Title: The Open Road
Author: Kaitlyn
Summary: "I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me."
Rating: R
(Notice: This section is rated R. Like any other R-rated chapter that I've ever written, it is neither distasteful nor gratuitous. This is mild, mild stuff. It actually only really pertains to one scene. I'm just warning.)
*********************************************************************************
Monica and Chandler returned with the groceries, and by 7 o'clock that night, everyone had eaten and showered. Phoebe had been trying for hours to beat Joey's top score on Pacman (to no avail), and Joey had been entertaining himself by building a sandcastle in front of the house, down by the beach. Ross and Chandler were barbequing out on the back deck, where Rachel and Monica were enjoying the hot tub. The sun was a big, orange and red ball of fire as it plummeted into the waterline in the distance, and the air was cool with a soft wind.
"I have an idea," Monica suggested after an extended period of complete silence, "let's play a game!"
"What kind of game?" Rachel asked, somewhat detachedly.
"I don't know, some sort of question game. Like, Chandler and me verses you and Ross." Rachel threw her a questioning glance.
"I don't know, Mon. You know how these things usually turn out."
"No, I'll be good, I swear! Come on, it'll be fun!"
"Who's going to ask the questions?" Chandler piped in from where he and Ross had been holding a separate conversation, over at the grill.
"I don't know..." Monica mused, "How about this? One team can ask the other a question, and visa versa, and whoever has the most creative answer wins that point!" Monica's enthusiasm and excitement were not shared by the others, but they reluctantly agreed.
"Okay, I'll start," she offered. "Ross, when did you first imagine Rachel in a sexual situation, and what was it?" After being answered by only a vaguely disgusted blank stare, and upon realizing that this was her brother she was talking to, she quickly changed her mind.
"Okay, Rachel, we're just going to move that question right on over to you."
"Good call," Ross assured.
"Well, let's see..." she mused, resting her head back against the tub and trying intently to remember. "I guess it would have to be right after I found out he was in love with me- when he was in China- and I guess it was just that he would knock on my bedroom door, take me in his arms, kiss me, and take me right there."
"Woohoo! Yow!" Monica teased, getting into the game. Rachel giggled and threw a provocative sideways glance at Ross, who's face was somewhere between bashful and aroused. Chandler flipped another rib on the grill, knowing that it was his turn.
"Alright, let's see. Mine was when I first moved in with Joey and Monica brought over these cookies as a housewarming gift. I remember thinking how maybe someday she would..." His voice trailed off and his face dropped, as if he were just realizing what he was about to say. "...have sex with Joey and, you know, maybe he'd tell me about it."
"What?!" Monica exclaimed. "That was the first sexual encounter you imagined me in?! With JOEY?!" Chandler threw the tongs down on the grill suddenly.
"Oh, COME ON, you are a LOT hotter than me! I was being realistic!" He put his hands on his hips, defensively, until Ross put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
"Okay, okay, let's just move on to the next question," Ross suggested. "Monica, who was the first guy you fell in love with?"
"Oh, that's a hard one! Well, actually, I guess it was Richard." Chandler rolled his eyes, still a little touchy from the last question, and continued flipping the food with his spatula. Rachel tossed the question to Ross.
"Oh, I don't know! You answer this one, Ross, it's too hard. I can't really remember that far back." He got serious all of a sudden, taking the spatula from Chandler and pointing his attention to the grill.
"Um, yeah, I don't really remember either. Mon, you guys get this point." Monica made a "score" face and smiled at Chandler, who was actually less into the game than anyone else.
"The ribs are done. Call Joey up from the beach, and I'll put them all on plates. We'll be ready to eat in a few minutes." With that, Ross disappeared through the screen glass door and busied himself in the kitchen.
"What's with him?" Monica asked, a little befuddled at his sudden seriousness. Chandler made a face and headed for the kitchen as well.
"I don't know, maybe HIS first love was Richard, too."
Monica and Rachel passed each other annoyed glances and breathed an exasperated, simultaneous "Men!" before drying off and heading inside for dinner.
*********************************************************************************
Dinner ended a little past 8:00 pm, and everyone dispersed in their various directions. Joey and Phoebe helped Ross clean the kitchen, Chandler and Monica, after resolving their tiny argument, disappeared downstairs to watch television, and Rachel headed upstairs to get ready for her secret evening plans. While washing the dishes, Joey questioned Ross about his obviously intentional silence.
