Justin’s bedroom, 8:01 p.m.

I try to stop myself. I really do. I don’t want him thinking I’m overly excited about this. I don’t want to embarrass myself. But I’m having a damn hard time keeping myself from laughing or smiling. It doesn’t help matters that his lips are tickling my neck and his fingers are against the skin underneath my shirt. His shirt is already off. It came off as soon as we got into his room. As soon as I kicked the door shut, right when I was kissing him and he was pulling me backwards into the room, I pushed it up his stomach and he ripped it off. But I didn’t mind. I still don’t mind. I bite my lip as he starts pushing into me, the front of his jeans against my stomach.

It started about twenty minutes--wait, no. It really started yesterday afternoon when his mom and dad left. They have some wedding to go to in Nashville and are gonna stay a couple nights there. We watched them pull out of the drive way, waving with his mom’s dogs barking at our feet. When they were out of sight Justin looked at me and he gave me this little grin. Then he whispered in my ear to get inside and get naked. And I would have. But when we got inside Courtney was on the couch watching TV, telling us that Trace just called and that he was coming over.

Then they had the bright idea to have some friends over, which was fine, but I passed out before I was able to get to do what I really wanted to do with him.

This afternoon when Trace picked up Court, I decided not to rush it, to make it last and do my plan. I actually have it planned. I know that’s kind of a stupid dorky thing, but I want this to be perfect. So I made us dinner, just some pasta and a salad ‘cause that’s really all I know how to make. But it was good and he seemed to enjoy it.

After dinner we went and sat on his couch and I was gonna seduce him there, maybe go down on him or something, but he turned on the tv. Yeah, that kind of annoyed me, but then fate worked in my favor. There was this commercial for a local guitar and music shop and I told him how depressed I was that I didn’t know how to play guitar. I was being honest. I really wanna learn how to play. He just stared at me, and then he shook his head, laughing a bit. He told me to sit tight.

He came back like a minute later with one of his guitars in hand, and he sat back against the couch with it and started to strum a little. He took my hand and made me press down the right way on the strings to make a certain chord. I wasn’t really learning a damn thing, ‘cause he was looking fine and I was staring at him. His shirt was tight against his muscles and he kept biting his lip as he was playing. He started to sing.

I stared at him and then called his name.

I told him to put the guitar down.

I guess I kind of attacked him there on the couch. He laughed at me, he’s always laughing at me. But it’s never like a mean laugh, just kind of content and it makes me happy. Unless he’s picking on me with Trace and being an ass.

So we were making out on the couch pretty heavily and he was the one that whispered “do you wanna go upstairs.” We made our way up here, kissing the whole way. At one point he pinned me against the wall and I knew I was in trouble. I had a plan and it was to make this last and with the way he was kissing me and touching me I was about ready to go right there.

And as hot as it would be to fuck in a hallway, I really didn’t want my first time with Justin to be against a wall where I was forced to stare at baby pictures of him.

But we’re in his room, his huge bedroom with this huge bed that he’s pulling me down on. His hands are under my arms and he’s pulling me up against him where he’s laying against the bed. He kisses me, using his tongue expertly. It’s soft, yet seductive. It’s like there’s all this power and force that could just come right out of him, but he holds it back and controls it. And it’s sexy as hell. His hands are under my shirt pushing it up, and his lap is trying to press into mine. He pins me underneath him and starts to pull my shirt off.

I wanna tell him to ‘do it’, but I can’t say that ‘cause that sounds like I’m an eighth grader. I don’t wanna say ‘make love to me’ ‘cause I don’t wanna sound like some damsel in a romance novel. And I don’t want to say ‘fuck me’ ‘cause, well, I don’t want him to. I don’t want him to fuck me. That makes it seem like it doesn’t matter and this sure as hell matters.

I want him to have sex with me, but that kind of sounds technical.

Maybe I shouldn’t say anything.

