Love Untouched (Unexpected) (12 page)

Never one to back down from a challenge, I lowered his boxers and there
he
was.

“Ohhh my.” I gulped. How the hell was he going to fit inside me? The last time I had sex was over six years ago. Johnny Bean’s ‘boy’ was mighty tiny compared to Kieran’s enormous manhood. I was finding out that everything about this man was enormous—his house, his pool, his penis. What a day for revelations!

“How do you hide this
giant
when you’re in your swimming gear?” I asked, totally distracted now. Did he tape it down? Dark blonde hair surrounded it, and how was it that it never looked like there was any hair poking out or something when he was in his suit?

He pulled himself up into a sitting position, his erection standing in the small amount of space between us.

“My turn.” His voice was now uneven, and his hands impatient. He grabbed my butt, stood up with me on top of him, turned us around, and then lowered us back down to the bed.

I guessed he was done with my questions. I wanted answers, though. How did he hide himself inside his suit? Kieran’s body was naturally free of a bushy, hairy chest that other guys had. He could be the ‘after’ picture in a Gillette commercial. Well, that was if guys admitted to shaving their chests on TV. His body was lined with light blonde hairs so fine that you could hardly see them. So did he shave down there?

All thoughts of shaving any part of the body flew out the window the moment I felt his mouth make contact with my breasts, his large hands completely engulfing them, owning them, and making me want for more.

My hands found their way into his hair as I soaked in the pleasure he was giving me, completely giving myself in to experiencing the heightened sensations of the way he was touching me, kissing me, tonguing me.

His mouth left my breasts and traveled down to my stomach. He unzipped my shorts and lowered them down my legs. I felt his hand push my cotton panties to the side, and the first time his tongue flicked inside me, I almost shot out of the bed. He continued kissing me, and finally, he gave me respite when he pulled down my panties and inserted a finger inside of me.

His eyes locked with mine. My own breath left me when I saw the hunger in his eyes. “Brynn, you smell like vanilla, but taste like honey.”

His tongue trailed a circle around his lips, licking every drop of my arousal into his mouth. God, my body throbbed, my nerves spasmed with the urgent need to pull him inside of me.

“Kieran, please.” My voice was close to begging. “I want you inside me.”

He ignored my plea as I felt his tongue working its wicked way in and out of me. I felt two of his fingers thrusting in tandem with his tongue on my sensitive nub. The combined pressure was too much, too overpowering, that I succumbed to my release.

“Ohhh!” A loud scream escaped me, wetness gushing out of me.

Still bleary-eyed from the heart-stopping orgasm that wracked my body, I opened my eyes just in time to see him suiting himself up with a condom. Without due warning, he pushed inside of me. A wave of fullness mixed with slight pain filled my senses. It must have shown in my face because he stopped his motions, “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” I was not hurting, per se. The intrusion of his massive length just shocked me for a moment. “It’s just that it’s been a long time for me.” I had slept with only one man. Eons ago.

He slowly pushed back in. I sensed that he was trying to find his rhythm and at the same time, he didn’t want to hurt me. After adjusting myself to his girth, I grabbed his hands and spread them over my breasts.

“Give it to me,” I urged, conveying my deepest thoughts, “I’m okay Kieran... please, give it to me.”

He delved inside me deeper, pacing himself with long and short strokes. Minutes passed by. He was relentless in his conquest of my body. He swiveled his hips to go deeper but slower. His stomach muscles corded with each movement. I felt the strength and power of his pectoral muscles when he leaned back down to clutch my hair in his fists, murmuring, whispering, “I want you so much. You feel so good. Honey, ohh...”

I clenched my inner muscles, silently thanking Ava for making me attend those spinning, Zumba, and rope-climbing classes. I lightly bit down on his shoulder as I felt another climax overriding me. In a matter of seconds, I was
oh so beautifully
torn apart. I felt him tighten inside me, the contraction of his hardness making me extremely sensitive. He let out a loud groan, “Argghh...” followed by him spilling inside of the condom. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to mine. Stroking my cheek lightly, he murmured, “Absolutely amazing.”

