After (The After Series) (49 page)

“If you ask if I am sure, I will kill you.”

He smiles and laughs, waving the condom between his thumb and forefinger. “I was going to say, are you going to help me put this on, or should I do it?”

I bite my lip. “Oh. I want to . . . but you have to show me how,” I say, realizing that learning about condoms in sex ed really didn’t prepare me for how this moment feels, and I don’t want to mess this up.

“Okay.” He sits on the bed and I sit up cross-legged. Stretching out to me, he kisses me swiftly on my forehead. When he tears the packet open, I hold my hand out, but he just chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll show you, this way.” Taking my hand, he pulls out the little disk and uses our entwined hands to place the condom above him. It feels slippery to the touch. “Now it goes down,” he says, his cheeks flushed. As both of our hands slide the condom over his hard skin, his eyes narrow and he grows a little larger.

“That wasn’t so bad for a virgin and a drunk,” I joke.

He raises an eyebrow at me and smiles. I am glad we are
being playful and not so intense; it makes me less nervous for what is about to happen.

“I’m not drunk, babe. I had a few drinks, but arguing with you sobered me up, as usual.” He flashes his dimples and runs his thumb across my bottom lip.

I’m relieved by his answer. It’s not like I want him passing out halfway through or puking on me. I laugh a little at my thoughts and look at him again. His eyes are clear, not glazed like they were an hour ago.

“Now what?” I say before I can stop myself.

He laughs, taking my hand and wrapping it around his length. “Eager?” he teases and I nod. “Me too,” he admits, and I love the feel of his hard flesh in my hand. Shifting his body, he hovers over me. With one knee he parts my legs, spreading them wide, and I feel his fingers rub against me.

I wonder if he will be gentle with me . . . I hope so.

“You’re soaking wet, so that will make it easier.” He inhales. His lips meet mine and he kisses me slowly, his tongue teasing mine. His lips seem to be molded against mine, made just for me. Pulling back slightly, he kisses the corners of my mouth, followed by my nose, and then my lips again. My hands go to his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to me.

“Slow, baby, we need to go slow,” he whispers against my earlobe. “It’s going to hurt at first, so just tell me if you want me to stop. I mean it, okay?” he says gently and looks straight into my eyes, waiting for my answer.

“Okay.” I gulp. I have heard that losing your virginity hurts but it can’t be that bad. I hope not, at least.

Hardin kisses me again. I feel the silky condom brush against me, causing me to shudder. Seconds later he presses into me . . .

It’s such a foreign feeling . . . My eyes screw shut and I hear myself gasp.

“You okay?”

I nod and he moves farther into me. I wince at the pinching feeling deep inside. It’s just as bad as everyone says—if not worse.

“Fuck,”
Hardin groans. His body is still, unmoving, but it’s still incredibly uncomfortable.

“Can I move?” His voice is so strained and raspy.

“Yeah,” I say. The pain continues, but Hardin kisses me all over, my lips, my cheeks, my nose, my neck, and the tears forming at the corner of my eyes. I put my focus on squeezing Hardin’s arms and feeling his warm tongue on my neck.

“Oh God,” he moans and rolls his head back. “I love you, I love you so much, Tess.” He breathes against my cheek. The comfort of his voice mutes my pain slightly, but it persists as his hips slowly roll against mine.

I want to tell him how much I love him, but I am afraid if I talk, I will cry.

“Do you . . . fuck . . . do you want me to stop?” he stutters. I can hear the pleasure and worry battling in his voice.

I shake my head and watch him in amazement when his eyes close tightly again. His jaw is clenched in concentration; his hard muscles contract and pull beneath his inked skin. The pain almost completely disappears as I watch him coming undone. He brushes my cheekbone with his fingers and kisses me again before burying his head in the crook of my neck. His breath is staggering, hot and wild against my skin. Bringing his face to mine, he opens his eyes. I would take the pain over and over to be able to feel this way, this deep-seated connection to Hardin that takes me somewhere I never knew existed. The emotion in his brilliant green eyes as he looks into mine unleashes the tears from my eyes; it sends me reeling out into the oblivion and then tethers me back to him. I love him and I know without a doubt he loves me. Even if we don’t last forever, if we end up never speaking
again, I will always know that in this moment he was everything to me.