“Lift up girl.” I ignore him and push him off of me and sit up and start to slide off the bed. I know he wants me to take off my top, but I can’t yet. I start to move toward his bathroom. I look over my shoulder and he’s laying there, shirtless, back up against the headboard, his jeans tight against his crotch. He moves his hand down and unbuttons the top button on his jeans.

Oh dear lord…

That man is sex.

He smiles at me. “Where the hell are you going?” And he knows it, too.

“Just stay right there…don’t you dare move.” I go and see that my little bag of goodies is still by the bathroom door. I put it there this afternoon. My hand snatches it up and I march into the bathroom and shut the door. I lean against it and stare at myself in the mirror. Wow. I’m about to do this with him. I really am. I’m about to have sex with the man I love. I close my eyes and sigh. I hope this all goes as planned. I really, really do.

I don’t want this to fuck up and him be mortified and go running from here. I don’t know why I have that fear, but I can’t shake it. I take another needed breath. There’s a half naked, sexy man out there waiting for me and I’m standing here like an idiot. I force myself to push my fear aside and dig down in the bag.

I set up some of the stuff earlier, like the cd in the player and the candles on the nightstand. I’m glad he didn’t notice them when we came in. I strip down and pull out the silk slip thing I picked out and the thong. It takes me a moment to twist and turn and get it on right. I know I’m just going too fast and getting too eager. So with my arms stuck in the air and the thing half stuck on my face, I take a breath, and then easily get it down on me, resituating my boobs so that my cleavage looks good. I slip on the thong and pull my hair down out of my ponytail and touch up my make up. I don’t have a lot on. I’m not trying to look like a whore, but a little bit of mascara can go a hell of a long way.

Finally, after moments of hard work I’m ready and I’m nervous as hell. Well not nervous, excited. I can’t believe this day is finally here. I mean it’s not like I’m losing my virginity, but I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. I mean my high school boyfriend doesn’t count and Rex… He was a nice guy and all and he was hot, but this is Justin and Justin is…

I don’t know. There’s something about him. It’s like I can see myself with him, like for a long, long time. It started out just for fun, but I guess deep down I always knew that it would be so much more. I wanna give this man everything I have. And I’m going to, in like one minute.

I look myself in the mirror to make sure everything looks ok and well, yeah I look pretty damn hot so I reach down in the bag and pull out the remote to the stereo and I sigh. Here it goes...

I swing open the door and turn out the bathroom light and just stare at him with the sexiest smile I can manage. The lights aren’t on in the room but the curtains are open just a bit to let in the dim light from outside. And he’s just laying there against the head board, one arm bent behind his head, the other beside him. He takes in a deep breath and the cocky grin that was on his face fades for a moment and his eyes widen. He moves his arms and sits up against the bed and licks his lips.

The cocky grin slowly comes back and it really gets me going. I press the right button on the remote and place it on top of the dresser beside me. I made this stupid mixed cd that’s got like Brian McKnight and Marvin Gaye and all those perfect sex songs. I figured he’d like it.

Shit! It’s too loud and blares out the speakers for a moment and I cringe and reach to get the remote and turn it down.

Fuck.

He laughs and I take a breath. Ok, that sucked. I hope that didn’t ruin anything. I look at him and I feel my face burn when I realize that the candles are just sitting on the nightstand, like lumps of wax and I realize why. I’m an idiot, I don’t even know where the hell matches are. I can’t believe I forgot that. I can’t believe I’m so stupid.

I really am an idiot sometimes.

Shit. I need to calm down.

I sigh and run my hands through my hair, scanning the hard wood floor for some answer. This is not working like I planned.

“Mere…”

I look up. “Huh…”

His eyes look me up and down lazily and he pats the bed beside him. Shit, I didn’t pull back the comforter, either. This is crashing. It’s all just crashing down. “You gonna come lay with me?”

I just nod blankly, still trying to think how the hell I can make this up or where I might be able to find some matches. I scramble up the side of the bed next to him. There’s probably some downstairs.

Ow! Fucking shit!

“Fuck!”

