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.
chapter seventy-nine
An 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.”