by Noelle Adams
“Uh, yeah.”
She giggled again. “Good. Didn’t think you’d disappoint me.”
He hauled himself up and went to pull a couple of condom packets out of a zipper pocket of his suitcase. He was walking a little stiffly as he came back, and Hannah had to admit he was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen as he approached her in his rumpled tuxedo, his mussed hair, his heavy-lidded eyes, his lean, tense body.
“What?” he asked, pausing as he stood next to the bed.
“Nothing. I just didn’t realize a man was capable of being as sexy as you are right now.”
“It’s the tux,” he murmured, sitting down on the bed beside her. “It always does it.”
She shook her head. “It’s not just the tux. It’s you.”
His face softened, and he leaned down to kiss her again. It was soft and sweet at first, but it didn’t take long for the kiss to get hungry and urgent again. Soon he was pressing the bulge of his erection against her belly and she was rocking up into him shamelessly.
As she kissed him, she tried to pull off his clothes, but she didn’t get very far until he groaned and straightened up. He pulled his jacket and shirt off in about two seconds while she worked on his trousers.
The whole thing passed in a hot haze of pleasure until he had freed his erection. Then everything slowed down, the world seemed to stand still, and she froze as she stared down at him.
Very slowly she reached for him, running her fingers up and down his shaft.
His penis. Her friend Bruce’s penis. She’d never really believed she’d touch him like this.
She heard his breath hitch at her caress, and it thrilled her.
“You’re sure about this, Hannah?” he asked thickly.
“Yeah. I’m sure. I want it to be you.”
He took and released a long breath and started to unwrap one of the condoms.
She watched as he rolled it on, and then she lay back on the bed, parting her legs to make room for him.
For the first time, she felt a little nervous. For the first time, she felt a wave of self-consciousness.
She couldn’t believe she was doing this. It was happening. She was about to have sex.
With Bruce.
He propped himself up on one arm above her and used the other to brush a few strands of hair off her face. “You need to talk to me as we do this, Hannah. I’m going to try to be... gentle. Careful. I’m going to try to not get carried away. So tell me if something hurts or if something isn’t working for you.”
She nodded, strangely touched that he was being so serious about this and feeling better because of it. She took a deep breath and nodded.
Instead of doing what she expected him to do, he leaned down to kiss her softly, sweetly.
She responded to the touch of his lips. She couldn’t help it. She reached up to run her fingers across his short hair.
The kiss distracted her enough that she didn’t tense up when she felt his hand between her legs. She was still wet, still aroused, still ready for him. He aligned himself at her entrance and pushed in just a little.
She bent up her legs and tried to relax.
He gave her another little kiss and then rested his forehead against hers for a moment. He was so tense he was almost shaking with it.
“I didn’t know it was going to be so much work for you,” she said.
She evidently surprised him because he shook with amusement, his breath blowing against her skin. “I’m up for the job.”
She smiled and kissed him, and as she did, he eased himself in a little more, drawing back, then easing in again.
“It’s fine, Bruce,” she said. “I’m good. You can get on with it.”
He nodded slowly and then adjusted his hips, pushing himself inside her more fully in a series of gentle advances and retreats. When he was inside her, he raised himself up on straightened arms and breathed deeply, closing his eyes for a moment.
She shifted a little, trying to get used to the tight penetration. She hadn’t really known what to expect. She’d heard horror stories from other women about the pain of their first times, but this wasn’t really that bad.
“How is it?” Bruce asked when he’d evidently reined in whatever he was feeling.
“It’s okay.” She tried rolling her hips but stopped when he choked on a groan. “I’m not going to lie. It’s not exactly comfortable. But it doesn’t really hurt. Just give me a minute to get used to it.”
“Take as long as you need.”
He seemed to mean what he said, although he was deeply flushed and breathing heavily. She took a few more breaths and relaxed her muscles and eventually decided she was doing pretty well. Bending her legs up farther around his hips, she made a little pump with her hips.
He gasped.
“I think you’re having a harder time than I am,” she said, reaching up to brush her knuckles against his cheek.
“I’m fine,” he said, opening his eyes again with a little smile. “I’m just not used to this much self-restraint.”
“It’s probably good for you to get some practice in that.”
“I’m sure it is.” He was smiling more fully now. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I feel pretty good. I think you can get going.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. If I didn’t like this, I’d definitely tell you.”
“Good to know.”
He blew out a breath and appeared to intentionally relax his shoulders. Then he drew his hips back just a little and pushed into her.
It was the strangest feeling—not exactly comfortable, but raw and intense and full of sensation. She made a little gasp.
He paused. “Was that bad?”
“No, not bad.”
“You gasped.”
She frowned at him. “It wasn’t a bad gasp.”
“So it was a good gasp?”
She was hit with a sudden wave of amusement and giggled helplessly.
