“It goes both ways. What if I told you I had all the check-ups when I came onto the Rebels, and I haven’t been with anyone in over a year?”
“That would be interesting information to have. But would you want to be …” Here goes nothing. She finished in a small voice. “My first?”
He looked a little shell-shocked. Perhaps he’d forgotten their conversation from earlier, but he managed to recover enough to respond.
“I’d be honored, Pepper. But we don’t have to do anything at all. I know the close quarters and sexy movies with bad dialogue gives this a certain inevitability, but we don’t have to give into it just because the universe is telling us to.”
Alarm skittered through her. “Okay, I understand.” She moved away, but his arm was still in a lock-grip around her shoulders.
“Not sure you do.”
“You think it would be an ‘honor’ to relieve me of my technical virginity, but neither do you want to fall in line with what the universe is instructing you to do. Got it.”
This time she managed to slip his grip and push herself to a wobbly stand.
“Lunch?” Or perhaps it was time for dinner. She may have drunk too much wine, so meals no longer had meaning or set times.
“Oh no, you’re not running away from this, Pepper.” He grasped her hand and pulled her down, roughly, so she had no choice but to straddle him. All so she wouldn’t crash into his arm.
“Bast, I heard what you said.”
“And that was me telling you that you shouldn’t feel pressured to give into the crazy fucking lust between us. What you don’t seem to be hearing is that I would love that. The idea of being buried deep inside you and without a condom—Jesus, have you the slightest clue how hot that thought is?”
She couldn’t respond, so he answered for her.
“Very, exceptionally, God-tier hot, Pepper. But I’ve been kind of jerkish and pushy and in-your-face these last couple of days, and that’s not what you need. You need someone to guide you through it gently. Not sure I can be gentle with you. Not sure I even know how to do gentle. Not when I want you so badly.”
Oh, wow. That was quite the declaration. While he spoke, she’d been holding her body above his thighs, desperate not to connect. But now she felt herself lowering to meet him and shifting forward a touch.
“I don’t need gentle, but you might need gentle yourself.”
“I—” He dipped a quick glance to his arm in a sling. “Maybe? But I want it to be good for you.” His free hand, previously resting lightly on her hip, dug into the flesh there, then moved down to grip her butt and squeezed. That move brought her closer to his erection, so hard and perfect between her thighs.
“It’s already been amazing,” she said. “How could anything we do not be good?”
And then she kissed him, letting him know with her lips and tongue how much she needed this. Whatever he could give her. In a day or so, the snow would clear, and they’d be back in the real world.
But today? She would live in this moment, and for once in her life, count herself lucky.
22
After the intimacies they’d shared so far, Bast shouldn’t have been nervous. Yet the responsibility he felt to make this perfect for her almost overwhelmed him.
“Ah, there it is,” she whispered.
“There what is?”
“The reality bump. It’s just hit you. Maybe clobbered you over the head.”
“Kind of, but not because I don’t want to do it. Or you. Because I want it too much. And there’s a good chance I’m gonna fuck it up and make your first time the worst time.”
She drew back to look at him, those whiskey-hazel eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. “Good strategy. Play down your skills. Keep the expectations to a minimum.”
“That’s me. Bast ‘Low Expectations’ Durand. Keeping women dissatisfied since 2013.”
“You lost your virginity when you were …” She did the math. “Sixteen?”
“Fifteen actually, but that first time—and year—didn’t really count because the skills took a while to develop.”
“So there are skills to speak of?” She ran her hand over his cheek, a soft gesture that had him leaning in. He was turned on, but happy to talk to her for a while and settle her nerves.
Sure, her nerves.
“There are skills. I think you’ve been on the receiving end of some of them.”
That made her blush, which was so delicious it turned him warm all over.
“How did it happen?” At his querying look, she added, “How did you lose your virginity?”
“Georgina Hanigan, in the hockey equipment room at Grenville High.”
“With a rope or a stick?”
He chuckled. “Not quite, but it did feel a bit criminal. She was the sister of one of my teammates, and if he’d found out, there would have been hell to pay.”
And this woman before him was the sister of another friend. He could see her thinking it over, maybe overthinking it.
“Connor and I aren’t that close. And even if we were, I don’t make sex-related decisions based on what other people think or how it affects them. There are only two people in this room. Only two people who matter here. I’m not going to talk to anyone about it, and that includes Connor.”
Her expression was one of relief, but maybe something else? A weary acceptance that this would remain a secret between them. Because he’d have to be crazy to tell a soul that not only had he defended this woman from all comers, not only had he whisked her away to keep her safe from the hordes looking to tear her down, but he had also slept with her.
The enemy.
Of course it could be explained with any number of reasons, couldn’t it? Forced proximity, a need for body warmth, revenge …
“And if anyone found out, you could just say the cabin fever got to you.”
That she was already coming up with the PR narrative pissed him off. Or maybe he was annoyed that she had said exactly what he was thinking.
“You think I need an explanation for this?” He gave her ass an angry squeeze. “Or this?” Moving his hand through her legs, he stroked her sweats-clad pussy.
She closed her eyes and shivered, then opened them again, her stare direct and honest.
“I just want you to have some plausible deniability should it come to that.”
Plausible deniability? Was this high school where you ignored whoever you were forced to kiss in a closet for seven seconds of heaven because they wore glasses or something?
“You’re really pissing me off, Pepper. You think I wouldn’t want to tell the world about what happened here? About how sweet you tasted and how good you are at hand jobs? Okay, maybe not the last thing because that would be very unclassy.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I’m trying to give you an out in case people ask questions.”
“Well, don’t! Let me worry about it. Hell, this started out as me trying to keep your private business private, and somehow, it’s devolved into you thinking I wouldn’t want anyone to know because of what? A stupid accident?”
Never mind that it had crossed his mind for the briefest second. Strangely, this dynamic only turned him on more, accessing the resentful, needful part of him. Blood was pumping to his cock, swelling it to the point of pain.