He looked up at her. “No?”
“No—yes.” She touched his neck again. “They’re decorative. It’s just...”
“Oh,” he said, and reached for the bottom of her skirt instead.
She laughed some more. Nervously. But also happily. She was happy. She was still rising. She lifted her arms. “Yeah.”
He pulled the dress up over her head.
Shiloh couldn’t even remember what bra she was wearing. (Her hopes for tonight had never been this high.) Surely it was a bra she’d had for years. Her panties were cotton and already riding below her belly.
She felt a little ridiculous for a second. Awkward. Imperfect. Exposed.
But then Cary pushed her back against the wall. He was kissing her neck. Sucking on it.
This was moving faster than Shiloh would have expected. (Had she expected it.) That was good. Momentum was good—it made it hard to stop. Shiloh might actually have this.Him.
Talk about bonus hours. Talk about breaks from destiny.
She closed her eyes against tears. “I want you,” she said again.
“Shiloh, Shiloh,” Cary said. He pulled her off the wall. Pulled her back toward her unmade bed. Shiloh had never seen him like this—is this how Cary was with the women he dated? Single-minded? In charge?
He fell onto the bed and brought her with him, kicking clothes and books off the bottom. Kicking off his shoes. Shiloh laughed. Cary took her face in his hands. He tried to look into her eyes. She tucked her head into his neck and kissed him there. He was so warm. He was sweating. He was taking off his shirt. Shiloh nodded. She helped. “I want you,” she whispered. “I want this.”
“I want you,” Cary said. He sat up, on the edge of her bed, to take off his pants.
Shiloh took off her bra. Cary glanced over at her—then reached for her before he’d finished with his pants. They hung on one ankle. Shiloh didn’t get a good look at his body. He was moving too fast, and the room was still dark.
She felt him climb on top of her. She felt her desire for him singing up through her veins, skating over her skin. It was happening fast. It was going to happen. She was going to have this.
Shiloh spread her legs. She was still wearing underwear. Cary touched her breast. He hummed.
“This is more than I hoped for,” she said softly.
His face dropped over hers. He pressed their foreheads together. “God. Shiloh. I just...”
“I want you.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”
She started pushing her underwear down. He lifted off of her to help.
“Where... um...” He pulled her panties down her legs. “Condoms?”
“I don’t—” Shiloh squinted against the dark. “I thought you’d have one. Like, in your wallet.”
Cary sat back on his calves. “Why would I have a condom in my wallet?” He sounded amused. He was silhouetted against a window.
“It’s a wedding, Cary. You might get lucky.”
“I’m thirty-three years old.”
“That’s the prime age for hooking up at weddings.”
Cary laughed. He shook his head, like he was shaking something off. Then he lay down next to Shiloh.
She turned toward him. She tapped his arm. “Don’t stop.”
