1
Opal
“Is this all right?”Hunter Anderson drawls at the shell of my ear. It’s a raspy whisper and he pulls me on top of his lap so my thighs straddle his waist.
A tingle of pleasure shoots through my body and my breasts ache for his touch. After making out for the last thirty minutes, my shirt’s already off. The hot and heavy between us escalates with each whisper, kiss, and touch.
I only get the house to myself once a week and we’re taking full advantage of the privacy. Last week I let things go as far as they’ve ever gone. Not all the way, but lots of skin on skin before Hunter got off and went home. This week he surely expects more. I mean, not that he shouldn’t.
He unsnaps the clasp of my bra and slides the straps forward until my breasts are free. “You are so beautiful, Opal.” His gaze zeros in on one of my nipples until he takes it in his mouth.
A groan leaves my lips at the pleasure of his lips and I rock my hips forward, grinding down on his lap. His mouth and fingers assault my skin to the point my body feels as if it might set on fire if I don’t find release soon.
“I want you so much.” He leans forward on the couch and tugs his shirt off with one hand before kissing along my collarbone. “I think about this all the time.” He reclines into the cushions, his hands on my hips, and encourages me to rub against his erection. His fingers pop open the fly on his jeans, lifting my hips a moment to lean back even further and work his pants down to mid-thigh. He releases his hard length from the confines of his underwear and strokes himself a few times before he abandons his hard-on to tackle the fly on my shorts.
This is it.
My breath hitches with the rush of nerves I can’t seem to work around. There aren’t many nineteen-year-old virgins in this town. But it’s normal to feel nervous about the first time, right? At least, that’s what my friends at school reassured me over and over last year. Most of them gave it up freshman or sophomore year, and maybe it’s silly I’ve held out so long, but I have. I’ve always held the hope that my first time would be special.
With someone I want to spend forever with.
Hunter’s a good man. A life with him would mean leaving this town and going wherever the Army takes us. While I love that idea, to be free and travel the world, part of me wonders whether that’s the life he envisions, too. Am I his forever someone?
Hunter claims my mouth with his own, and his tongue sweeps inside. His fingers dip under the fabric of my cotton panties and find where I’m already wet. He groans as if he’s never felt anything better and a sense of control emboldens me.
Hunter wants me. I want him, too. I’m ready.
My lips move with his in an almost frantic battle with my will.
“Yes. Opal, yes.” He pants between kisses, rubbing tiny circles against the bundle of nerves building and aching to explode. “I want you. Are you ready?”
Am I?Oh, God, why am I overthinking this? We have been going steady since March. I’ve known him my whole life. Sure, we haven’t discussed the details of what will happen when he leaves for basic training next month, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Besides, I’m ready. I want this.
“Opal . . . hell.” His hand leaves my center to grip the waistband of my shorts. “You’re so wet. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
I’m ready. I am. But why does my tongue catch in my mouth when I try to answer him?
Hunter doesn’t wait for my answer. His lips move down the side of my neck until they reach the cleavage of my breasts. His hand works up and down his hard length between us.
This is it.
I’m doing this.
I push his hands out of the way and take over for him. Running my grip up and down his soft skin, his pleasure becomes my end game. Pants and groans hang heavily in the air. Every touch is electric. Every kiss releases another rush of butterflies. Desire pools low in my belly until I can’t take any more. “Hunter. I need you.”
He reaches for the waistband of my jean shorts and tries to shimmy them down my hips, but they don’t budge with the way I’m straddling his legs. There’s an urgency that’s fueled not only by the sun and how low it hangs on the horizon outside, but also by his impending departure. We don’t have much time left. Not more than a few hours.
The crunch of gravel against the weight of tires and the rumble of a familiar car engine just outside shoves all pleasure from my mind.Crap!
“Hunter!” My eyes go wide and I scramble from his lap to yank my cut-off shorts back up. I reach for my discarded bra and fasten it as quickly as my fingers will move.
“Shit!” He tucks his dick—still very much erect—back in his underwear before tugging his jeans back up his hips. “He’s gonna kill me.”
Gramps goes to the Legion every Sunday evening at five o’clock for dinner. Most nights he’s not back until after ten. It’s his standing date, so I don’t understand. Why is he here? He wouldn’t know. Hunter and I have been so careful.
“Opal! Clothes!” Hunter shouts as he sweeps his shirt from the floor.
“Crap!” I dive onto the couch and reach for my blouse just as Gramps swings the front door wide open. His eyes land first on me and my disheveled state. I don’t miss how they dim with disapproval before he turns his glare on Hunter. “Get the hell out! Get out of my house!”
