Christie Ridgway Read Online Free PDF Page B

Moving in their direction. Bailey muffled a squeak of alarm and scurried away, this time with Trin in tow.
    She took refuge in the feminine hygiene aisle, where the only masculine thing in sight was a display of condoms. A sudden memory seared her brain. Sitting in a car in a drugstore parking lot, trying to melt into the passenger seat as Finn went inside for the necessities. He’d come out, reached into the brown bag, and tossed an item into her lap, right there in front of God and everybody. She’d nearly cried in embarrassment.
    Then looked down at the big bag of Reese’s minis he’d purchased as well. “Never say I don’t do foreplay,” he’d said with a grin, settling beside her.
    But his foreplay had been better than chocolate and peanut butter. Of course, they’d had years of foreplay before they’d actually had sex. First kiss to hours of kissing, to caresses over clothes, to caresses under clothes. Hours of that, too. Then all clothes off. He’d come to her more experienced in the kissing and touching department—certainly less shy about bodily responses to such—but she presumed they’d discovered the actual act together.
    That first time had been on a blanket in her back garden, with the warm summer darkness draping over them. She’d been afraid and eager and then uncaring about whether it was right or wrong or the right or wrong time for them to become lovers. He’d already made himself familiar with that mysterious territory between her thighs, a frequent traveler of all the hills and valleys and every little bump in between. Before, he had always touched her there with his lean fingers, his eyes on her face, watching for her reaction.
    And she, being a dumb girl, had thought it was important to show no reaction at all. Good girls—even good girls who played on the wild side with their bad-boy boyfriend—wouldn’t gasp or cry out or show the pleasure that was shooting from his stroking fingers to run in rippling trails of tingling heat up her spine and down the backs of her legs. She wanted to arch into his hand, but wouldn’t that look slutty? So she would close her eyes and bite her bottom lip, tensing her body against the tremors of bliss.
    That night, he’d done more. He’d bent his head to touch her with his mouth. In half agony, half excitement, she’d screwed her eyes shut tighter. How could he? Why would he? It felt so incredible. So good! Don’t let him know!
    And so she’d yanked him up by the shoulders. The unexpected movement had caused him to collapse on top of her, his erection pressing against that wonderful wet place that he’d set to pulsing. He’d groaned
    —no concern about sluttishness from him, weren’t boys so lucky?—and she’d loved the sound of it, and she’d so loved him, and she was so afraid of letting him know that she wanted his mouth back right there
    , that she’d whispered, “Oh, Finn,” and shifted the tiny bit that took him to the entrance to her body.
    And bad-boy Finn had surprised the heck out of her by practically leaping into the air. “Condom,” he’d gasped and dived for his pants. That’s when she’d figured out that like Boy Scouts, even bad boys were always prepared.
    She was still pulsing, still loving, still battling her body and its responses so that when he’d come back to her, latex-protected, and uttered a breathy “Are you sure?”—that she was. In part to hide from Finn all that he could do to her with a simple touch.
    “Earth to Bailey, Earth to Bailey.”
    Landing back in the present, she jerked her gaze down to Trin. “Sorry, I was drifting.”
    Trin snorted. Amazing how such an indelicate sound could come out of such a delicate-looking woman.
    “What?”
    “Dreaming, more like. I’d love to pursue what about, but I have to get going. Adam hasn’t been sleeping more than a couple of hours without waking up, and he’s due for another dose of kiddie cold stuff in twenty minutes. Sick babies make Drew