I can tell that it’s taking everything in him to control himself, to keep this slow pace for me, and I love him all the more for it. Time slows and stops, speeds and stops again as he moves in and out of me. The salty taste of sweat is on his lips as he kisses me, and I want more. I kiss his neck and the spot under his ear that I know drives him crazy.

He shivers and moans my name. “You’re doing so good, baby. I love you so much.”

It doesn’t hurt anymore, but it is still uncomfortable, and there is a slight sting each time he thrusts into me. My lips move to his neck and my hands tug at his hair.

“I love you, Hardin,” I manage to say.

He moans and brings his swollen lips to mine. “Oh, baby, I am going to come. Okay?” he says through clenched teeth.

I nod and kiss his neck again, sucking gently on his skin. Hardin’s eyes never leave mine as he comes; promises of forever and unconditional love are made as he tenses and gently falls onto me. I can feel the heavy thrumming of his heart against my chest, and I kiss the top of his dampened hair. His chest stops heaving and he lifts up, pulling out of me. I wince at the sudden emptiness as he pulls the condom off and folds it over and places it on the floor atop the foil wrapper.

“Are you okay? How was it? How do you feel?” His eyes search my face and he looks more vulnerable than I thought possible.

“I’m okay,” I assure him. I press my thighs together to dull the ache. I can see the blood on my sheets, but I don’t want to move.

He wipes his hair away from his forehead. “Was it . . . was it what you expected?”

“It was better,” I answer honestly. Even with the pain, the
whole experience was exquisite. I find myself already fantasizing about the next time.

“Really?” He grins. I nod and he leans closer, pressing his forehead to mine.

“How was it for you? It will be better once I have more . . . experience,” I tell him.

His grin fades and he presses his fingers under my chin, tilting my head to make me look at him. “Don’t say that; it was great, baby. It was better than great, it was . . . the best,” he says and I roll my eyes. I am sure he has been with far better girls who actually know what to do and when to do it.

Answering my thoughts, he says, “I didn’t love them. It is a completely different experience when you love the person. Honestly, Tessa. It’s incomparable. Please don’t doubt yourself or degrade what we just did.” His voice is so soft and sincere, I feel my heart swell and I kiss the bridge of his nose.

He smiles and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest. He smells so good; even sweaty Hardin is my favorite scent.

“Does it hurt?” He runs his fingers through my hair and twirls a piece over his index finger.

“Sort of.” I laugh. “I’m afraid to stand up.”

He squeezes me tighter and kisses my shoulder. “I’ve never been with a virgin before,” he says quietly.

I look up at him and his eyes are soft, not mocking in the least. “Oh.” My mind produces a hundred questions about his first time. The when, where, who, and why. But I push those thoughts away—he didn’t love her. He has never loved anyone but me. I don’t care about the women in his past anymore. They are just that: his past. I only care about this beautiful, flawed man who just made love for the first time in his life.

A
n hour later, Hardin asks, “Are you ready to get up?”

“I know I should, I just don’t want to,” I tell him and rub my cheek against his chest.

“I don’t want to rush you, but I really have to piss,” he tells me and I laugh, climbing off him and the bed.

“Ow . . .” I say before I can stop myself.

“You okay?” he asks for the thousandth time. His hand reaches out to help steady me.

“Yeah, just sore.” I cringe when I look at my sheets.

He looks over at them. “Yeah, I’ll toss them.” He pulls the sheets off the small bed.

“Not in here. Steph will see them.”

“Okay? So where?” He bounces up and down on his heels. He must have been holding his bladder for a while.

“I don’t know . . . can you put them in a Dumpster or something when you leave?”

“Who said I was leaving? So, what—you sleep with me and then kick me out?” His eyes dance with amusement. He grabs his jeans and boxers off the floor and puts them on. I grab his shirt and hold it out to him.

