I feel his whole body turn to stone for an undeniable second and I know exactly why. He forgot condoms. I whisper out a string of expletives. Tate starts to lift off of me but I reach up and wrap my hands around his neck, stopping him. “You have condoms in here? In the house?”
“No,” I say and bite my lip.
“Maybe your dad has some?”
“Vasectomy,” I explain. “My parents got pregnant with me by accident and Daisy only two months after my birth, before my mom even thought it was possible. They only wanted two, so they made sure there was no chance of more.”
“Clyde?”
“The last time Clyde had a girlfriend was the year before I was born apparently, so anything he might have would be expired and my uncles don’t live here to leave contraception lying around.” I sigh and kiss him chastely, pulling him closer so he’s touching every part of me again. I push my pelvis up and it bumps the tip of him. He fights a groan and loses.
“We need to stop talking about your relatives because the mood is imploding,” Tate replies and rolls off of me.
“What I do have is an IUD,” I say and suddenly he’s rolled back on top of me.
“What?” Tate blinks down at me.
“I’m protected. You think I’m going to just rely on condoms? No way,” I say. “But I’ve never told a guy I use other protection because I’ve never wanted a guy enough—or trusted him enough—but I do with you.”
“Really?” Tate seems stunned. “I know I’m clean. I get a full physical every six months and they include STD tests. And I’ve never had sex, ever, without a condom.”
“Well, we don’t have to now. We can do other stuff,” I say even though I really, really want him. All of him.
“I trust you too, Maggie,” Tate says softly and then I feel his fingers at my folds again and I arch my back. “And I want you so much right now.”
“Then no teasing,” I say but I’m also pushing down on his hand, begging his thumb to find my clit, which is does and I moan.
“Maybe just a little teasing,” Tate whispers against my collarbone. But after his thumb rolls against my clit one more time he shifts positions, and body parts, and runs the tip of his cock over my opening.
I grip his shoulders and bury my face in his neck as he starts to slide inside.
This is everything. He is everything. We are everything.
Those simple concise thoughts are the only thoughts my brain can form as Tate starts to move inside me. He isn’t fast or rough, but he’s breathing against my neck like he’s run two marathons. “This… Jesus. It’s so good like this.”
He’s not wrong. This feels so good and not just physically but emotionally. I feel like I’m giving him something and he’s giving me something, and it’s creating butterflies in my belly that are their own unique breed, like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
His thrusts are already as ragged as his breath, and I am writhing and panting and desperate for my own release, which comes on the heels of his judging by the noises we both make. My body goes limp a minute later and Tate’s does the same.
He turns to bury his head in my hair, his lips by my ear. “Well that was…”
Everything. It was everything. Oh my God I’m in trouble.
“That was…indescribable.” Tate finally finishes his sentence.
“Yeah.”
He lifts his head to hold my gaze. His thumb slides gently across my cheekbone. “Maggie…I think I don’t want this to end when the market does.”
Now we’re both in trouble.
“I love that you just said that, but I hate it too,” I confess and suddenly feel like crying. “Because it feels good to know I’m not alone in my feelings, but it means we’re both doomed instead of just me. Because our families will kill us.”
He opens his mouth to argue with me, but a sound outside has us both shut up. Something—it sounds like something metal—crashes. And then Clyde’s voice drifts through the air. “Stupid, dumb watering can. Who left it in the middle of the porch? God damn it.”
“Shit!” I mouth the word, not even daring to whisper it.
Tate rolls off me and I crawl off our bed of clothes and we both scurry into them as quickly and quietly as possible.
