Following her grandfather’s death, Mary Bonelli gives up her job in the city to return home and run the restaurant that was first opened by one of her ancestors almost a hundred years ago. However, the old neighborhood where Mary grew up has changed, and from all appearances the restaurant is barely hanging on by a thread. Today’s customers want wraps and couscous and panfried noodles not homemade pizza and lasagna, and unless Mary does something fast, by Christmas, Bonelli’s will be history.
Enter Jamie McMahon, Mary’s childhood sweetheart who is more than willing to teach Mary all she needs to know about love, romance, and turning a failing business around.
“This will be my first time, Jamie. So you’ll have to be patient with me. Okay?” She looked away, a tiny glint of moisture in her eyes. “Of course, if you’d rather not. I’ll understand. I know I shouldn’t have left it this long. I should have said or done something about us long before now.”
“Us? There’s still an us?”
“Of course there is. I promised. Remember? So did you. And north-enders never break promises, right?”
“Right.” He stroked her hair, unsure what else to say or do. He loved Mary. He always had and always would, and maybe what was happening right now was what he’d been waiting for. Why he was still single, still uncommitted and drifting. “You mean you haven’t gotten around to experimenting until now? You’ve been too busy or whatever. Or do you mean…”
“It means that I’ve waited for you, Jamie. I promised I’d wait, and I have.”
Jamie had heard all the trite phrases like feeling dizzy with joy, and having his heart full to bursting. At that particular moment, he experienced all those feelings and more. In his world, a promise, unless it was in writing and properly witnessed, meant nothing more than a casual invitation to “drop by if you happen to be passing my way”. And sex had gone from something that was supposed to be special, to something that meant very little and everyone did .
Mary, it seemed, still lived in the world of their childhood–the world where promises still meant something, and sex was special.
“Don’t you want to?”
He heard the catch in her voice and pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “Of course, I want to. You just caught me by surprise is all. I mean in this day and age…”
She managed a shaky chuckle. “Everyone is doing it like bunnies?”
“Something like that.” Slipping a finger under her chin he lifted her head so he could see into her eyes. “You sure about this?”
“I’m sure.” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I’ve waited a long time for the right moment. Make love to me, Jamie.”
Cautioning himself to take it slow and easy, he kissed her on the lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting, teasing and inviting her to play. They’d kissed like this before, but not for a long time and not with the same goal in mind. At least it hadn’t been Mary’s goal.
He moved his mouth down her neck to feast on her breasts, feeling her nipples respond by tightening into hard peaks, and hearing the little whimpering sounds she made as he laved them with his tongue. At the same time, he began to stroke her belly, inching slowly down until he found the silky hair of her pussy.
“Relax,” he murmured as he felt her muscles tighten. “Just relax and let yourself go.”
As he continued the stroking, she did relax, just a little, only to tighten up again the moment his hand moved between her legs.
“Will this hurt?”
“On what?” She hesitated, and then grasped his wrist to prevent any further exploration. “Are you very big? You know, like the studs you read about in books.”
“From what I’ve seen in the locker room, I’d say I’m average. As to those books, I’ve never read any that discussed the subject in that much detail.”
“Average? God! Jamie. I don’t have a clue what is normal, or average. I’ve only read what it says in some of those spicy romance novels.”
“And what do they say?” he inquired, aware that talking was helping her through this crucial moment and taking advantage by slipping a finger between her soft folds.
“They say–ooooh, Jamie! That feels sensational. Please, don’t stop.”
He eased her legs apart. “Tell me what it says in those novels. Every last gory detail.”
She giggled. “One of the books I read was a historical romance, and the heroine was on a ship that got captured by pirates. The pirate captain stormed into the heroine’s cabin, ripped off her clothes, and when she saw his thing she screamed with fright. She said it was the size of a tree trunk. He wanted her to touch it, but she was too scared.”
“In real life, you may be interested to know touching makes it even better.” Jamie took one of Mary’s hands and wrapped it around his own shaft. At first, she tried to resist, but keeping his own hand around hers, he began to move her hand up and down his quickly burgeoning length until she was able to feel what happened firsthand.
“This is average?” she murmured as he removed his hand and she continued her explorations alone. “Feels pretty big to me.”
She found and fondled his balls for a brief moment before returning her attention to his prick. “I guess it’s way smaller than a tree. And I really want to do this. But if it hurts too much, can I ask you to stop?”
It was Jamie’s turn to take a large breath and expel it slowly, and he cautioned himself to slow down. His rod was stiff and aching with need and if it were someone else other than Mary, he’d probably take her like the pirate captain in the book, offer comfort and apologies to smooth away any hurt, and then forget about it. But this was Mary. His beautiful, precious Mary, and he wanted the moment they joined together to be special for both of them–something they would remember with love not embarrassment or disgust.