"You okay, man? You seemed kind of down during dinner." Ross shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know. It's nothing, really. I mean, it's something...don't worry about it. It's stupid."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing. Do you know where Rachel went?"
"Uh, I think she's upstairs, but don't go up there!" Ross furrowed his brow, inquisitively.
"What? Why not?"
"Um, uh, I think she's coming down with something! Yeah, that's it! She told me she didn't feel well, and, uh, you don't want to catch whatever it is that she has!"
"Really? She didn't tell me about not feeling well. I'm going to go check on her." As Ross moved to head upstairs, Joey threw himself in front them as a physical barrier.
"Wha, wha, why would you want to do that? I mean, you never know! She might have, like, that flu that's been going around! Or worse yet, the Ebola Virus! MAN, you don't want to get mixed up in that!"
"Joey, what's the matter with you?" Ross pushed him to the side and made his way up the spiral staircase, turning to the right at the top to enter his and Rachel's bedroom.
The bedroom was the most beautifully decorated in the house. It was huge, with a protruding window seat along the wall opposite the door and a king canopy bed directly to his right. The furniture was all a mixture of antique and mahogany, and the drapery and bed sheets were ocean blues, silvers, and faded greens. The master bathroom was off the far right wall, and though the door was closed, Ross could see that the light was on and that there was movement on the other side.
"Rachel?" he called out. When she didn't answer, he walked over to the door and knocked on it.
"Rach? You in there?" He was answered by a small, hesitant voice.
"Ross?" As if it would be someone else.
"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay? Joey mentioned something about you not feeling well."
"No, uh, I'm fine! Don't worry! I'm just, um..." When she couldn't finish her sentence, Ross began to get curious.
"Rach? Is something going on?" He tried the handle, but it was locked.
"No, nothing's wrong!"
"Why is the door locked?" His confusion was turning into a slight trepidation.
"I, um, uh..."
"Rachel, open the door." His mind was racing. He had absolutely no idea what would be going on inside that bathroom, but something about the situation just did not sit right with him.
"Ross, it's nothing, just go away for a minute." This request caught him off guard, and only fueled his growing anxiousness.
"What? No, I won't go away until you open this door!" Just as he clenched his fist to pull on the handle again, the door opened. What he saw standing before him left him speechless.
It was Rachel, clad in the sexiest piece of lingerie he'd ever seen. It was entirely black lace and sheer, and it hugged her so tightly and covered her so sparsely that it did not take much of an imagination to tell what was underneath. It consisted of a pair of little-boy-style underwear that started low on her hips, and a small tank-top that stopped just above her navel. Her hair was thrown messily up in a bun that was coming undone around her face, and the illumination of the bathroom light behind her made her skin look even darker and smoother than usual.
He scanned her body with his eyes, taking in every inch of her. From the smooth slope of her shoulders, to the flat plane of her stomach, past the gentle curve of her hips and down to the trim length of her legs, his eyes and his mind raced to absorb it all. He was standing just in arm's reach of her, and could not resist extending a hand to brush his fingertips along her hip, just above the waistline of her underwear. Almost as if induced by some electric volt, images of all his "firsts" with Rachel flooded his thoughts.
That first kissed- doused in the rain and rushed by the racing fear and uncertainty of their hearts. The first date- nervously reaching for her trembling hand in the movie theatre and awkwardly stumbling over just the right words. Their first time- swaddled beneath the warm bear-skin blanket, encircled in her arms and intoxicated by her sweet breath. The first "I love you"- the initial and fleeting fear that accompanied the certainty of an intense future together, quickly followed by a needy passion that was only the catalyst for feelings which they had always possessed. The first time he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was the single most beautiful woman who had ever walked the face of the planet- that very moment.
"You look..." He let out a soft breath of air that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh, unable to finish the sentence. No such word existed to describe just how she looked. Her eyes darkened and she cast him a half-smile of encouragement. He tried again, still holding his breath.
"You look..." He let out the breath that he had been holding, surrendering to the fact that he would never be able to convey, with words, what he saw. Instead, he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"What's this for?" he asked, now holding her hand in both of his against his chest. She stepped in closer to him, shifting her body forward and kissing the outside of his neck.
"You."
*********************************************************************************
The sky was a star-studded blanket that cast a pitch shadow over the Earth for as far as either of them could see, and the usually magnitude of the ocean was nothing more than the sound of a rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. The only lights that existed for them were the ones belonging to the houses that lined the beach for miles in either direction, serving as floating lanterns against the night. Their blanket was warm and cushioned by the underlying sand, while the wind ruffled their hair and danced across their skin. They laid on their sides, facing one another, each propping their heads up on bent elbows.
