We stand there for a long moment, just holding each other, coming down from the high. Finally, she pulls back and looks up at me, and there are tears in her eyes.
"Are you okay?" I ask immediately, panicking. "Did I hurt you? Fuck, Morgan, I'm so sorry—"
"No," she says quickly, wiping at her eyes. "No, you didn't hurt me. That was... Casey, that was incredible. I'm crying because I'm happy. Because that was everything I hoped it would be and more."
Relief floods through me. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure." She smiles, watery but genuine. "That was perfect. You were perfect."
I cup her face and kiss her softly, gently, so different from the way I was just fucking her against the wall.
"You were perfect too," I tell her. "So fucking perfect, Morgan."
She leans into me, and I hold her close, breathing in the smell of her hair and sweat and sex.
I don't know what happens next. Don't know if this is just one moment or the start of something more. But right now, with her in my arms, I don't care.
Chapter 9 - Morgan
Right now is enough.
Except it's not, is it?
The thought creeps in as Casey holds me, both of us still catching our breath, still pressed together in this tiny room that smells like sex and motor oil.
Because right now will end. It has to. The sun will set, tomorrow will come, and then what?
I just lost my virginity to a man I met yesterday. A man with a daughter and a business and a whole life here in Blackwater Falls. A man I'm already half in love with, which is insane and terrifying and completely stupid.
My legs are still shaking. I can feel him leaking out of me, warm and wet between my thighs. My body aches in places I didn't know could ache.
And I've never felt more alive.
"We should probably get dress, maybe" Casey starts, then trails off.
"Yeah," I agree, even though I have no idea what we should probably do.
He helps me get dressed, his hands lingering on my skin like he's memorizing it. I pull on my panties. Ruined, definitely ruined, and my jeans, wincing slightly at the soreness between my legs.
Casey notices immediately. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
"No," I assure him quickly. "Just... sore. In a good way."
He looks uncertain, like he's not sure how there can be a good way to be sore, but he doesn't push it. We finish getting dressedin silence, and with each piece of clothing I put back on, reality settles more heavily around us.
What the fuck did we just do?
No, I know what we did. The question is: what does it mean?
Casey pulls his shirt back on, unfortunately, and runs a hand through his hair. "Morgan, we should probably talk about—"
"What this means," I finish. "Yeah. We should."
He nods and gestures to the chairs we were sitting in earlier, in the break room that feels like it was a lifetime ago instead of an hour.
We sit. The chairs creak. Neither of us speaks.
Finally, I can't take it anymore.
