Firsts Read online

  FIRSTS

  C.L. MATTHEWS

  COPYRIGHT

  © 2018 C.L. MATTHEWS

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written expressed permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Editor: Cassia Brightmore – Beyond The Click Publishing Services - http://facebook.com/btcphotographyandpublishingservices/

  The use of actors, artists, movies, TV shows, and song titles/lyrics throughout this book are done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way be seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.

  This book is intended for mature adults only. Contains sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Romance. If this isn’t your type of book, then please don’t purchase it.

  This manuscript is registered with copyright.gov.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  GLOSSARY

  FIRSTS

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  GLOSSARY OF TERMS

  La Fruta Prohibida: The forbidden fruit

  Dios mío: Oh my god

  Mi corazón/corazoncito: My heart/my little heart

  ¡Mierda!: Fuck

  Mija: daughter/young girl/doting name for a girl

  Abuelita: little grandma

  Abuelo: grandpa

  Nosotros no podemos estar juntos así: We can’t be together like that.

  Coño estoy tratando muy duro de resistirte: I’m trying so fucking hard to resist you.

  Escúchame bien, niñita: Listen here, little girl.

  Lo siento: I’m sorry

  ¡Sal de aqui!: Get out!

  No vuelvas: Don’t come back!

  ¡Cálmate!: Calm down

  Sido una niña mala: been a bad girl

  Estoy mal de la cabeza: I’m sick in the head.

  Pequeños mierdas: little fuckers/shits

  Cariño: Darling/sweetheart

  Ya sabes que eres preciosa, ¿verdad?: You know you’re beautiful, right?

  Hijo de puta: Son of a bitch

  Pendejos cabron: fucking assholes

  ¡Puta madre!: Motherfucker

  Ella es todo para mí: She’s everything for me.

  ¡Maldita sea!: dammit

  No te acerques a mi hija, hijo de puta: Stay away from my daughter, you son of a bitch!

  No puedo respirar cuando no estás cerca: I cannot breathe without you near.

  Quédate quieta: Stay still

  No me puedo controlar: I can’t control myself

  FIRSTS

  She’s forbidden.

  Too young, too pure, and not mine.

  I’ll break all the rules to be with her.

  She belongs to me, even if she doesn't know it yet.

  He’s taboo.

  Too old, too experienced, and my stepfather.

  I’ll cross every line to be with him.

  He's not mine, and never will be.

  It’s not about the danger of what's forbidden,

  it’s about the pleasure we get from it.

  All consequences be damned.

  There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.

  Mark Twain

  ONE

  SILAS

  Four Years Ago

  WHEN I WAS IN HIGH school, and still lived in Puerto Rico, I fell in lust with my best friend’s girl. Xiomara Díaz. I wouldn’t call it love; it was more of a craving, something I couldn’t have, but had to have.

  She’s the tiniest thing with curves for days. Long, almost black hair adorns her narrow face, nose, and sharp features are almost too angelic. Xo straightens her hair daily, if I didn’t know her as long as I have, I’d never know she’s naturally curly. Her natural curls are sexy, but she avoids them. It’s a shame.

  There’s always been this absolute need to fuck her, to own her in some way, and it couldn’t happen.

  Semantics.

  From far away, I watched her fall in love with my best friend. And, as every single day passed, the itch that needed immediate scratching flared.

  But for him, I kept it in check.

  For her, I stayed away.

  For me, I kept myself busy with Los Desolados. The Desolate, a group of guys I grew up with, Danté included. We did stupid shit, but I left it all behind for her.

  In the end, when Danté devastated her by abandoning her and their baby, I finally swooped in. Xo needed someone, and I made sure to be that person. Now, nearly fourteen years later, she needs me again. It’ll be a sweet reunion with her on all fours, taking my cock as I coax that darker part of us.

  I’ve always been her friend, someone to save her when she’s in trouble. After she got knocked up, I was there for her. When Danté came back into their life a few years later, and left soon after, I picked up the pieces. And, every time he left, she and I shared a carnal hunger that only our bodies could satiate.

  It’s never been love between us, it's only been sexual, a deep passion that we share, and to salve for the wounds Danté caused. We care about one another, but she’ll never love anyone other than him, and that’s okay with me. I’m not in it for love. Love ruins everything. It destroys like a living corrosive, melting, disintegrating, and breaking you apart until there’s absolutely nothing left. When you truly give love to another, you’re giving them the power to make you ache eternally.

  I’ll never allow that again.

  I’ll never open up to this eternal hell again.

  I’m not privy as to why she's called me back again. I just know when she calls, I come. And that’s just how it's always been. I’m here for her, and whether from me caring, or from guilt, I do it.

