If We Ever Meet Again (If Love Book 1)

“I’m ready.”

Blake froze.

Farrah’s heart slammed against her ribcage. This was it.

Bye-bye, nineteen years of virginity.

“Are you sure?” Blake’s brow crinkled with…concern? Not the reaction she’d expected or been hoping for.

“Yes.” Farrah maneuvered them so Blake lay on his back and she hovered over him. She trailed kisses over his neck, shoulders, chest, and stomach until the agonizingly slow journey brought her to the top of his jeans. She stroked him through the denim. He was so huge and hard it sent spikes of fear and anticipation through her.

Blake’s stomach muscles contracted; a low growl ripped from his throat. He gripped her arms and yanked her up. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” She shrugged free and started unbuckling his belt.

He covered her hand with his, forcing her to still. “I don’t know if I’ll—we don’t have to do this now. We can wait.” She noticed beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“I don’t want to wait. I’m ready.” Farrah had waited nineteen years. She was tired of waiting.

The clock ticked in the corner, reminding her that every second brought them closer to the end. She’d waited her entire life to find someone who made her feel the way Blake did. To experience what her friends always gushed about. She wasn’t going to let it slip through her fingers. “I want you now.”

Farrah eased her hand out from beneath Blake’s. She tugged his jeans and boxers down and sucked in a breath at the sight of his arousal. Her body ached to feel him inside her while her mind wondered how in the world he’d fit. He was larger than anyone she’d been with, and while she hadn’t had actual intercourse with her previous partners, they were manageable. Blake, on the other hand…

“I don’t want to scare you.” Blake’s voice was so rough it was barely recognizable.

“I’m not scared.” To prove her point, Farrah kneeled and took him in her mouth. Blake shuddered as she luxuriated in the taste and feel of his warm, velvet-covered steel length. Some of her girlfriends thought blowjobs were degrading, but Farrah disagreed. There was nothing more empowering than having total control over another’s pleasure.

Besides, when you’re a 19-year-old virgin who’s done everything but, you get pretty darn good at “everything but.”

Farrah swirled her tongue over the swollen head and stroked her hands down his heated shaft. Her mouth followed her fingers from the base to the tip and back again. Blake hissed out a breath and fisted her hair with one hand when she increased her pace. Farrah moaned at the gentle tug on her scalp. The fire in her belly grew; arousal dampened her thighs. She sucked on him greedily while her hands roamed, stroking and caressing until they were both ready to explode with desire.

Blake’s body tightened. “I’m going to come,” he warned. His breath came out in short pants; a faint sheen of sweat glistened on his skin.

In response, Farrah took him deeper in her throat. She wanted to taste him, devour him, love him. She wanted all of him.

Blake’s back arched and his grip tightened as he came in her mouth. Farrah lapped up every drop, milking him dry until he collapsed back onto the bed.

She couldn’t hold back a smug smile as she slid up his body and pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Holy shit,” he groaned. He ran his fingers through her hair and stared at her with so much love it made Farrah’s heart ache. No one had ever looked at her like that before. It scared the shit out of her, but the thought of losing him scared her more. Farrah snuggled closer to him, comforted by the solid feel of his body against hers. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“In French, they use the term la petite mort, ‘the little death,’ as a euphemism for orgasm, so you’re technically correct.”

Blake’s laugh reverberated through her, making her smile. Farrah loved his laugh. It was rich and comforting, like a cup of hot chocolate on a snowy winter day.

She trailed her fingers over his chest and the hard ridges of his abdomen. To her surprise, Blake stirred against her. “How is that possible?”

He didn’t bother hiding his cocky grin. “Stamina, baby. I got lots of it.”

Farrah’s arousal spiked again. She remembered how he felt in her mouth. Now she wanted to feel him inside her, filling her until she lost all sense of time and space.

“Do you have a condom?” She reached for him, her heart pounding with excitement. Finally. She was going to—

Blake grasped her wrist and flipped her over so she was the one lying on her back again. “Not yet. I have a favor to return.”

Unease unfurled in her stomach. “It’s ok. You don’t have to.”

“Any guy who doesn’t is a dick. Do I look like a dick to you?”

“Well.” Farrah flicked her gaze down.

His chest rumbled with more laughter. “We’ll get to that later. In the meantime…” He skimmed his lips over her mouth, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, her shoulders, and her breasts, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Farrah closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensation of his touch. Still, a corner of her mind remained alert, anxious, worrying and wondering whether this time would be any different.

Blake’s mouth closed around her nipple, tonguing it, while he rolled the other between his fingers. Farrah gasped at the sensation. The ache between her legs intensified, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indentations in his skin.