"I love the ocean." Rachel mussed, starring out in it's general direction, though the intense obscurity of the night made it impossible to actually see. He brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek.
"Why's that?" he asked in a low voice that was highlighted by a genuine curiosity. He watched as she pondered his question- really took in the importance and grandeur of it. It was several minutes before she answered.
"When I was a little girl, I got everything I wanted. I always sort of felt like the whole world was mine to own..." Her gaze never wavered from it's fixed position, somewhere out into the vague abyss.
"...but then...then, we'd come to this beach house. I would sit out here on the beach at night, just like this...and I would get this feeling of utter misplacement. I mean, in those moments, I really understood just how big the world was. It grounded me...it made me feel like I wasn't the one in the spotlight all the damn time. It took some of the attention off of me, you know? It might sound weird...but it made me feel invisible."
"Rachel..." For the first time since they'd been out there, she turned her stare away from the ocean and looked at him. He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, and waited until he was sure she was really paying attention.
"Sorry to disappoint you...but you could never be invisible to anyone with eyes." She smiled, closing her eyes and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was their first since they'd been out on the beach, and a kiss on sand always felt different than a kiss anywhere else. It felt more freeing- like if you did it for long enough, you would just float up into the sky.
"And you could never disappoint me."
"Touche." This arose a giggle from her, which excited him beyond anything he could ever explain. He had no idea why it had such an affect one him- maybe it was just the sheer Rachelness of her laugh that made his heart skip a beat. Whatever it was, he wished she'd do it for eternity.
She was still wearing that irresistible outfit from before, and he suddenly felt very overdressed upon looking at her. She was practically naked. Sensing his discomfort, she scooted closer to him to press her body against his. She rubbed one hand over his back and used the other to brush a thumb against his lips.
"What're you thinking?" He almost laughed at the impossibility of answering that question. If only she knew. He opted for the simplest answer, and perhaps the most applicable one.
"You...always."
With that, she rolled over on top of him, kissing him with a rushed, fiery intensity that he had not known since that very first kiss. She pulled his sweater up over his head, undressing him as quickly as possible. This was not about tact nor subtlety, and they both knew it. This was about reassuring each other that what they had found 4 years ago had not faded with time. This was about reaffirming a kiss- a moment- that had taken place just inside a coffee shop one fateful night so long ago, and that had changed both of them irrevocably.
He let his hands roam wildly over her body, tangling through her hair and then swooping down to cup her ass. Before either of them knew it, they were completely naked and he was inside her, and it was like every first time put together. She leaned down from her place on top of him and cupped his face in her hands as she kissed him. Everywhere their skin touched was like ice and fire all at once, and it sent electrifying chills over both of them.
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him. They laid like that for moments on end, neither of them saying and word. Finally, when she rolled to his side and settled for draping a leg over him and laying her head against his chest, Rachel remembered something from that afternoon.
"Sweety..." she began, somewhat groggily, "what was wrong this afternoon? You were so quiet during dinner." He stroked her hair and arm instinctively, taking a moment to recall exactly what HAD been wrong.
"Oh, um, it was nothing. Don't worry about it." At this, she propped her head up on an elbow and looked down at him.
"Come on, tell me what was wrong. Was it something I said?"
"No, no, no, it wasn't you. I just, um, I was just remembering something. I guess it made me kind of, uh, sad." She furrowed her brow, inviting him to finish his thought. He took the initiative.
"I know it's stupid, but...I just...I guess I'm just going to have to deal with the fact that you were my first love and I wasn't yours." Her face softened with a sudden compassion and understanding. She reached her hand out to run the back of her fingers over his cheek.
"That's not stupid...and you aren't going to have to 'deal with that'."
"What do you mean?"
"You were." He didn't understand.
"I was what?" She smiled at his obvious confusion.
"My first love. The reason I couldn't remember earlier was because I was going through all the guys I'd slept with before you, or all the guys I'd dated, or all the guys I'd had crushed on. I didn't LOVE any of them, though, honey. So you see, you WERE my first." With this revelation, his confusion turned to blissful pride.
"Really?"
"Really."
"So many firsts..." he mused.
(End Chapter 3. There's more to come, so keep the reviews coming, too!)
