Page 82 of Wanted

I hum and press a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You take good care of me.” Sleep clogs her voice. “Nobody has ever taken care of me.”

As soon as we left the shower and dried off, we came into my room, where I pulled Frankie into my arms. She promptly dozed off, only to wake a few minutes ago. While she slept, I lay awake, relishing the novelty of her warmth pressed against me.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

She stretches and tips her chin to peer at me through the darkness. “The best,” she whispers.

My tattered heart swells to twice its size.

“Do you regret it?” I ask.

“God no.” A smile enters her voice.

“Can I ask you about it?”

“About what?”

“Your virginity.”

“Do you mean how was I a twenty-eight-year-old engaged virgin?” The humor in her voice eases any lingering awkwardness. Her ability to be open fills me with comfort. The trust she gives me feels misplaced and undeserved, yet she keeps on freely giving it.

“You don’t exactly seem…”

“Virginal, meek, repressed?”

Frankie turns until her torso touches mine. The swell of her breasts pillow beneath her chin. “Because I wasn’t those things. To me, being a virgin wasn’t about shying away from sex or purity. I wasn’t saving myself for some fairy-tale prince.”

“Then what was it?”

Even through the dark, her eyes level with mine.

“A choice.”

I run my tongue over my lower lip before sinking my teeth into it.

“I embraced my sexuality even more because I refused to feel pressured. And before you get it twisted in that beautiful, overthinking head of yours,” she goes on, stunning me silent by calling me beautiful. “Giving it to you was my choice too.”

“I’m honored.” The words sound hoarse, bouncing around us in the dark.

“Thank you for not freaking out.” She tilts her chin up and kisses me softly. I rise from the pillow to meet her lips. “Or treating me like glass. I’m not that fragile.”

“You’re definitely not,” I rumble, thinking of how hard she took me in the shower. How desperately hard I want her to take me again.

“I loved every second of it.”

“Baby…”

“I want a repeat.”

Blood rushes south to the area covered only by the blankets.

“You need to wait and see how you feel. Aren’t you sore?”

“I feel…” She kicks the heavy duvet off her legs. “Like I’m ready to feel you again.”

Who am I to deny her what she wants?

---