Vance slowly, gently slid out of me and shifted to the side, taking me with him. I lifted my chin to look at him, maybe even smile at him but with one look I knew something was definitely not right.
Damn.
Maybe I’d done it wrong.
“Vance…”
His eyes were intense, more intense than his normal intense. Something was in his face, something not right and I didn’t know if it was good or bad but whatever it was, it was immense.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
So that was it.
I shook my head.
His hand moved between us then between my legs, touching me gently and my h*ps jerked at his touch because I was still tender.
The whole time he looked into my eyes, staring at me in that intense way.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Checkin’ for blood.”
My breath caught.
Oh crap.
He knew. He knew I was a virgin.
How did he know?
It was my turn to stare at him.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked.
I shook my head again.
His hand came away, his eyes went to it then he moved to the bottom of the bed and dropped over the edge silently. I stared at him while he did this, stunned immobile then his hands wrapped around my ankles and he dragged me down the bed, caught me when I came over the side and put me on my feet.
“What are you doing?” I asked, unable to keep up.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom.
“Am I bleeding?”
“No.”
“Then, why –?”
He stopped in the bathroom and nabbed a rolled washcloth (mint green, Egyptian cotton, my towels were lush) out of a basket on the back of the toilet. He threw it into the sink and turned on the tap.
“Vance, for God’s sake, what are you doing?” I snapped, my patience spent.
He came at me, face clouded.
I took one look at his face and retreated. Without far to go in the small room, my back hit the bathroom wall and his body came up against mine.
“You were a virgin,” he said.