If it hurt, Blake didn’t show it. He sucked hard on her nipple, then released it with an audible pop. He blew on the sensitive, swollen tip, which hardened even more from the cool air. He repeated this process on the other side, alternating between her breasts until Farrah squirmed with need.

“Blake, please,” she begged.

“Please what?” He eased her shorts and underwear down her legs and slid a finger between her slick folds. He groaned. “Jesus, you’re dripping.”

She was. Farrah had never been more turned on in her life. Her thighs were slick with her juices; her sex clenched as if she needed something—someone—buried deep inside her.

“Please. I need you.” Her whimper turned into a moan when Blake rubbed his thumb over her clit. Her hips bucked, seeking relief.

“You have me.” Blake replaced his hand with his mouth.

Farrah’s head fell back. Every scrape of his tongue against her sensitive flesh caused a bolt of sensation to sizzle through her. It was enough to turn her body into one giant nerve ending, raw and pulsing with need; it wasn’t enough to quiet the voices. They whispered in her mind, raising doubts about her body, about whether Blake enjoyed what he was doing or if he was doing it because he thought he had to. About why she teetered on the edge but couldn’t bring herself to step over.

She clutched the sheets so hard her knuckles turned white. She didn’t have this issue when she was alone. Farrah could bring herself to orgasm every time, so she knew it was possible. It just wasn’t possible with a guy.

Maybe it’ll be different with Blake. She felt more connected to him than with any guy in her past, and Lord knew he was talented. The things he was doing with his mouth…

Farrah cried out when he sucked on her clit and flicked his tongue over the most sensitive spot on her bundle of nerves.

It. Was. Incredible. But it wasn’t enough.

She tried to will her body past the finish line. It shouldn’t be hard. She was so aroused she might explode, except she didn’t. She remained on the razor’s edge, held back by some force that didn’t want her to fall. Her body craved relief, yet wouldn’t give it to her.

It was the world’s cruelest joke.

Goddammit.

Tears of frustration leaked from the corners of her eyes. A sob escaped her throat.

Blake stopped. The bed shifted as he moved up to face her. “Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” He sounded panicked.

Farrah shook her head. She kept her eyes closed, too mortified to look at him. Not only couldn’t she come, she was crying (and not from joy) in the middle of what was otherwise incredible oral sex. What was wrong with her?

“Farrah, look at me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She opened her eyes reluctantly. Concern etched Blake’s features, and his brows drew together into a deep V.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she hiccupped. She swiped her tears away. “I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

The mood was ruined. There was no use denying it.

“Don’t be sorry.” Blake lay next to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Shh. It’s ok.”

“It’s not you. It’s really not. I just—” Farrah sniffled. “I can’t, you know.”

He looked puzzled. “You can’t what?”

“I can’t…come.” She whispered the last word.

A pause, then Blake laughed. “Is that what you’re worried about? Farrah, I know it takes girls longer. It’s ok, we can—”

“No, I can’t come, period.” She kept her gaze lowered, afraid of his reaction. “I mean, I can by myself, but I’ve never been able to orgasm with a guy. Ever.”

This time the pause was more prolonged. “Well, you haven’t met anyone as talented as I am,” Blake joked in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood.

Farrah managed a watery smile. “True.” The tears slowed, thank god. “Maybe it’s just oral. If we had sex, it might be different,” she said hopefully.

You hit different spots during intercourse, right? That could be it.

“We are not having sex like it’s a science experiment,” Blake said. “Not yet. Though I would love to see you in a lab coat getup one day.”

This time he got a weak laugh out of her.

“You know that saying: try, try again. We’ll keep trying till we get there. Once we do, we’ll move to the next base.”

Farrah frowned. Great. She was going to be a virgin for the rest of her life.

“Look on the bright side.” Blake kissed her forehead. “You’ll have me, Blake Ryan, at your full disposal. I’m basically your willing sex slave. No other girl can say that.”

“They better not.” Farrah bit her lip. “What if it’s me? What if there’s something wrong with me?”

Old fears resurfaced, threatening to drown her in their turbulent waters.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Blake’s gaze turned fierce. “You’re perfect.”

“No one’s perfect.”

“You are. To me.”

Farrah buried her face in Blake’s chest, afraid he’d see how much his words affected her. She could feel his heart beating, a steady thump-thump-thump that forced those old fears to retreat.

But in their place came new ones that were even more insidious, because they were grounded in reality.

They weren’t fears; they were inevitabilities.

And Farrah knew if she wasn’t careful, they could break her heart.