Free My Favorite Mistake by Elizabeth Carlos Page B

friends first, before anything else. It seemed right that
we should start there again.
    “We are whatever
you feel comfortable being. I will tell you that I hope we’ll become more.” I
had to give Rick credit for going for what he wanted. He never had been the
bashful type. That self-confidence had been one of the things that drew me to
him in the first place. It was the impetuous side of his personality that I
found both charming and exasperating.
    “We’ll have to
see. I can’t make you any promises right now.”
    “I understand. So
can a friend give another friend a hug?”
    I cleared my
throat. “Maybe.”
    We both stood up,
and after an awkward attempt, we wrapped our arms around each other, Rick
bending down over me because he was taller, his face in my neck. He started
crying, this boy who never, ever cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
    “Shh,” I said, my
arms tightening around his back. My eyes started watering, and I knew there’d
be a stain on his tee shirt when I released him. I knew I still loved him if I
wanted to cry with him over our relationship. “Everything’s going to be okay.
You’ll see.”
    Rick raised his
head and I did the same. We stared at each other for a moment, and then we
moved towards each other. I have no idea who initiated the kiss. Regardless, it
was like a match thrown on dry kindling, because there was absolutely no way we
could have stopped. We devoured each other’s mouths, as our hands groped each
other’s bodies. We ended up collapsing on the small empty floor space, Rick on
top of me. His weight felt good and right, especially when he pushed my skirt
out of the way as he settled between my thighs. We never stopped kissing the
entire time.
    I wrapped my legs
around Rick’s waist, my full skirt bunching up between us. The fabric would be
horribly wrinkled, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I could feel the
scratchy carpet against my shoulder blades, the rough denim of his jeans
against my lower body.
    I wanted him.
    Rick’s erection
pushed against my soaked panties. His jeans must be getting damp, I idly
thought, as he kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue tangling with
mine, as if we would consume each other.
    Rick’s hands
cupped my breasts. A whimper caught in the back of my throat. It attracted his
attention. He moved his mouth down my neck, tracing his tongue along the path.
“Did you like that, Faith?”
    I moaned; complete
wanton that I was. I felt his lips curve against my neck. “I’d say you do,” he
murmured, before sucking gently on my skin. I arched against him, grinding my
pelvis into his, bringing him even closer. I wanted to rip our clothes off,
wanted us to be hot and sweaty and naked.
    If you had told me
this morning that I’d be trying to lose my virginity to Rick Jensen, I would
have laughed in your face.
    Instead, I reached
down between our bodies and cupped his length. He was hard, and I remembered
how I had always loved feeling him aroused by me. There was no telling how many
girls he’d been with since we’d broken up, since I knew we’d both been sexually
frustrated the whole time we’d been together. But at this moment, I didn’t care
enough about how I might not compare to the others.
    Rick’s gasp made
me feel better. I wasn’t the only one suffering. “Did you like that, Rick?” I
asked, upset that my voice was so breathless.
    “Faith, you talk
too much,” he informed me, as he raised his head up and stared at me. Then he
captured my mouth again, grabbed both my hands, and pushed them, our fingers
interlaced, into the carpet on either side of my head. He angled his hips so
that his erection hit my center, causing me to gasp into his mouth.
    After several
thrusts, Rick released my hands as he tried to pull down my dress’ spaghetti
straps. The stupid things barely budged. At his frustrated growl, I reached
behind me, and in some weird contortionist move that surely we would appreciate
at some point, I