admit this attraction at last.
Hell, it is to me too. For months, the desire has brewed inside me. “I would come by The Spotted Zebra with the guys, but I always wanted to see you.”
“We could chat about the day or baseball or books or comedies.”
She grins, propping her head into her hand as she shifts to her side. “Everything was so easy with us. Still is.”
Easy. This is just nice and easy here in bed, and then we’ll return to nice and easy in San Francisco too.
But still, I’m not sure twenty-four hours will satiate me. For now though, I’ll take what I can get.