I hate myself. I really hate myself. He’s laughing again and pulling me into him and holding my head. “Oh my god!” He laughs. “Are you ok?”

Yeah, I just totally hit my head against the headboard. But it’s like this huge wall, the thing’s huge and I wasn’t paying attention ‘cause I was trying not to twist my slip around too much. It’s not like tight, well on my boobs it is, but it’s kind of flowy around the middle and comes down just to the upper most part of my thigh. Yeah, it’s white too, and the little silk thong matches. I know that’s stupid and it’s even stupider that it was out of the bridal collection, but I thought it was pretty.

My head throbs now, and I just lean into his chest and try not to cry. I wanted this to be perfect. I wanted there to be candles and sexy music and I didn’t want to hit my head and I wanted the covers to be pulled back. I hold onto him.

Then I feel his torso shake and I look up. He sucks in a breath and lets out a loud laugh. I just stare, wondering what the hell is going on, and then I feel him pulling something on my back and I reach behind me and feel what the hell he’s laughing and pulling at.

I hate myself.

I really do.

I fucking left the tag on the thing.

I really think I might cry. I tug at it to pull it off but just the paper comes off so there’s still that annoying plastic string. I hate my life. I really do. Of course this would fuck up. Of course the first time I was going to have sex with him everything…

You’ve got to be kidding me. What did I do? What the hell did I do to make everything so imperfect? I tried so fucking hard and now…now…

I look at him and he’s laughing. He’s actually laughing at me.

I bite my lip and pick up the remote again and angrily stop the cd which is skipping half way through a D’Angelo song. I didn’t scratch it. I left it in the fucking case. I push away from him, frowning and I sit on the edge of the bed, farthest away from him. I stare down at the floor. I angrily brush a tear away. Go ahead, call me a loser or a baby or a drama queen or a freak. I don’t care. I don’t care that I’m crying over this. ‘Cause, ‘cause this really meant a lot to me and now every damn thing sucks and, and I just wanted to do something right for once. I wanted to do something special, something that would mean a lot to us.

I sniff and look away at the bathroom door. It’s open and even though the light’s off I can see my jeans and my shirt on the floor. I should probably just go put those on, go downstairs and hide somewhere. I feel like hiding.

“Meredith…”

I can’t look at him. I just can’t.

It’s like, I’m usually very comfortable around Justin, but right now I’m fucking mortified. Here he is like, the sexiest man in the world to me and what am I? Some dorky fucking klutz who can’t even remember to take the tags off her lingerie.

I feel the bed shift and notice a pair of jeans slide over beside me. His toes and feet touch the hard wood floor. Mine miss it by a good five inches, and dangle against the wooden bed frame. I don’t look up at him. I don’t want to see him laughing at me.

He kisses my cheek and I bite my lip. I’m not going to cry any more and be a stupid little emotional girl. I’m not.

I feel his lips against my cheek and his arms are around me pulling on me. “It’s ok…” He runs his hand through my hair and holds my head and makes me turn to him, makes me look at him. I sniff and look away. “Mere, it’s ok.” I glance at him and he’s smiling again. “You gotta admit it’s kind of funny.”

I rip away from him and stand up in front of him, waving my hands about. He doesn’t understand and I’m angry. I’m not angry at him at all but at myself. I knew better than to get this excited and worked up about it. I should have just let it happen. But no, I always want everything to be perfect so I try too hard and it always blows up in my face.

“It’s not funny. I can’t do anything right, Justin. I feel like an idiot right now. Here I am supposed to seduce you and, and, and have sex with you and, and I just look like a fucking moron. I wanted this to be perfect. I wanted this to mean something and to be beautiful and now it’s all ruined!”

He gives me this lost stare. Then he blinks and it turns into a small smile. I turn away from him, I look away at this nightstand to where the stupid unlit candles are. I can feel him approach me and I feel him put his hands on my shoulders and then move them to my arms. “Look at me.”