Author: Kaitlyn
Summary: "I got some beer and the highway's free, and I got you and, baby, you got me."
Rating: R
(Notice: This section is rated R. Like any other R-rated chapter that I've ever written, it is neither distasteful nor gratuitous. This is mild, mild stuff. It actually only really pertains to one scene. I'm just warning.)
*********************************************************************************
Monica and Chandler returned with the groceries, and by 7 o'clock that night, everyone had eaten and showered. Phoebe had been trying for hours to beat Joey's top score on Pacman (to no avail), and Joey had been entertaining himself by building a sandcastle in front of the house, down by the beach. Ross and Chandler were barbequing out on the back deck, where Rachel and Monica were enjoying the hot tub. The sun was a big, orange and red ball of fire as it plummeted into the waterline in the distance, and the air was cool with a soft wind.
"I have an idea," Monica suggested after an extended period of complete silence, "let's play a game!"
"What kind of game?" Rachel asked, somewhat detachedly.
"I don't know, some sort of question game. Like, Chandler and me verses you and Ross." Rachel threw her a questioning glance.
"I don't know, Mon. You know how these things usually turn out."
"No, I'll be good, I swear! Come on, it'll be fun!"
"Who's going to ask the questions?" Chandler piped in from where he and Ross had been holding a separate conversation, over at the grill.
"I don't know..." Monica mused, "How about this? One team can ask the other a question, and visa versa, and whoever has the most creative answer wins that point!" Monica's enthusiasm and excitement were not shared by the others, but they reluctantly agreed.
"Okay, I'll start," she offered. "Ross, when did you first imagine Rachel in a sexual situation, and what was it?" After being answered by only a vaguely disgusted blank stare, and upon realizing that this was her brother she was talking to, she quickly changed her mind.
"Okay, Rachel, we're just going to move that question right on over to you."
"Good call," Ross assured.
"Well, let's see..." she mused, resting her head back against the tub and trying intently to remember. "I guess it would have to be right after I found out he was in love with me- when he was in China- and I guess it was just that he would knock on my bedroom door, take me in his arms, kiss me, and take me right there."
"Woohoo! Yow!" Monica teased, getting into the game. Rachel giggled and threw a provocative sideways glance at Ross, who's face was somewhere between bashful and aroused. Chandler flipped another rib on the grill, knowing that it was his turn.
"Alright, let's see. Mine was when I first moved in with Joey and Monica brought over these cookies as a housewarming gift. I remember thinking how maybe someday she would..." His voice trailed off and his face dropped, as if he were just realizing what he was about to say. "...have sex with Joey and, you know, maybe he'd tell me about it."
"What?!" Monica exclaimed. "That was the first sexual encounter you imagined me in?! With JOEY?!" Chandler threw the tongs down on the grill suddenly.
"Oh, COME ON, you are a LOT hotter than me! I was being realistic!" He put his hands on his hips, defensively, until Ross put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
"Okay, okay, let's just move on to the next question," Ross suggested. "Monica, who was the first guy you fell in love with?"
"Oh, that's a hard one! Well, actually, I guess it was Richard." Chandler rolled his eyes, still a little touchy from the last question, and continued flipping the food with his spatula. Rachel tossed the question to Ross.
"Oh, I don't know! You answer this one, Ross, it's too hard. I can't really remember that far back." He got serious all of a sudden, taking the spatula from Chandler and pointing his attention to the grill.
"Um, yeah, I don't really remember either. Mon, you guys get this point." Monica made a "score" face and smiled at Chandler, who was actually less into the game than anyone else.
"The ribs are done. Call Joey up from the beach, and I'll put them all on plates. We'll be ready to eat in a few minutes." With that, Ross disappeared through the screen glass door and busied himself in the kitchen.
"What's with him?" Monica asked, a little befuddled at his sudden seriousness. Chandler made a face and headed for the kitchen as well.
"I don't know, maybe HIS first love was Richard, too."
Monica and Rachel passed each other annoyed glances and breathed an exasperated, simultaneous "Men!" before drying off and heading inside for dinner.
*********************************************************************************
Dinner ended a little past 8:00 pm, and everyone dispersed in their various directions. Joey and Phoebe helped Ross clean the kitchen, Chandler and Monica, after resolving their tiny argument, disappeared downstairs to watch television, and Rachel headed upstairs to get ready for her secret evening plans. While washing the dishes, Joey questioned Ross about his obviously intentional silence.