I kissed his jawline and whispered, “You are.”

When I said that Kieran was business-like while I was naked, this businesslike state of mind only happened when he was teaching me how to swim.

After an amazing night of orgasms and multiple exchanges of intimate bodily fluids, I was sore in places that I have never been sore before. The last thing on my mind was learning how to swim.

Kieran though?

He was a slave driver. He insisted that I had to learn how to swim, and who was I to resist the charm of those twin dimples and beseeching brown eyes? Plus, he threatened me with tossing my butt into the pool, with or without my consent, so here we were. He showed me how to float first. I was thoroughly distracted by the show of rippled abdominal muscles. I have seen many a six-pack in my life. My brother had friends, friends who had muscles up the wazoo. Kieran’s were understated yet perfect at any angle. You could tell that his stomach muscles were seated to his internal obliques without a hint of fat. The flexion, extension, the dips, and the bulges that simultaneously occurred when he stretched his arms should be a headliner.

I was licking my lips as he shook his head knowingly. “You’re not paying attention.”

“I am,” I replied, denying him lest another part of his body grow any larger. “See, I now know how to float.” I had my arms at my sides as I laid back in the water, kicking my feet gingerly, and following his earlier instructions to think of the water as a bed where I can just lay in. After a few disastrous attempts, and Kieran’s groping hands, I can now add ‘floating’ to my resume.

He smiled. “Honey, you are something else.” He started calling me honey after last night, because I tasted like honey, he had proclaimed.

“Mr. Stone, you better watch your back.” I kicked my feet faster. “I might become the female version of you in the water.”

He broke into a loud laugh, pulled me close to him, so we now stood side by side along the six-foot end of the pool. He put his arms around me, my legs automatically wrapping around his waist, and since I was naked, he had access to every part of my body while he wore swimming trunks. It was unfair, but he was strict in his conditions that I had to be naked when he taught me. He caressed the length of my back, and nipped on my left earlobe. “I can never get enough of you. Swimming lesson’s over now. You can float. Tomorrow, I’ll show you the basic strokes of swimming.”

“Ok,” I responded, feeling elated and happy. I haven’t felt like this with any man. He was teaching me how to tread water, how to swim. This accomplished athlete who was reserved in every way in front of the world, known to many as the “aloof” swimming sensation, didn’t mince words and commands with me. He was direct, firm, and gentle. He was a contradiction of all sorts. He was tight, cool, and collected in public, but he came loose, turned up the heat, and held nothing back in bed. For a man of few words, he spoke the language of sex in many ways.

I was naked as the day I was born in this swimming pool. My scars evident and my body’s imperfections displayed for him. Every time I looked into his eyes, I saw, without any doubt, that he meant what he had said before. I was perfection, to him. Absolutely.

“I wish I could spend a day with an Olympian.”

~D.T., age 10, Ewing sarcoma

“Brynn have you seen the latest photo shoot of Alex Totikov?” Ava was sprawled over my couch flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine, checking her phone, answering e-mails, and planning her work schedule all at the same time. She called herself, ‘Grand Multi-tasker.’

I was baking cookies, twelve batches of them. Chocolate chip for Milo. Oatmeal for Kieran. Snickerdoodles for Ava. None for me. I had a demanding clientele who didn’t pay a dime. Well, at least Kieran gave me great sex. I should quit my job and become a baker. I loved baking. I loved nursing. I was lucky to be able to have both in my life.

“Ava, you should know that I don’t have enough time to look up naked models online.” I sniggered in reply. “Why would I be interested in him anyway?”

She harrumphed and stumbled into the kitchen. Today’s look was dark blue sweatpants and a plain light-blue shirt. Ava was like this with me. She was not Ms. Hoity Toity, all glammed or made up. Our friendship thrived because she showed me her true self. She was bitchy, annoying, and had a sewer mouth at times. But, she was laid-back, loyal to the end, and if I was caught in a jungle somewhere where GPS could not locate me, I knew she’d have military planes chartered out to get to me.

