After dinner, Nick reached across the table to cup my cheek. My eyes closed automatically at his touch. I tilted my face against his fingers, loving the strength and warmth they brought.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered.
My eyes flew open. “Your place or mine?”
“Mine.”
His response was quick, too quick, which caused me to panic. Nick lived in a fraternity house, where anything any of them did quickly became public knowledge. I didn’t want whatever was about to happen to be something that a bunch of guys I didn’t know talked about behind my back.
“But you live at a frat house,” I said, trying to backpedal. “With like a hundred guys.”
He barked out a laugh. “And?”
“It’s embarrassing,” I admitted.
“What is?” He cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes boring into mine.
“There’s not really any privacy.”
“Jess, I have my own room. No one will be around. And I’ll hurt anyone who makes you feel uncomfortable.”
Nerves shot through me. I knew what this meant, going to his room, to his house. We hadn’t gone that far yet, but after all the emotions and stupid things we’d been through already, I couldn’t say that I wasn’t amped up, or unwilling to solidify our connection.
Nick’s room had a back entrance, so no one even saw us going in, aside from the two guys who were playing some sort of drinking game on the front lawn. I’d been in Nick’s room before, but never with the silent anticipation of what was to come. We both knew it, but neither of us addressed it.
Then he shocked me by pulling out two candles from somewhere in his closet, and lighting them. I couldn’t help but wonder how often he’d done that for a girl.
“Stop, Jess,” he said, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?” I sat gingerly on the edge of his bed as he placed one candle on his dresser and the other on the nightstand near me.
“Stop thinking about who else has been in this room, or who else I’ve been with. Your emotions are written all over your face.”
How the hell did he read me so well? Was I that transparent?
“It was just the candles. They’re a nice touch,” I admitted.
“I bought them the other day. For you. For us. I don’t pull them out for every girl who comes along, okay?”
My breathing hitched. “Okay,” was all I could find the strength to say in response.
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.
I wanted to rush, my need and want for him overtaking every single one of my senses. In all my fantasies, Nick and I had ripped each other’s clothes off and scattered them on the floor in our haste to taste each other as quickly as possible. But the reality was so much better than anything my mind could cook up.
Where I was inexperienced, he was more skilled. He refused to let me do anything without his help. And he implored me to take my time, all the while constantly reminding me to slow down.
My clothes left my body a single item at a time, as did his. Neither of us removed anything without the other’s help. And each time a piece of my clothing was dropped to the floor, his eyes lit up like he’d never seen anything like me before. He stared in awe and appreciation. I’d never felt that way naked with a guy before. It was empowering.
“You’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Do you know that?”
As he kissed my exposed skin, I wondered how he’d gotten so good at this. Having sex was one thing, but being romantic about it was altogether different. The mere touch of his fingertips across my stomach sent flutters shooting through every nerve ending in my body. I’d had sex with other guys before, but they were nothing compared to this. They seemed so immature, such a waste of time. Because this, this was something I’d been missing out on.
Once we were both naked, Nick pulled me onto the bed and settled next to me. His fingers tangled in my hair as he kissed me slow and deep as if he didn’t want to stop. Each time our tongues touched, both chills and heat raced down my body. It was a blissful contradiction, all the feelings crashing into one another. I never wanted it to end.
He positioned himself above me, our skin touching in all the places the clothes had just covered. When I felt the tip of him near my entrance, I stopped him, closing my mouth to end our kiss.
“I’m not on the pill.”
“That’s why I put this on,” he said, motioning toward the condom covering him.
“When did you do that?” I asked, shocked that I had absolutely no idea when the hell he’d slipped that on.
“Two seconds ago.” He smiled and leaned back down to kiss me. “Can I continue?”
Nervous, I smiled back. “Yes.”
I braced for him, not knowing at all how he would feel inside me. But like with everything else this evening, he took his time, clearly savoring every moment between us. He pushed inside me with care, moving inch by inch before giving one last thrust.
I threw my head back, a moan escaping my lips at the feel of him. No longer concerned with how many guys were in the house or if they could hear me, my only thoughts were of Nick and this moment. The way he felt when he was inside me, I’d shout it from the rooftops when we finished.
His hips moved back and forth and I rocked against him, trying to find our rhythm. The way our bodies moved together was like a perfectly timed slow dance. In the past, sex had been awkward—I had been uncomfortable and self-conscious, worried that I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough, but not with Nick. Nick made me feel sexy, made me feel wanted, and the way our bodies fit together felt right.