  After our short call, I took the next available flight to Cape Hill, Arizona. That’s how I find myself waiting for a bus to her club, since she didn’t want me stopping at her house quite yet. Apparently, she hasn’t warned her daughter about me, and needs to break the news before letting a stranger into their home. It’s already humid and hot as hell, but luckily, I’m wearing cargo shorts and a lightweight t-shirt.

  This tiny town is similar to my home town, Esperanza. It’s littered with graffiti, garbage, and a smell akin to loneliness, the same as I left it all that time ago. Cape Hill is familiar and unb
ecoming in that abused kind of way. It’s anything but welcoming, my temporary home for now.

  As I stand at the bus stop waiting, on my way to Cynosure, the club Xo owns—I spot her. She grips her bag, her thimble fingers fidgeting with the strap, her teeth digging into her bottom lip in a nervous gesture. The sun is lit behind her, making her almost glow in the early morning light. Her shoulders are stiff, and she doesn’t appear to be excited for whatever is coming. I catch her eyes, but they stare off into space, like there’s so much weighing on her dainty little shoulders, and all she can do is stress about it. She’s breathtaking.

  In this moment, I realize my immediate attraction to this beautiful stranger.

  Her innocence calls out to my desolate soul. It’d eat her for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  The darkest, nearly black, corkscrew curly hair, the smoothest, and most supple looking medium brown skin, and icy blue eyes—they are attributes that immediately draw me in.

  Her eyes know of a hard life.

  Her mouth screams uncertainty.

  Her body begs to be taken care of.

  She looks like a young Xiomara. No, she couldn’t be. Xo’s daughter is only thirteen. This girl has to be at least seventeen. At least. There’s too much awareness there. Like when you see a person on the street, and you just know, they’ve been through hell and back, and haven’t quite escaped the memories. This girl has that.

  Her cheekbones are also too prominent to be that young. She has a sensibility about her that's too mature. And her coloring is off, her hair doesn’t match…but those eyes, that tiny, slim nose, and her lips. They’re vastly similar.

  She's maybe ten feet away from where I wait, and alluring in an unconventional way. She’s wearing jean short overalls that sit right above her mid-thighs, and a plain classic tee. It’s hipster-like, but she makes it work. It’s blithe, carefree, and more relaxed than her stressed features would allow me to assume.

  When my gaze returns to her face, she’s blushing. The red tinting of her cheeks has me smiling from ear to ear. She has this unexplainable presence about her. Innocent. Not too tall or too skinny, and she’s glancing back and forth from me to her friend. Boyfriend, maybe?

  When the bus arrives, our eyes connect again. And in her icy blues—there's longing staring back at me. Adjusting from foot to foot, I ignore the telltale signs of desire in my body. No. Not happening. I avoid her face and board the bus. This is so fucking wrong. When my cock stirs, I know I’m in trouble. She’s too young, too pure, and not mine to have.

  Walking to the back of the bus, I try not to think of what her ass would look like bent over in those shorts. How she’d smell with my face in the crook of her neck, biting the throbbing vein in her throat, and the way she’d ask me to mark her in every way humanly possible. I can’t help myself when the need takes over. Right now, the need is effervescent. When I’m finally sitting, I adjust myself, and watch her animatedly speak to the guy she’s with.

  She doesn’t stop taking peeks at me the entire drive. Instead of listening to my morality, I smile and wink at her. It’s all harmless fun. I may be able to easily see myself getting lost in her petite body, but it doesn't mean I'll act on it. A man can want it, right?

  The entire way to Creswell, she crosses and uncrosses her legs, staring at me with curiosity. As dirty and disgusting as I feel for desiring a teenager, I’ll be imagining her lithe, little body later on tonight when I get to Xo’s. By then, this craving will disappear, just like usual.

  Maybe one of Xo’s girls can give me a little assistance at Cynosure. She swears the club isn’t seedy, but there’s always one woman that wants extra attention—or cash.

  Or maybe Xo will. She's probably missed how I force her body into submission, I know I have. She always screams for me, begs for me to take her harder, and it’s something I need, and soon.

  When the bus stops by a school, I know this mystery girl will be leaving soon. Chancing one last glance to etch her into my mind for the foreseeable future, I notice she's stopped halfway down the aisle of the bus. From her bare ankles that adorn a little golden anklet, to her perfectly shaped thighs, I’m stuck in a trance.

  But when her eyes and mine connect, air momentarily suffocates me. And again, she bites that damn lip, and I’m frozen fucking still. It’s like she’s silently asking me to make a move, come to her, and make her mine somehow. I can’t. Not that I don’t want to—I do. I’d haul her up over my shoulder and take her for the keeping. I’d protect her, put babies inside her, and make her mine. But I’m not that man—not anymore. And I never will be again.

