Page 19 of Fumble

“And yet, you’re trying to. You don’t think I’m sexy?” I already know the answer, emboldened by the visible hard-on straining against his jeans. I drain my glass and place it on the coffee table between us. I shrug out of my jacket, exposing bare shoulders and a strapless dress. It’s tight in all the right places. Running my fingers across the swell of my breasts, his eyes are fixed on me.

“I’m going to hell.”

“I know a shortcut.” I’m wearing the heels he sent me, resting them on the table, my legs crossed just enough to be modest, but showing enough thigh to get his attention. “Could I trouble you for another glass of wine?” He watches me like an animal stalking its prey, but in this moment, I feel like the huntress—powerful and in control.

“Why do you want to sleep with me, Faith?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You were voted the sexiest man alive four years running. You’re a football legend and incredibly, stupidly handsome. You have the body of a god, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure you know how to use it to make a woman lose her mind.”

“And the other one percent.” He smirks.

“There’s a slim chance you’re nothing more than eye-candy, a bumbling fool who doesn’t know a clitoris from a claw hammer.” Filling my glass, a drop of wine spills onto his hand, and I slowly pull his finger to my lips, licking the errant wine from the tip before sucking it deep into my mouth. He doesn’t speak or move a muscle, his gaze locked on where our skin melds together.

“Fuck, Faith. I shouldn’t want you, but I do. So badly, it hurts. I’m trying to be the good guy, and you’re making it almost impossible.” The plea in his voice touches something inside me. I don’t want him to hate himself for sleeping with me, and I don’t want to mess up his relationship with my dad, but I know this could be amazing. He pulls his finger from my lips and returns to the safety of the couch across from me.

“Is it so bad that I want you not to be the good guy?”

“I don’t get it. You’re young and beautiful. As much as it pains me to say it, you could have any guy you meet, and a hell of a lot closer to your own age.” I decide to lay it all out on the table.

“You really want to know? Once known, it can’t be unknown.” His brows knit together.

“Now you’re worrying me. Just say it.”

“Okay, you asked for it. I’m a virgin.”

“What? No way! A girl as hot as you doesn’t get through college a virgin. It’s… impossible.”

“Yep. I’ve still got the V-Card. My cherry has not been popped. I am, in fact, hymenly challenged.” True shock emanates from every miniscule facial twitch. He’s trying to hide it, but it’s written all over his face.

“Faith…” The rise and fall of his chest quickens, and his breath is labored as he fights an inner war between lust and loyalty.

“I don’t want my first time to be with some random guy I don’t give a shit about.”

“Then why not wait until you’re in a relationship? I’m not talking marriage but someone you like and trust. Go out on a few dates. You know… the normal stuff.”

“I’ve had relationships, and I couldn’t get out of my own head long enough to feel comfortable with sex.”

“So, you’ve not done… anything?”

“I’m a virgin, not a recluse. Yeah, I’ve done foreplay stuff, but it didn’t go any further.”

“Why? Sorry, is that too personal?” The concern in his stare fills me with an emotion I wanted to keep out of this transaction.

“I told you I’m a virgin, and I want you to deflower me. I think we’re way past personal, don’t you?”

“I need a minute.” He walks back to the refrigerator and grabs another beer, downing it in seconds before grabbing another and slowly making his way back to where I’m sitting, nervous as hell.

“Hunter…”

“Wait, I need to know something. Why would you choose me? I’m nobody. You could do way better, and you deserve better.” He moves to within a hair’s breadth of me, searching my eyes for an answer.

“You make me feel something I haven’t before. Just being in the same room as you makes me wet. I want you, and I think you want me, too.”

“I do.”

“And you know how to make it pleasurable for me?” His wry smile has me desperately fighting the urge to kiss him. He slips his fingers into my hair, edging closer.

“I could make your body sing, sweet virgin.”

“Then give me what I want. Fuck me, make love to me, ride me, and teach me how to please you.” His lips ghost a caress over mine, but he’s holding back. “No strings. No obligations.” I dart my tongue out to lick the seam of his lips, begging entrance to taste him.

“Faith…” My name is lost on his lips as he ravishes me with the most intense, sensual kiss of my life. I know I’m setting myself up for heartbreak—three months with this man won’t be enough.

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