I might be a virgin, but I’ve watched sexy movies and read every racy romance novel I could get my hands on. I know what goes on between a man and a woman. Yes, I’m sure the feelings can get intense, but I’m not going to be rendered idiotic because my privates and a boy’s privates meet up for the first time.
I’m inexperienced, not naïve, and my brain is just as much a part of this decision as the rest of me.
“A little,” Nash confesses. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” I snuggle closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Could he be any sweeter? Or perfect? Or sexy? God, he’s so sexy, it makes my blood feel like honey oozing through my veins. “All you ever do is make me feel amazing. This won’t be any different.”
“Are you sure?” he presses. “I don’t mind waiting. I…”
“What?” I let my fingers play through his spiky hair, wishing I could see his eyes.
“I really like you. A lot. I don’t want this to just be a camp thing, you know? I want to see you after. Be with you after. Like…an official couple.”
“Me, too,” I say, smiling so wide it makes my cheeks hurt.
Nash and I haven’t talked about anything long term, but I’ve had all my fingers and toes crossed this would happen. Sure, we go to different schools and live on opposite sides of town—me in a cookie cutter subdivision, Nash out in the country—but that doesn’t mean we can’t make a relationship work.
“I don’t have a lot of time during the week,” he says, a smile in his voice that makes me grin even harder. “I have football most afternoons and help out with my brothers and sisters at night, but I could come to Bliss River every Sunday.”
“And I could come out and help you babysit when I don’t have art class after school,” I say, catching his excitement for our future. “I’ve got my permit and Dad said I could borrow the truck once I turn sixteen.”
“I’d like that,” he says, before adding in a voice that completely melts my heart, “I’d like as much of you as I can get.”
“How about all of me?” I ask, wondering if this is what love feels like. If it isn’t, then love must be some insanely serious stuff.
Because this…
This is…magic.
“I’m not scared.” I cup his cheek in my hand. “I care about you so much, and I know what I want.”
Nash’s breath hitches in a way that makes me feel beautiful and powerful and so drunk with needing him I vow to beg him to get naked with me, if that’s what it takes.
“On one condition,” he finally says. “We’re a couple. Exclusive. It’s official. You’re my girl.”
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly feeling shy.
I’ve never had a boyfriend like this before, one who made it clear being a couple meant something to him, that this was a commitment more serious than most casual, high school connections.
Hearing Nash call me “his girl,” is intimate, possessive, and completely irresistible.
“And you’re my man,” I say.
His husky sound of approval sends a thrill rushing through me, giving me the courage to whisper, “Now, will you make love to me?”
He doesn’t say a word, but the next second he’s kissing me so hard and deep that, soon, his breath is my breath and I swear I can feel his heartbeat echoing in my chest.
A beat later, his hand slides beneath my shirt, making every cell in my body zing. Not long after, my shirt is off and he’s kissing me in places no boy has ever kissed me before and it is…mind-blowing.
Life changing. More pure, sweet magic.
My head spins and my fingers fist in Nash’s hair as he kisses and licks and, God, the things he does to me. The way it makes me feel. It’s more incredible, more intoxicating than I’ve ever imagined.
Soon, his hand dips beneath the waistband of my gym shorts, down until he finds the place where I want him so badly. And then his fingers begin to move, building the tension inside of me until I’m panting, moaning, my every muscle going tense as he trails hot kisses down my neck. I’m so close, so desperately close that my eyes are squeezed tight.
So tight that I don’t see the flashlights coming through the woods until it’s too late.
Too late to cover up or run or do anything else to avoid being caught in a very compromising position.