But I can’t. I can’t look at him. I know he’ll say something sweet and perfect, but it’ll be fake. He’ll just be cheering me up to get some ass or to push me away. There’s times when I feel like I’m the biggest freak.

There’s times when I feel like the biggest failure. And I know it’s stupid ‘cause here I am all successful and famous. But what have I done really?

Not a damn thing.

He grips my arms and shakes me a bit, not hard. “Dammit Mere! Will you just look at me?”

I cry and I hate it. I wipe at my face ‘cause I didn’t want him to see it. I don’t want him to see that I’m a mess. I don’t want him thinking I’m some immature, naïve little girl. I want him to see that there’s more to me. ‘Cause there is.

He holds me in his arms and I feel safe. My frown starts to fade and I relax a little bit. It’s one of the things I love about him the most, how safe I feel when I’m with him. A lot of my doubt leaves and I’m resurged with a bit of hope. I can feel him rubbing my back, his fingers against the silk. He rests his head against mine and kisses me there, too.

“Do you still want to do this?”

I pull away. “What?”

He keeps me against him and looks down at me. He brings a hand up and rubs his thumbs firmly under my eyes. I realize just to top it off, my mascara must be running. I probably look like a circus sideshow. The amazing crying girl, 50 cents a view. Perfect.

The look he’s giving me isn’t one of humor though, and it isn’t one of disgust or wonder. It’s comforting and genuine. “Tonight,” he whispers. “Do you still want to have sex with me?”

Wow. He just laid it out there. And its sweet and its sexy and I can’t believe he’s being this way after the utter fool I’ve made of myself. I take in a sharp breath and let it out, nodding and saying, “Yes, but I know you probably don’t want-“

“Shh…” He holds my cheek in his hand and shakes his head at me. He kisses me. And it’s not just a sweet kiss or one of those ‘I want you so bad I might die’ sloppy, hungry kisses. This is slow and purposeful and I start to forget everything that just happened. He has me flush against him and…and I can feel that he’s still hard. And his hand is lifting up the back of the top to grab my ass. His other hand is still on my cheek.

He pulls away, just a little bit and he smiles at me. I can’t help it. I smile back and I latch my arms around him and hug him tightly for a moment. He just laughs at me and holds me back. He’s amazing. He just, he can do one simple thing like kiss me and all the complexities that have been plaguing my mind disappear and everything is better.

He pulls from me and pats the bed, but doesn’t move to get on it. “Sit here and let me take care of everything, ok?”

I do what he says and I sit on the end of the bed. But it kind of pisses me off. I don’t want him to think he has to be the big man and take care of his women who’s stupid and doesn’t know what she’s doing. I mean, I know I couldn’t control some of the stuff that happened and I know that I was just a little too eager, but is that bad? I don’t want him having to chastise me. I roll my eyes at him as he pulls off his jeans, leaving him in his gray boxer briefs.

“Yeah, then make sure you take the fucking tags off your damn lingerie.”

He looks at me and laughs, “I’d like to see me try and fit into that.” I must be insane because I go from being pissed off to laughing. I can’t help it. The image of Justin in a white silk slip invades my mind. I can see it, barely coming down to cover his navel. I can see the goofy little smile on his face and some hear stupid lame joke he’d tell about getting his nails done. I try to suppress it and it starts as just a giggle, but when he sees me laughing he surges towards me and pins me back against the bed.

“That’s my girl…” Bastard starts tickling me and I hit him but I can’t stop my laughter. And he’s laughing back at me and everything fades away and it’s just us, happy.

When the laughter dies down a new feeling comes over. I’m still happy, but now…now I want it. I want him and I pull him down in a kiss. He soon pulls away and pushes himself off the comforter. “Lift your butt up…”

I do and feel the comforter pulled out from under me. He throws it down to the foot of the bed and I help him pull the white sheets back as well. He throws off some of the pillows and I watch him closely. I take in every inch of him. He’s really hot. Duh, right? But really, his muscles are all toned and he, he just looks refreshed and happy.