"You okay, man? You seemed kind of down during dinner." Ross shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know. It's nothing, really. I mean, it's something...don't worry about it. It's stupid."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's nothing. Do you know where Rachel went?"
"Uh, I think she's upstairs, but don't go up there!" Ross furrowed his brow, inquisitively.
"What? Why not?"
"Um, uh, I think she's coming down with something! Yeah, that's it! She told me she didn't feel well, and, uh, you don't want to catch whatever it is that she has!"
"Really? She didn't tell me about not feeling well. I'm going to go check on her." As Ross moved to head upstairs, Joey threw himself in front them as a physical barrier.
"Wha, wha, why would you want to do that? I mean, you never know! She might have, like, that flu that's been going around! Or worse yet, the Ebola Virus! MAN, you don't want to get mixed up in that!"
"Joey, what's the matter with you?" Ross pushed him to the side and made his way up the spiral staircase, turning to the right at the top to enter his and Rachel's bedroom.
The bedroom was the most beautifully decorated in the house. It was huge, with a protruding window seat along the wall opposite the door and a king canopy bed directly to his right. The furniture was all a mixture of antique and mahogany, and the drapery and bed sheets were ocean blues, silvers, and faded greens. The master bathroom was off the far right wall, and though the door was closed, Ross could see that the light was on and that there was movement on the other side.
"Rachel?" he called out. When she didn't answer, he walked over to the door and knocked on it.
"Rach? You in there?" He was answered by a small, hesitant voice.
"Ross?" As if it would be someone else.
"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay? Joey mentioned something about you not feeling well."
"No, uh, I'm fine! Don't worry! I'm just, um..." When she couldn't finish her sentence, Ross began to get curious.
"Rach? Is something going on?" He tried the handle, but it was locked.
"No, nothing's wrong!"
"Why is the door locked?" His confusion was turning into a slight trepidation.
"I, um, uh..."
"Rachel, open the door." His mind was racing. He had absolutely no idea what would be going on inside that bathroom, but something about the situation just did not sit right with him.
"Ross, it's nothing, just go away for a minute." This request caught him off guard, and only fueled his growing anxiousness.
"What? No, I won't go away until you open this door!" Just as he clenched his fist to pull on the handle again, the door opened. What he saw standing before him left him speechless.
It was Rachel, clad in the sexiest piece of lingerie he'd ever seen. It was entirely black lace and sheer, and it hugged her so tightly and covered her so sparsely that it did not take much of an imagination to tell what was underneath. It consisted of a pair of little-boy-style underwear that started low on her hips, and a small tank-top that stopped just above her navel. Her hair was thrown messily up in a bun that was coming undone around her face, and the illumination of the bathroom light behind her made her skin look even darker and smoother than usual.
He scanned her body with his eyes, taking in every inch of her. From the smooth slope of her shoulders, to the flat plane of her stomach, past the gentle curve of her hips and down to the trim length of her legs, his eyes and his mind raced to absorb it all. He was standing just in arm's reach of her, and could not resist extending a hand to brush his fingertips along her hip, just above the waistline of her underwear. Almost as if induced by some electric volt, images of all his "firsts" with Rachel flooded his thoughts.
That first kissed- doused in the rain and rushed by the racing fear and uncertainty of their hearts. The first date- nervously reaching for her trembling hand in the movie theatre and awkwardly stumbling over just the right words. Their first time- swaddled beneath the warm bear-skin blanket, encircled in her arms and intoxicated by her sweet breath. The first "I love you"- the initial and fleeting fear that accompanied the certainty of an intense future together, quickly followed by a needy passion that was only the catalyst for feelings which they had always possessed. The first time he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was the single most beautiful woman who had ever walked the face of the planet- that very moment.
"You look..." He let out a soft breath of air that was somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh, unable to finish the sentence. No such word existed to describe just how she looked. Her eyes darkened and she cast him a half-smile of encouragement. He tried again, still holding his breath.
"You look..." He let out the breath that he had been holding, surrendering to the fact that he would never be able to convey, with words, what he saw. Instead, he took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"What's this for?" he asked, now holding her hand in both of his against his chest. She stepped in closer to him, shifting her body forward and kissing the outside of his neck.
"You."
*********************************************************************************
The sky was a star-studded blanket that cast a pitch shadow over the Earth for as far as either of them could see, and the usually magnitude of the ocean was nothing more than the sound of a rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore. The only lights that existed for them were the ones belonging to the houses that lined the beach for miles in either direction, serving as floating lanterns against the night. Their blanket was warm and cushioned by the underlying sand, while the wind ruffled their hair and danced across their skin. They laid on their sides, facing one another, each propping their heads up on bent elbows.