  She’s not mine to have. I came to Cape Hill for a reason, and that reason has to do with an old friend. Not a beautiful girl that’ll never see me again. Momentarily, I let myself ache with that acknowledgement before closing up that part of me.

  She turns and leaves, her eyes darting back at me twice more before we start moving again. She’s la fruta prohibida—the forbidden fruit.

  It’s never meant to be consumed or taken. It’s only meant to blossom, live, and survive alone.

  Later that night, after spending the entire day with Xo, she invites me back to her place to stay until I get an apartment. It’s like no time has passed between us, we’re teenagers all over again. Except this time, there’s no Danté stopping us from spending time together.

  When I get to her home, the first thing I notice is how close it is to the bus stop I was at this morning, which is purely coincidental. And then my mind goes to the girl that made me harder than I’ve ever been in my life.

  The one I hadn’t been able to keep off my mind.

  The one whose face I imagined while bending a dancer over, fucking her until I released all the tension away.

  The one I’ll never see again.

  I knock on the door, and Xo answers. “Silas, come in,” she welcomes me with red cheeks, a huge hug, and a grin that’d make anyone return it. She smells like cinnamon and nutmeg, she must’ve made one of her famous batches of horchata.

  “Leia is upstairs, she’ll be down for dinner. I can’t wait for you to finally meet her. You haven’t seen her since she was born.” I gulp, remembering that day.

  “Sy, my water broke! Danté isn’t answering my calls.” Xo cries frantically on the other end of the phone. Her whimpers have me holding my breath. “Will you come to the hospital? Mamá and Papá won’t answer either. I really don’t want to be alone.” Her voice breaks at the last word. I’ll be there for her. I’m not sure where Danté is, but he should be with her to welcome their child into the world. Guilt eats at me that her parents won’t be witnessing their granddaughter come into the world.

  “I’ll be there,” I promise. After I hang up, I’m rushing to the hospital.

  My heart sinks at the realization of where Danté was that day. I’d stayed with Xo as she gave birth, holding her hand while she gripped it to death. And when she cried, I kissed her tears too. I was the first to bathe her daughter and I cut her umbilical cord too.

  Now, Leia is grown. Well, as grown as a thirteen-year-old can be. After a moment, I pull away from our hug, shoving the bad taste that Danté leaves in my mouth behind me.

  “Yeah, I bet she’s all nerdy like her Mamá,” I tease. A sound draws my attention to the stairs and I see her. The tall slender girl from the bus, the one I’d spent the day fantasizing about. Fuck. Dios mío.

  The one that couldn’t have been thirteen.

  Had to be at least seventeen.

  Yet, here she is, my friend’s daughter. Now that I’m aware of her relation to Xo, it makes those subtle things I saw this morning more prominent. I’m even aware of the parts of her that she gets from Danté. The darker than brown hair, the skin complexion, and that strong jaw that made her seem much older.

  And even with all this information, I want to taint her.

  To take her and make her beg for more.

  Mierda. This sucks.

  And that’s when I realize, that there’s someth
ing incredibly disturbing about finding a teenager attractive.

  And there’s something even more disturbing about my obsession with the Díaz women.

  LEIA

  THE FIRST TIME I EXPERIENCE love, I’m only a thirteen-year-old girl. No one should know love at this age, and I’m not sure if I really do. I’m interested, sure. Infatuated, hell yes. But love? The big four letter word that I only tell my Mamá? I don’t think so.

  I imagined him all day today. When I was in class, I couldn’t focus. When I went to football practice with Brax after school, I still couldn’t get those steel gray eyes off my mind.

  Gray eyes that glinted with mischief the moment they caught mine watching him. I’ve wanted nothing more than to steal the moment with a camera, in hopes of having it stored away forever.

  When I first saw him standing by the bus stop, I thought my heart would die from the insane pressure and beats per second it was experiencing. I’ve never felt enamored by anyone, but this man caught my every breath immediately. It’s confusing, really. Realizing something monumentally life altering just occurred, and then knowing you’re unable to capture it for more than a moment’s time, it’s cruel. But no one claimed love was kind.

  There’s not a huge selection of guys in Cape Hill, and the ones here are usually into the wrong things that’d put me in the same position my dad has been in.

  When I came down my stairs for dinner, and he stood in the landing by my front door, I figured fate wanted us together. That some sappy fairytale is happening, and he’s my secret, much older prince.

  I was wrong.

  So fucking wrong.

  I don’t swear, but it’s necessary after seeing him in my home.

  “Hey, baby,” Mamá calls out to me, waving me over. “This is Silas Esparza, a friend of your dad and I from Puerto Rico.”