He catches me staring at him and I say, “You’re really sexy.”

“I am?” He lifts his eyebrows in a bit of surprise and then narrows his eyes and crawls up to lay beside me on the bed. “Well, look at you little miss angel lying on my bed in silk. Th-that’s…” He sucks in a breath and I feel his hand move over the silk on my stomach. “That’s a mighty fine outfit Miss Craven.”

“You like it?” That makes me smile.

He laughs and looks down at himself. “Do you see the front of my underwear right now?”

I look down and giggle. He does have a pretty sizable hard-on. It’s hot as hell, too. Something about this man in just his underwear with an erection, I don’t know, but it gets me going.

I pull myself closer to him. “I just thought you had a thing for women who like to attempt to knock themselves out with headboards.”

He smiles and whispers to me, “See…it’s not so bad.”

“I’m so embarrassed, though.”

“Mere…” He shakes his head and rolls over on top of me, being careful where he puts his weight. This is the thing. He can be aggressive. I’ve seen him when he’s really horney and he can be like an animal, but he can also be gentle. And he always knows when I need him to be slow with me and when I need him to be sweet. He reads me so well it’s almost scary. It’s kind of exciting. “It’s me. It’s just me.”

“That thing’s still sticking in my back.” I say, talking about the plastic thing that’s now scratching against me.

He laughs at me, but this time I’m able to laugh with him a little bit. “How did you not notice the tags?”

“I…I was excited!” I pout at him and suddenly feel a bit shy. “I’ve…I’ve been planning this out for ever. I mean, I got candles…” I look over at the nightstand and he seems to be noticing them for the first time. “But I fucking forgot the matches and I made that cd.”

He laughs again. “Who burns cds anymore? Don’t you have an ipod?”

“Shut up…” I pout again and he bites his bottom lip and smiles. “I didn’t think about that.”

His smile fades and he gets this very content look on his face. He dips in for a kiss and pulls back quickly, “You still sure you want this? You’re ready?”

“God Justin…” I lightly hit the mattress with my fist and groan. I don’t think he realizes. He really must think that I just wasn’t ready to have sex with him, that I wanted to wait a month or something. Well, normally I do want to do that, but I’ll be honest, I probably would have had sex with him when we first met. I wouldn’t have been as rational about it as I am now, but I probably would have done it that first night. “I’ve been ready ever since I met you.”

“Oh really…” He smiles and shifts to push himself against my leg a little bit. He toys with the strap over my shoulder. He’s kissing my neck, but I can’t really concentrate on it ‘cause that stupid peace of plastic is sticking into my back.

I should just ignore it, but for some reason I can’t. And I feel the need to tell him. “Dammit this thing really itches.”

“Can I take it off?”

He says it so seriously. Not flirting, not joking. He’s dead serious. I mean, he’s already almost naked and yeah, I’m just in lingerie but, but when he takes this top off I’ll just be left with my thong. Even though I’ve been naked with him before…this is different. This is very, very different. I can’t help it. Excitement floods me, eagerness fills me up and I know it shows. “Y-yes…”

And it makes me feel weak. I hope that doesn’t show. The last thing I need is him thinking I’m weak.

He kneels before me on the bed and pulls me up so I’m mirroring his position. He kisses me and I feel his hands against my sides, pulling up. His hands follow the silk and he touches my breasts. I lift up and he takes it off. And we’re left staring at each other.

It’s almost dark in the room and I can barely see him now that the sun must have set. It hits me. It suddenly hits me that this, this is really going to happen. And I want to cry again but not because I’m mortified or feeling sorry for myself but, but because it’s right.

This is right.

He leans me back against the sheets and the pillows, but he doesn’t lay on me. He lies on his side next to me and he lets his hand wander and I take it all in. I close my eyes and feel his hand on my body, touching my breasts and running over my stomach, running his finger along the top of my thong and finally, pulling on my hip to get me to turn to lay my side like him, facing him. He pulls me flush against his body and the feel of us touching, almost naked, with his body so warm I just…

I really do love him.