"I love the ocean." Rachel mussed, starring out in it's general direction, though the intense obscurity of the night made it impossible to actually see. He brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek.
"Why's that?" he asked in a low voice that was highlighted by a genuine curiosity. He watched as she pondered his question- really took in the importance and grandeur of it. It was several minutes before she answered.
"When I was a little girl, I got everything I wanted. I always sort of felt like the whole world was mine to own..." Her gaze never wavered from it's fixed position, somewhere out into the vague abyss.
"...but then...then, we'd come to this beach house. I would sit out here on the beach at night, just like this...and I would get this feeling of utter misplacement. I mean, in those moments, I really understood just how big the world was. It grounded me...it made me feel like I wasn't the one in the spotlight all the damn time. It took some of the attention off of me, you know? It might sound weird...but it made me feel invisible."
"Rachel..." For the first time since they'd been out there, she turned her stare away from the ocean and looked at him. He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, and waited until he was sure she was really paying attention.
"Sorry to disappoint you...but you could never be invisible to anyone with eyes." She smiled, closing her eyes and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was their first since they'd been out on the beach, and a kiss on sand always felt different than a kiss anywhere else. It felt more freeing- like if you did it for long enough, you would just float up into the sky.
"And you could never disappoint me."
"Touche." This arose a giggle from her, which excited him beyond anything he could ever explain. He had no idea why it had such an affect one him- maybe it was just the sheer Rachelness of her laugh that made his heart skip a beat. Whatever it was, he wished she'd do it for eternity.
She was still wearing that irresistible outfit from before, and he suddenly felt very overdressed upon looking at her. She was practically naked. Sensing his discomfort, she scooted closer to him to press her body against his. She rubbed one hand over his back and used the other to brush a thumb against his lips.
"What're you thinking?" He almost laughed at the impossibility of answering that question. If only she knew. He opted for the simplest answer, and perhaps the most applicable one.
"You...always."
With that, she rolled over on top of him, kissing him with a rushed, fiery intensity that he had not known since that very first kiss. She pulled his sweater up over his head, undressing him as quickly as possible. This was not about tact nor subtlety, and they both knew it. This was about reassuring each other that what they had found 4 years ago had not faded with time. This was about reaffirming a kiss- a moment- that had taken place just inside a coffee shop one fateful night so long ago, and that had changed both of them irrevocably.
He let his hands roam wildly over her body, tangling through her hair and then swooping down to cup her ass. Before either of them knew it, they were completely naked and he was inside her, and it was like every first time put together. She leaned down from her place on top of him and cupped his face in her hands as she kissed him. Everywhere their skin touched was like ice and fire all at once, and it sent electrifying chills over both of them.
When it was over, she collapsed on top of him. They laid like that for moments on end, neither of them saying and word. Finally, when she rolled to his side and settled for draping a leg over him and laying her head against his chest, Rachel remembered something from that afternoon.
"Sweety..." she began, somewhat groggily, "what was wrong this afternoon? You were so quiet during dinner." He stroked her hair and arm instinctively, taking a moment to recall exactly what HAD been wrong.
"Oh, um, it was nothing. Don't worry about it." At this, she propped her head up on an elbow and looked down at him.
"Come on, tell me what was wrong. Was it something I said?"
"No, no, no, it wasn't you. I just, um, I was just remembering something. I guess it made me kind of, uh, sad." She furrowed her brow, inviting him to finish his thought. He took the initiative.
"I know it's stupid, but...I just...I guess I'm just going to have to deal with the fact that you were my first love and I wasn't yours." Her face softened with a sudden compassion and understanding. She reached her hand out to run the back of her fingers over his cheek.
"That's not stupid...and you aren't going to have to 'deal with that'."
"What do you mean?"
"You were." He didn't understand.
"I was what?" She smiled at his obvious confusion.
"My first love. The reason I couldn't remember earlier was because I was going through all the guys I'd slept with before you, or all the guys I'd dated, or all the guys I'd had crushed on. I didn't LOVE any of them, though, honey. So you see, you WERE my first." With this revelation, his confusion turned to blissful pride.
"Really?"
"Really."
"So many firsts..." he mused.
(End Chapter 3. There's more to come, so keep the reviews coming, too!)
