“He wanted to get married and stay in … Kansas. I didn’t.” I was desperate to change the subject. The amusement in Travis’s eyes was humiliating enough. I didn’t want him digging further into my past.
He took a step toward me and held each side of my face. “A virgin,” he said, shaking his head. “I would have never guessed with the way you danced at the Red.”
“Very funny,” I said, stomping up the stairs.
Travis attempted to follow me but tripped and fell, rolling onto his back and laughing hysterically.
“What are you doing? Get up!” I said, helping him to his feet.
He hooked his arm around my neck, and I helped him up the stairs. Shepley and America were already in bed, so with no help in sight, I kicked off my heels to avoid breaking my ankles while walking Travis to the bedroom. He fell on his back to the bed, pulling me with him.
When we landed, my face was just inches from his. His expression was suddenly serious. He leaned up, nearly kissing me, but I pushed him away. Travis’s eyebrows pulled in.
“Knock it off, Trav,” I said.
He held me tight against him until I quit struggling, and then he flicked the strap of my dress, causing it to hang off my shoulder. “Since the word virgin came out of those beautiful lips of yours … I have a sudden urge to help you out of that dress.”
“Well, that’s too bad. You were ready to kill Parker for the same thing twenty minutes ago, so don’t be a hypocrite.”
“Fuck Parker. He doesn’t know you like I do.”
“Trav, c’mon. Let’s get your clothes off and get you in bed.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” he chuckled.
“How much did you drink?” I asked, finally getting my footing between his legs.
“Enough,” he smiled, pulling at the hem of my dress.
“You probably surpassed enough a gallon ago,” I said, slapping his hand away. I planted my knee on the mattress beside him and pulled his shirt over his head. He reached for me again and I grabbed his wrist, sniffing at the pungent stench in the air. “God, Trav, you reek of Jack Daniel’s.”
“Jim Beam,” he corrected with a drunken nod.
“It smells like burned wood and chemicals.”
“It tastes like it, too,” he laughed. I pulled open his belt buckle and yanked it from the loops. He laughed with the jerking motion and then lifted his head to look at me. “Better guard your virginity, Pidge. You know I like it rough.”
“Shut up,” I said, unbuttoning his jeans, slipping them down over his hips and then off his legs. I threw the denim to the floor and stood with my hands on my hips, breathing hard. His legs were hanging off the end of the bed, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and heavy. He had passed out.
I walked to the closet, shaking my head as I rifled through our clothes. I unzipped my dress and shoved it down over my hips, letting it fall to my ankles. Kicking it into the corner, I pulled my ponytail holder from my hair, shaking out my hair.
The closet was bursting with his clothes and mine, and I puffed, blowing my hair from my face as I searched through the mess for a T-shirt. As I pulled one off the hanger, Travis slammed into my back, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“You scared the shit outta me!” I complained.
He ran his hands over my skin. They felt different, slow and deliberate. I closed my eyes when he pulled me against him and buried his face in my hair, nuzzling my neck. As I felt his bare skin against mine, it took me a moment to protest.
“Travis …”
He pulled my hair to one side and grazed his lips along my back from one shoulder to the other, unsnapping the clahem sp of my bra. He kissed the bare skin at the base of my neck and I closed my eyes; the warm softness of his mouth felt too good to make him stop. A quiet moan escaped from his throat when he pressed his pelvis against mine, and I could feel how much he wanted me through his boxers. I held my breath, knowing the only thing keeping us from that big step I was so opposed to a few moments before was two thin pieces of fabric.
Travis turned me to face him, and then pressed against me, leaning my back against the wall. Our eyes met, and I could see the ache in his expression as he scanned the bare pieces of my skin. I had seen him peruse women before, but this was different. He didn’t want to conquer me; he wanted me to say yes.
He leaned in to kiss me, stopping just an inch away. I could feel the heat from his skin radiating against my lips, and I had to stop myself from drawing him in the rest of the way. His fingers were digging into my skin as he deliberated, and then his hands slid from my back to the hem of my panties. His index fingers slid down my hips in between my skin and the lacy fabric, and in the same moment that he was about to slip the delicate threads down my legs, he hesitated. Just when I opened my mouth to say yes, he clenched his eyes shut.
“Not like this,” he whispered, brushing his lips across mine. “I want you, but not like this.”
He stumbled backward, falling