“I want to ask you to do something for me.”

I look into his eyes, they’re so dark and blue and they’re looking right at me. “Ok…”

He takes a breath and moves his eyes from me for a moment. “You’ve got this problem of getting a little over excited about things, about building them up in your head and trying to take control.” He looks into my eyes again. “Will you just let me do this? Will you just lay back and relax and let me do this for you?”

“But I want you to enjoy it, too.”

He laughs a little and breathes out, “Damn Meredith, I have a feeling I’m going to.”

And just like that, it starts to happen. I mean, I guess it’s been happening ever since we got up here, but, but now it’s for real. It’s not this fake planned thing that, that I was stupidly trying to do. It’s real. His kissing me is real and his laying on top of me is real.

His hands running along my sides, pulling my hip up so he can push himself against me intimately, that’s…that’s fucking real. And it means a lot ‘cause sometimes, sometimes in my life, in the life that I live things can seem fake, they can have no meaning. Even though I’m not really sure what the meaning is of this, of him touching me slowly and tenderly and kissing me like it’s a gift, it doesn’t matter.

He pulls back for a moment, his hands on my breasts, his lips moving against my neck, not just on the side like normal, but underneath my chin. I run my hands up his back and over his neck, holding his head there, directing him down. I want his mouth all over me. I want him all over me. He pulls back for a moment, kissing just the top of my breasts and looking at them before looking up at me.

He licks his lips and says, “How do you want it?”

“Are you serious?” I can’t help but laugh. And I don’t know why. I guess it was just a funny thing for him to say. Like I could place an order off a value sized menu or something. I’d like two fucks and a large diet coke. Biggie Sized. I’d sing that McDonald’s jingle he wrote but I figure he might get mad at me.

He smiles. “Now you’re laughing at me.” He changes his voice, from his genuine slightly country tone to some weird mix, “Whut girl? I’ve never done this with you! I need ta know ya preferences so I can please you right.”

“You’re silly.” He sticks his tongue out at me and I wrap my arms and legs around him and giggle, “I like it all kinds of ways.”

“Oh, really?”

I nod and lean in to kiss him. “But tonight, just…” He pulls up a bit and pushes himself against me again and I sigh at the feeling. “Just make it last.” He laughs and wiggles his eyes at me and does this little rotation movement with his hips. I smack his shoulder. “And don’t start talking all vulgar about a tight pussy or slapping my ass or something.”

“I’ll try to restrain myself.” He laughs deeply and puts his arms behind my back, pulling me up and rolling over so that I’m lying on top of him.

As much as I wish I could just remember it all perfectly I know that won’t happen. I know after it’s over it’ll be like a blur, ‘cause it is. It’s a blur. Kisses here and there, hands everywhere, reaching and touching and running all over my skin. And he’s not the only participant. I copy his movements and it lasts and lasts, but soon it stops and as much as I want there to be foreplay, more intimate touching, his fingers in between my legs, or his…his mouth there, it doesn’t happen.

No, something else happens.

Somehow along the way we wind up naked and I wind up on my back and he ends up on top of me. And we stay that way. We kiss. And kiss and kiss and I pull my legs up on either side of him so he knows, so he understands that he can go ahead, that I’m ready. But he doesn’t move. He grips my hips and my thighs, but he doesn’t do the one thing that I want.

He just keeps kissing. He kisses my mouth until I’m gasping for air. I can feel him bumping into me between my thighs. I know he wants it, but he doesn’t do it. He just waits, his lips over my chin, down against my neck, kissing, and licking and nipping at me with his teeth, smiling, fucking smiling against my skin.

I want to scream, I want to scream at him to stop. I want him to never stop and I don’t know what to do. I want it to last, I want to be patient but I can’t. I can’t. I…I need him inside of me. I fucking need it.

“Just…”

I don’t finish my sentence. I barely get out what I want to say.

