Page 113 of From Now On

“November?” He hasn’t had sex sincelast year? I thought he was going to say a few weeks, at most.

“I was focused on hockey,” he tells me, tossing his sweatpants on the floor. “This season was our last chance to win a championship.”

“That’s a lot of dedication,” I comment.

“I’m a dedicated guy.” A strange shadow passes across his face after he says it.

I’m distracted by him moving over me. We’re both completely naked, and I start moaning from the first glide of his cock through the slickness between my thighs.

All thoughts of possible pain disappear as he teases me, only giving me an inch or two at a time before withdrawing.I’mthe one wriggling and begging, trying to lift my hips and take him deeper.

His hands move from massaging my breasts to squeezing my hips. And then move lower, cupping my thighs, lifting my legs up, and then shifting me so that I’m basically folded in half. The center of my body is on full display to him.

“Can you take me like this?” he asks.

I nod quickly—I’d agree to any position right now—and he chuckles.

And then he thrusts, the burn of my leg muscles stretching fading in comparison to the way my pussy is parting to accommodate him. It’s not pleasant, but he was right. It doesn’t hurt. And my body is adjusting, widening with each tiny pulse of his hips as he works his way inside. He hits a spot that makes me gasp, already knowing my body better than I do.

I slept with two guys in high school. One, I dated for a few months. The other was a drunken fumbling at a party the summer before I left for Holt. Then, I met Ben, and at some point I concluded I’d had sex for the last first time.

I’ve always enjoyed sex, aside from my first time.

But I’m realizing I’ve never beenfuckedbefore.

And I’m learning that sex can be more thanenjoyable.

It can be this maelstrom of sensation—electricity and desperation and feeling like you mightdieif it stops. A flood of feelings that fills you up so there’s no space for anything else. No thoughts. No fears. No worries. No dreams.

The one thing I’m aware of right now—not my name, not any fears of getting pregnant, not any insecurity about how Icompare to other girls he’s been with—is that I was right about Hunter.

Whatever unconscious draw that’s existed since the first moment I saw him?I was right.

Reality is supposed to be subpar to fantasy.

But I’m worried Hunter just ruined me for anyone else.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

HUNTER

Iwake up confused.

Confused why I’m wearing sweatpants when I normally sleep in my boxers. Confused why there’s someone in my bed. Confused why my alarm is going off and the room is dark.

I squint at the source of light, my stomach sinking and my confusion clearing when I get a good look at the phone screen.

I’m in Eve’s bed. And it’s not my alarm going off.

I roll off her mattress as quickly and as quietly as I can. Eve shifts but doesn’t seem to wake up. I grab my phone and hustle down the hallway into the living room, answering the call as I sink down on the couch.

“Hello?” I croak, reaching over to turn on a lamp and then rubbing at my tired eyes.

“Hey, little brother.”

It’s silent in the background, for once. But that only makes the happy hike in his words more obvious. Makes the false cheer that’s chemically induced sound louder.

“Where are you, Sean?” I ask.

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