I stepped farther into her bedroom and checked the hallway once to make sure Mr. Riley wasn’t looking before I closed the door. “Does this mean I can now send you inappropriate text messages?”

Her cheeks reddened. It didn’t take much to make Maggie blush, and I loved whenever it happened. She flipped through her pages and reached for the right response.

Don’t be a freak.

I cocked an eyebrow and moved in closer to her, wrapping my arms around her. “What about inappropriate pictures?”

She flipped through the pages again.

Don’t be a freakier freak.

I laughed. She bent forward, placing her hands against my chest. As her fingers moved lower toward my crotch, she slowly slid her tongue against my lips, parting them before kissing me hard. It was a new move for her and I groaned, loving it more than she knew. “Maggie, you can’t tell me to not be a freak and then do something like that.”

She stepped backward and bit her bottom lip, dropping another piece of paper.

Okay, then be a freak.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling a small twitch in my jeans as I stared at her. Her long hair was wavy and still a little damp from her shower. It lay over her shoulders, brushing against the spaghetti strap dress that skimmed across her toes. She looked so simple in the most beautiful way. Her cheeks were still red, but her eyes were determined.

“You want…?”


“What about your parents?”

She dropped another piece of paper, and I couldn’t help but smirk. It was as if she knew everything I’d ask.

At my grandparents’ until tomorrow.

“And Calvin?”

With Stacey.

“And Cheryl?”

She smirked and rolled her eyes, dropping her third to last piece of paper.

Who knows?


“Yes?” The way she swayed back and forth was killing me. She was so fucking beautiful, and I swore she had no damn clue.

She held up the last piece of paper in her grip.

Come undress me now.

I stepped closer to her, running my fingers through her hair. “Are you sure?” I asked. She nodded. My mouth moved to her neck and I licked it slowly, sucking it gently. My mouth traveled down her collarbone, kissing her every step of the way. When I came to her strap, I slid it down her arm, lightly biting into her skin. A slight gasp left her, and the sound alone made me want her even more.

“We’ll go slow. We don’t need to rush,” I said, knowing it was her first time. I moved her other strap down her shoulder and her loose dress slid to the floor. I stepped back, studying her body. Her white lacey bra didn’t match her pink cotton underwear, and somehow it was perfect. Her legs looked lean and long as her arms rested at her sides. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered.

She stepped toward me, took my shirt from the bottom, and slid it over my head, tossing it on top of her dress. As she unbuckled my belt, I stepped out of my shoes and socks. She unzipped my jeans and they fell to the floor.

Maggie studied my body, her eyes moving up and down as I studied hers. Her fingers ran along my chest, moving lower and lower, to the edge of my boxers. My eyes closed as her thumb brushed against my hardness, and she slowly started stroking me through my boxers.

“Mag…” I groaned, feeling her start to stroke harder. Her free hand wrapped around the edge of my boxers, and as she started pulling them down, I opened my eyes. She was lowering herself to get on her knees. Her hands were shaking against me, and my hand flew under her forearm. “Maggie, what are you doing?”

She looked at me, confused.

“I mean…” I snickered. “I know what you’re doing, but you don’t have to…” I pulled her up to a standing position. My fingers combed through her hair. “I know you haven’t done anything before.”

Embarrassment filled her eyes and as she began to turn away from me, I rotated her back, taking her hands in mine. “Who told you to do that? Cheryl?”

She squeezed my hands twice.

I hated that. I hated that she felt she had to do certain things because of what others said. “Five minutes?” I asked, taking a few steps back from her.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped backward. When her eyes reappeared, she smiled and unhooked her bra, dropping it to the floor. I slid my boxers off, tossing them to the left. Her panties glided down her beautiful thighs and she stepped out of them.

Her hand flew up and she nodded. Five minutes.

We stood there, staring at one another. Five minutes to erase any fears. Five minutes to remember who we were. Five minutes to find our own way, our own story.

When five minutes were up, I took Maggie’s hand into mine and led her to lie down on the bed. “Maggie…” I kissed her lips. “We don’t have to do what other people do…” I kissed her neck. “We’re not them. We don’t have to follow their guidelines.” I kissed her collarbone, and she closed her eyes as I moved down her body, kissing every inch of her, tasting every piece. “You don’t have to do things a certain way.”

I spread her legs apart, kissing her thighs. My mouth grazed against her skin and she twisted her fingers into my hair. “And you can always pinch me or hit me if you ever want to stop.”

She arched her hips up toward my mouth, demonstrating how much she wanted me to continue, silently begging me to taste her. Oh, how I wanted a taste. I glanced up at her, and her eyes were on me. She was watching my every move, and I wanted her to see it all. I wanted her to watch me explore her body, to taste her body, to love her body. She and I, we weren’t following anyone else’s rules, no one else’s transcript. We were writing our own story.

Leaning forward, I swept my tongue against her, slid a finger deep inside, and introduced her to chapter one.

“I cannot believe that! I just can’t.”

The next Saturday night, Mama was having her girlfriends over. The girls had gone to high school with her, and since they now lived in different states, they only came around once or twice a year, which was too much if you asked me. Whenever they were around, I did my best to stay invisible. They weren’t the nicest people in the world. There were five of them, including Mama. Even though they had gone to high school together, I hadn’t a clue why they all traveled to hang out with each other—they couldn’t stand one another at all. Everything they talked about always seemed like a competition. If Loren’s daughter walked at ten months old, Wendy’s drove a car at nine months. If Hannah could run a 5k, Janice could do a 10k in less time.