Because he’s there, pinning me down with his lap, pushing into me. He slides in just a bit. I reach out and pull him down against me and he pushes all the way in. All the way to the brink, pushing me to the edge almost right there with that one movement. I hold him tight against me, pulling him as close as possible, squeezing his hips with my thighs, trying to get him inside of me, all of him inside of me.

He doesn’t move. He lays there and breathes against my neck. He feels….he feels….I can’t describe it. But it’s the best thing I’ve felt. Ever.

The next thing I know I’ve gone and said it. It comes out and there’s nothing I can do to take it back.

“I love you…”

I bite my lip and try not to sob ‘cause I can feel him tense up. I can feel him not wanting to hear it and I can tell that I’ve just ruined this all over again.

Then he moves, he pulls out and I know he’s going to tell me its over, that he’s not ready and that…

“I know you do…” He whispers and he pushes back in and surges his mouth against mine, welding them together so they can’t come apart. So…so we can’t come apart.

We don’t come apart, not, not until the feel of him pushing in and pulling out makes him groan and he breaks away, moving his hips not slowly, not languidly, but to a beat, some beat I can hear in my head. It’s not loud and it’s not fast, but it’s steady and I almost start humming along. Instead I just hold on to his shoulders and I smile.

I smile and I smile….

And I smile.

I realize I’ve got my eyes shut and I open them so I can see him.

He’s smiling, too. He laughs quietly but I can feel him rumbling everywhere inside of me. He pushes in and holds it and, and I guess it’s a little weird but he kisses my nose. I don’t mind. “Is this ok?” He’s breathless and quiet. He’s not whispering but it’s this low, gravely voice.

I nod and hike my legs up a bit more, making him slip in deeper. He groans, deep and again I feel it inside of me. He’s…shit, he really is inside of me. I move my hands over his shoulders and his upper arms and then behind me, stretching my body underneath his and grabbing onto the top of the headboard as best I can. He just stares at me with these eyes, these deep, dark, primal eyes and pushes himself up a bit so his arms are out straight in front of him, his hands pressed into the pillow on either side of my head.

He moves a bit faster, and I watch him and he’s like this machine. A body too perfect, full of muscles and it’s like I was saying before, I can tell he’s holding back. I can tell he’s keeping himself in check. I can tell there’s more power behind him. I can tell that he’s not letting go and it’s so fucking sexy to know there’s some mystery buried deep inside of him. He’s bites his lip and hangs his head, sighing, still moving his hips against me.

I grip the headboard one last time as this small, sudden wave of pleasure comes over me. But I know that’s not it. I know sure as hell that…that that’s just a small teasing little preview.

I let go of the headboard and pull him against me. I need to feel all of his body pushing into me and his arms come in between my back and the mattress and he holds me and lets me kiss him. He kisses me back and its wild and his hips are still moving against me, moving in me. And...and it feels so good and he fills me up so well.

And I know it’s perverted and it’s vulgar and probably just because it’s been so long for me, but he stretches me, not hard, not painful, just slightly and I feel complete. That ache, that ache that tells me that I need something in me is heightened and every time he thrusts in me it feels perfect and it feels good and I moan, I fucking moan and I don’t know what I say to him.

He sucks on my neck and I know I’m going to have a bruise there and I don’t care. I bite his shoulder ‘cause he’s speeding up and I know what this means. Oh shit, I know what this means. I know what’s about to happen.

I hear him say ‘shit’ against my shoulder and I hold him tight and he holds me tighter and then…then, oh shit, then.

He breathes, “Fuck, Mere…” into my ear and I feel him explode inside of me. I feel him wild against me, thrusting like he’s out of control, like he can’t hold it back. He groans and gasps my name and it lasts and its long and its hard and I can’t help it and I feel my body coil and coil, and tighten and tighten, and wind and wind, and I squeeze and squeeze until there’s nothing left. Not a fucking thing left.

And…and I burst.

I burst and I shake and I lay there trembling underneath him. And I try to hold on, I try my best to hold onto him and he just kisses my shoulders and my collar, small sweet kisses. I suck in a breath, trying my best to breathe, but I can’t. And I’m hot, burning up and…and I just…

I just had sex with him.

