Page 62 of A Wreck, You Make Me

I squeeze my legs around him again as I whisper, “I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“You d-do?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

His grips in my hair and on my body flex. “Your thighs are shaking.”

I realize he’s right and I tighten my muscles to stop it. “I?—”

“And that vein on your neck,” he goes on, pulling my head back and to the side as if to emphasize his point. “The one that flutters like crazy when I’m close and the one that tempts me with every breath you take, to take a bite out of you and leave you with a necklace of bruises, is throbbing faster than I’ve ever seen it.”

“It’s just that?—”

“And I’d like to take credit for it, but I don’t think it’s all me, is it?”

“I’m a virgin,” I blurt out.

His eyes flash with what I can only call a predatory glint and my heart drops to the bottom of my stomach. He leans over me like a dark shadow as he drawls, “Yeah?”

I nod jerkily, or try to, but his fingers in my hair are relentless. “I-I mean, you know that already?—”

“I do.”

“Right. So I-I came prepared,” I tell him.

“Prepared.”

“For tonight.”

“Tell me.”

I swallow. “I… I brought an overnight bag.”

“What’s in the overnight bag?”

“Toothbrush.”

“What else?”

“Moisturizer.”

“Good skin is important.”

“Some clothes and?—”

He digs his fingers in my waist. “You’re not going to need any.”

I jump, swallowing again. “An extra set of p-panties?”

He shakes his head again. “No.”

I should probably insist on panties at least, given that the ones I’m wearing are completely drenched and sticky. But it’s not about that, is it? It’s about something else, so I decide to be straight with him. “But what if it doesn’t work?”

“What doesn’t work?”