“You should be interested in him because he has the body that would rival Beckham, a face that could end the war between Angelina and Jennifer, and a voice that could make Denzel weep. Granted, Alex has the sexiest accent ever.” Her light gray eyes sparkled bright with admiration for the man who was the most in-demand male fashion model.

I gave her a smirk. “You and your undying crush. He asked you out but you didn’t go out with him. Something is wrong with you.” Alex asked Ava out during a charity event but Ava flat-out turned him down. Since then, Alex has been calling her non-stop, but she blatantly ignores his calls. My best friend’s logic was mind-altering.

She tsked, her lips turning up. “I like to admire him from afar. What if we go out and then he does something that will turn me off? What if he has an ugly belch? What if his kisses turn out to be disgusting? Then I would be left with no eye candy to salivate over. Fantasy is way better than reality my dear. I choose to keep him at bay so that I can continue to admire him from a distance.” She dipped her neon-green fingernail into my cookie batter. “Yuck, this is not snickerdoodle.” Her face twisted in disgust.

“It’s oatmeal.” I replied, pulling the cookie sheet out of the oven to allow the fourth batch of chocolate chip cookies to cool.

“Since when did you start making oatmeal...” Her words trailed off for a few seconds then she yelled, “Goodness gracious Brynn, you naughty, naughty bitch! You tapped Kieran’s teeny doinky, didn’t you? You did the naughty with him.” I had told her that Kieran loved oatmeal cookies.

“How did you figure out I slept with him? Just because I just baked him cookies?” My face burned red in embarrassment. Kieran didn’t have a teeny doinky. He had a massive doinky that warranted many doink-a-thons.

“Well, I didn’t. I’m just fishing for juicy details…My, my, Brynnie you blushin’?’“ She teased as her hands played with her phone. “I hope the son of Poseidon didn’t disappoint in bed.” Ava loved to read about the sexy sons of the Greeks. She said that those were the timeless love stories; they never grew old.

I kept a tight lid on my mouth. I was so not spilling the beans with her. Okay I was, but only after she goaded me into it.

She almost hit my face with her phone as I stood up, loading the next batch of cookies in the oven. In front of the screen was a zoomed image of Kieran in his trunks. Ava tapped the phone and Kieran’s ‘package’ filled the screen.

“So was he good?” She pointed to the center of the screen. I grabbed the phone from her. Ugh. Ava was a force to be reckoned with.

I chewed on my lip and gave her a tight smile. “He was better than good.”

“Hip freakin’ hooray!” She did a little jiggle with her hips and wiggled her butt. Some screws were knocked loose in her head sometime between infancy to the present. “Don’t spare me the details. At least you’ve been de-virginized twice now.”

How could someone be de-virginized twice? From the way she talked, you’d never guess she was an ICU nurse. Ava went into nursing school with me because she didn’t know what she wanted to be in college. With her family’s wealth, she’d never have to work a day in her life. She waited for me for almost a year before enrolling in college. Due to the fact that I was in and out of the hospital, my schooling had suffered, but I caught up with my classes as soon as I had the strength to do so, and took extra summer classes when I could. We might not be sisters, but I considered her as if we shared the same blood. She visited me almost every day in the hospital and brought me the silliest things. During the times when I was too sick to have visitors, she wrote me letters and left tiny packages for me with the nurses. She went into nursing because she liked the nurses who took care of me, she wanted to defend me from my future classmates, and she reasoned that she needed a college degree. It would be like killing three birds with one stone. It turned out that she was one of the smartest students in our nursing class. The nursing instructors hated her because she liked to challenge their opinions. Nonetheless, she got really good grades, better than mine. She processed and retained information like a computer. She went out all the time to attend the media functions and promotional events her parents asked her to because she was the face of her father’s company, but she never showed any tiredness during clinical rotations. The only reason that she was working part-time in the ICU was because she was now the head of the promotional/social media/marketing campaigns full-time and it required her to attend tons of social gatherings, in and out of the country.