He lowered his brows in a disapproving expression. “You’re seriously laughing at me?”
“No,” she said on another huff of amusement, trying to hold back her giggles. “Not really. I really do appreciate you being so careful, but I think you can be a little less careful now. This is working for me.”
“Seriously?” His eyes were searching her face again, almost hopeful.
It occurred to her then that it was important to him that she enjoy this. Genuinely important to him. That knowledge made her feel ridiculously good.
“I promise,” she murmured.
He nodded, evidently believing her. His expression relaxed, and he pulled back to make another thrust.
This time it felt even better. “Good,” she breathed, feeling a little self-conscious about saying it aloud but wanting him to know.
After a few more experimental thrusts, he built up a steady rhythm. It wasn’t fast or particularly hard, so it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was raw and real and intense and strangely good. Not good the way it had been when he’d made her come with his hand. Good in a different, deeper way.
She held on to his shoulders and tried to meet his thrusts with rocks of her hips, and it started feeling better the more she moved with him. Soon she was flushed and breathless and digging into his skin with her fingers.
“How is it?” Bruce rasped. His eyes only occasionally left her face to move down to her shaking body, and there was something hungry in his expression she’d never seen there before.
“It’s good. Good. Oh it’s good.” She panted out the words, too overwhelmed to make complete sentences.
“Do you think you can come?”
“I don’t... think so. It’s good, but... I don’t think.” She was feeling too raw, too deep for it to pull together into an orgasm, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying it.
“I think I... can last longer if you need me to.”
“I’m good,” she said, moving one of her hands to his face. “This is really good. I came earlier. I
don’t think trying to hold out is going to do it for me this time.”
He nodded, accepting her word, then he groaned as something changed on his face.
It was like he’d given in to what he was feeling, like he’d let go of some sort of internal restraint.
She gazed up at him, overwhelmed with feeling at the way he looked moving above her. She watched as his motion accelerated and his panting turned into helpless grunts. Then she watched the wave of pleasure transform his face as he came inside her, his body shaking through the climax in a way that proved it was really good.
She was hot and breathless and very pleased with the world when he gave a few last pushes inside her. Then he moaned long and low as his body started to relax.
She stroked his hair, his back, smiling up at him like a fool.
When he opened his eyes, he smiled back.
They didn’t say anything, but the shared gaze lasted a long time, and Hannah felt closer to him than she’d ever felt to anyone.
Anyone.
Their bodies were joined, and it felt like more than that was joined too.
Then he finally broke the look and eased his hips back, taking care with the condom as he withdrew. He got up and went to the bathroom to throw it away and wash up. When he returned to the bedroom, he was carrying a wet washcloth.
She stared at him as he came to the bed and gently cleaned her up between the legs. He hadn’t come inside her, but she’d been very wet, and she felt sore and messy. She was trembling a little as he stroked her gently with the warm towel, and her throat began to ache.
She had no idea why she was feeling this way, but this felt almost as intense as the sex had between them, like he was with her just as intimately now as he’d been with her before.
When she raised her eyes to his face, his expression was as sober as she felt. “You didn’t bleed much,” he murmured.
“No.” She said that mostly for something to say.
“How do you feel?”
“A little sore,” she admitted. “But good. It was really good.”
He nodded, his face softening. “It was good for me too.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just waited until he returned the washcloth to the bathroom and came back to the bed. He got under the covers and pulled her over next to him. She huddled against him, feeling comforted, secure, strange, proud of herself.
And of him.
“Thank you, Bruce,” she whispered against his shoulder.
“You don’t have to thank me. I... It meant a lot to me. That you trust me this way. No one ever has before.”
“I do trust you. Always.” She pressed a little kiss against his shoulder. “It meant a lot to me too.”
He wrapped both arms around her, and she could feel his body relaxing. Hers was relaxing too.
He was asleep in just a few minutes, and it wasn’t much longer before she was asleep too.
Four
Hannah woke up once at about three in the morning to go to the bathroom and put on some pajamas since it was starting to feel weird to sleep completely naked.
When she crawled back in bed, Bruce mumbled something under his breath and reached out in his sleep to pull her back against him. She had no objections to sleeping snuggled up next to him that way.
In fact, she really liked it.
She fell back to sleep almost immediately, and the next time she was aware of anything was when she felt Bruce pulling away from her and then getting off the bed.
Only half-awake, she rolled toward the middle of the bed and eventually managed to open her eyes. It was almost nine o’clock in the morning. There was a brunch in the middle of the day, but it wasn’t a structured event. Other than that, she didn’t have any wedding activities planned until three, when she would need to go to get her hair and makeup done by the stylists Polly had hired.
She had plenty of time until then, and she didn’t want to get up yet.