And…and it was perfect and passionate and intense and…

I sigh and blink slowly.

I make this small groan and look to find him laying on me, still in me, eyes closed with a smile on his face. I touch his cheek. It’s hot and flushed. He’s…he’s glowing. Well, it’s not like a fucking GlowWorm, but he looks so happy and content and, and I feel the same.

I wanted it to be that way, this way. This…this was so right and so real and I giggle and hug him, not really sure what to say to him, still knowing that I told him I love him and wondering if he remembers that.

Maybe he’ll just ignore it.

He doesn’t ignore it. “You love me?”

I lick my lips and try to move a bit so that I can hide or move or get away from him, but he won’t let me. He’s still in me. I can feel his heartbeat down there and I can feel him losing it and softening. “Justin…” I want to explain myself. I want to tell him that I do, but that’s its ok if he doesn’t feel the same. I expect that. I don’t want him to think he’s obligated to say it or feel it back.

“Meredith...I…I lo-“

Shit. He’s struggling and I pull him down in a hug and run my hand over his head and whisper, “You don’t have to say it back. It’s ok.”

“No its not!” He rips away from me, pulling out. The absence shocks me for a moment and I curl up a bit. He sits up against the headboard and beats the mattress. “Dammit Meredith! I do! I just…” He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “It’s really hard for me.”

I know it is. I know he’s terrified. I know he was burned badly and I know he’s pushed that away for years and lost himself in random hook ups and tried to forget the pain that goes with being in love. And I know this relationship scares him. I know that when we were at his pool after swimming naked it scared him to talk about a future. So I put it in general terms. I stopped talking about us as a couple in the future and just talked about what he wanted out of life. We want the same things, but I didn’t point that out.

I don’t really think I had to.

I roll over on my stomach and look at him. He’s staring at me with these eyes, these eyes that are begging me to believe him, begging me to know that, that he does care and that there is love there somewhere, underneath all the fear. “You don’t have to say it.”

He licks his lips and shakes his head like I don’t understand him. What am I not getting? “Yes I do. I want to prove to you that, that I don’t care about being scared. Yeah, I’m terrified but…but you mean more than that.” He slides down and pulls me against him. I feel cold now and his body is damp not like disgustingly sweaty and dripping, but there’s a small shine, a gleam maybe and I run my hand down his back and let him hold me against his warm chest. “You…you’re everything. You…” He pulls back and leans in to press his forehead against mine. “What we just did…You know as well as I do that that was more than just sex. Right?”

I’ve never seen him stare at me this intently and to hear him say that…

I don’t know what this means and I don’t know how to decipher this. It’s like he’s trying to tell me something, but I don’t know what it is. I know what we just did was more than sex, but, but there’s not really a term for it. You can call it making love but that’s so cliché and over used. What we did was…was beautiful.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me. You don’t have to do that.”

He shakes his head. I guess I’m not getting it. I guess I don’t understand what he’s trying-

“I…I love you.” I blink and stare at him. He just stares back. “Th-There. It’s…it’s there.” His voice shakes, and he licks his lips nervously and stares at me, waiting for approval. I just gulp. He...he just said...

“I love you…” He says it again and kisses me, hard, strong, proving his point. He’s proved his point. He pushes his forehead against me again.

He whispers, “I love you.” And this time he seems completely sure of himself and he smiles and he kisses me again and whispers it against my neck, nuzzling me there and holding me against him. He runs his hands over my bare back and sighs against me. And I know, I know deep down in my heart or my soul or whatever…I know he means it.

And I just stare at the unlit candles, the mounds of wax just standing useless on the nightstand, and I can’t move and I can’t think. I just blink.

And then…then I start to smile.

He loves me.

I rub my foot against his calf. His fingers run up and down my spine, slowly and he presses his lips against my shoulder.

I bite my lip, holding back the urge to squeal.