I smack him on the butt. “Just go pee, and take the sheets out on your way, just in case.” I don’t know why I care so much, but the last thing I need is Steph drilling me for information about losing my virginity.

“Sure. I won’t look like a creep or anything, carrying bloody sheets to my car at night.”

I scowl at him and he balls the sheets up and walks to the door. “I love you,” he says before walking out.

Now that he has left the room I have a little time to collect myself. I wonder if I look as good as I feel, which is warm and oddly at peace. The memory of Hardin hovering over me while he entered me makes my stomach clench. Now I know why people make such a big deal about sex. I really have been missing out, but I know that if my first time wouldn’t have been with Hardin, it wouldn’t have been so amazing. When I look in the mirror, my mouth falls open at my reflection. My cheeks are glowing, my lips are swollen. I squish my cheeks and move my hands around; somehow I look different. It’s the slightest of changes, and I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I like it. I take a second to admire the small red marks dotted across my breasts. I don’t even remember him making them. My mind takes me back to him making love to me, his mouth hot and wet against my flesh. I am snapped from my thoughts by the door opening, causing me to jump slightly.

“Admiring yourself?” Hardin smirks and locks the door.

“No . . . I . . .” I don’t know what to say, since I’m just standing in front of the mirror completely naked, fantasizing about his lips on my skin.

“It’s cool, babe, if I had your body I would stare at myself in the mirror, too,” he says and I flush.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” I tell him while trying my best to cover myself with my hands. I don’t want to wash his scent off my body, but I need to wash everything else off.

“I’ll take one, too,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him and he holds up his hands mockingly. “Not together, I know. However . . . if we lived together we could.”

Something has changed in him, too, I can see it. It’s the way
his smile is a little deeper and his eyes brighter. I don’t reckon that anyone else would be able to spot it, but I know him better than anyone, despite the many secrets of his that I plan to uncover.

“What?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Nothing, I just love you,” I tell him and his cheeks redden slightly and his face splits into a grin, mirroring mine. We both seem to be giddy and high on each other. I love this. When I move to grab my robe, he steps in front of me.

“Have you at least thought about living with me?” he asks.

“You just asked me yesterday. I can only make one life-altering decision at a time.” I laugh.

He rubs his temples. “I just want to sign the paperwork soon. I have got to get out of that damned frat house.”

“You could just get it on your own?” I suggest again.

“I want it to be ours.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Why are you so hesitant? Is it the money? I would pay everything, of course.”

“No you wouldn’t,” I scoff. “If I was to agree to this, I would contribute—I’m not looking for a free ride.” I can’t believe we are actually discussing this.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know . . . we haven’t known each other that long. I had always thought I wouldn’t live with anyone else until I was married . . .” I explain. That’s not the only reason; my mother is a huge reason, along with the fear of having to rely on someone else. Even Hardin. That’s what my mother did. She relied on my father’s income until he left, and after that she leaned on the slim possibility of his return. She always expected him to come back for us, but he never did.

“Married? That’s an ancient idea you have there, Tessa.” He chuckles and sits down in the chair.

“What’s wrong with marriage?” I ask. “Not between us. Just in general,” I add.

He shrugs. “Nothing wrong with it, it’s just not for me.”

This has taken too serious a turn. I don’t want to discuss marriage with Hardin, but it does bother me that he says marriage isn’t for him. I haven’t ever thought about actually marrying him, it’s way too early for that. Years too early. But I would like the option eventually, and want to be married by the time I’m twenty-five and then have at least two children. I have my whole future planned.

Had,
my subconscious reminds me. I
had
everything planned until I met Hardin and now my future is constantly changing and shifting.

“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asks, breaking my thoughts.

Hardin and I making love has tied an invisible string between us, uniting our bodies and minds. The changes in my plans are for the better . . . right?

“No.” I try to hide the emotion in my voice, but it comes out heavy. “I just have never heard anyone say flat-out they don’t want to get married. I thought that’s what everyone wants—that’s the central point of life, right?”

“Not exactly. I think people just want to be happy. Think of Catherine; look what marriage brought her and Heathcliff.”