Bruce had gone to the bathroom, and she could hear the toilet flush and then the water running. It sounded like the sink and not the shower.
She waited a minute, and then he reappeared in the bedroom. He was completely naked, and she lazily admired his body as he walked over to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of black boxer briefs and pulled them on.
He had a very fine ass—firm and tightly curved. He had great legs too and broad shoulders and a lean, toned abdomen.
She liked everything about his body.
She couldn’t believe she’d gotten to put her hands all over it last night.
He glanced over at the bed just then and saw she was awake and watching him.
“Hi,” she said with a little smile.
“Hey.” He came over to the bed, seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then lowered himself down beside her, sliding under the covers.
She rolled over toward him, although she didn’t reach to touch him.
“How do you feel?” he asked, his expression uncharacteristically quiet.
“Good. A little sore, but I feel good.” She paused. “What about you?”
“I feel pretty good too.”
That seemed to cover their conversational duties, so they just stared at each other for a minute.
She’d assumed that, after she’d have sex, she might feel different overall, but it wouldn’t change things irrevocably with Bruce.
They’d always been friends, and he didn’t take sex seriously, so she’d thought they could fall back into their old habits without too much trouble.
But she didn’t feel like she used to feel, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t a virgin anymore.
It was because she’d had sex with Bruce.
With Bruce.
Everything felt different with him.
She was starting to wonder if she even wanted to just be friends with him now.
If they were just friends, she couldn’t have sex with him again.
And she wanted to have sex with him again.
She wanted to have sex with him a lot.
And she wanted to do even more. She wanted things to feel special between them—different than he was with anyone else.
She wanted him to be hers.
They cared about each other a lot, and they did pretty well in bed together.
Maybe he would want it too.
It didn’t seem impossible.
All this went through her mind as she stared at him, just a few inches of empty space between them since they were sharing a twin bed.
She wanted to find a way to bring up some of what she was thinking—without revealing everything—so she finally said, “I... I really enjoyed last night.”
“I’m glad.” His eyelashes flickered strangely. “I did too. Are you...”
“Am I what?” she prompted when he trailed off.
“Are you happy it happened the way it did?”
“I am. I have no regrets at all. It was perfect.” She was suddenly overwhelmed by affection for him, so she put a hand on his bare chest. “You were perfect.”
She met his eyes and hoped—hoped beyond hope—that he’d follow her lead, introduce the subject of their relationship, maybe even want what she wanted. Surely she’d made it easy for him.
Maybe he wanted to be closer to her too.
He kept watching with that strangely urgent look, but he didn’t say anything.
With a little hitch in her throat, she moved her hand, caressing his chest and moving it lower to his flat, taut belly. She played with the thin strip of dark hair that disappeared into his waistband.
She was sure she felt his body tighten, but after a minute he gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist and moved her hand back to the bed.
She froze, her eyes darting up to meet his.
“I’m glad you don’t have any regrets. I don’t have any regrets either. But we don’t want things to get complicated between us.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A very precise statement that made his view cr
ystal clear.
It hurt. A lot. It felt like a stab to her heart.
But she wasn’t going to be foolish or overreact. This was exactly what she’d planned all along—to have sex with Bruce once and then go back to being friends.
“No,” she murmured, pleased her voice sounded mostly natural. “I guess we don’t.”
“It was good,” he said, very slowly. “But it will be better with someone you love.”
And that hurt even more.
It hurt so much she dropped her eyes so he couldn’t see her expression. She lay very still until she’d processed the pain and the reality of the situation.
She wasn’t going to let him know what she was feeling. He’d be upset that she was upset, and then things would definitely get weird between them.
If she couldn’t have him as more, then at least she would keep him as a friend.
She needed that much.
She couldn’t lose him completely just because she’d once again romanticized something that shouldn’t have been romanticized.
“I... I hope so,” she managed to say.
The words didn’t sound right. In fact, they sounded all wrong. She glanced up but couldn’t read the expression on his face.
She said quickly, “I didn’t mean that to sound like—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I know what you meant. I promise it will be better with someone you love.”
There was something poignant in his tone, in his words, and it made her feel heavy and sad.
But she really had nothing to feel sad about.
She’d done what she’d wanted to do this weekend. She was no longer a virgin, and she’d retained her friendship with Bruce.
Everything was as it was supposed to be.
There was no reason to feel like she’d suffered a loss.
FOR THE REST OF THE day, Hannah tried to act normal. She tried to feel normal.
She thought she put on a decent façade, but her heart kept hurting, even as the hours passed.
She and Bruce went down to the brunch that was scheduled for the wedding attendees. They ate with Madison and her date since Charlie and Simon had evidently slept in and weren’t ready to come down yet. They all acted friendly and casual, laughing and discussing the wedding, the hotel, some of the more flamboyant of the guests.
