Page 206 of A Taste of Vanilla

He’s still kissing me.

And I decide I should panic later.

Right now, his mouth is on mine, and my hands are on his skin, and his body is warm and hard beneath me.

I shift in his lap, and his breath catches.

His hand slides along my waist, then lower over my hip and down the front of my pants where he slowly circles my clit.

I moan as my body answers with heat, and then, without warning, pain.

It’s not a warning cramp or a gentle pull. It’s a sharp, deep twist low in my pelvis that steals my breath.

I freeze, and Warren stops immediately.

His hand lifts away from my body. “Halston?”

I try to breathe, but I can’t.

Another pain follows, worse than the first, hot and sickening and so deep that I fold forward into his chest before I can stop myself.

Tears prick at my eyes.

Immediate tears.

“No,” I whisper.

Warren is completely still under me.

He doesn’t keep touching me. Doesn’t tell me that the pain is normal. Doesn’t sayI just really need this right now.

Doesn’t ask questions or yell at me demanding answers.

He sits there, his hands on my back, not moving.

He waits.

I cry harder.

I was warm and wanted and almost brave, and my body has chosen this exact moment to remind me that it gets a vote too.

“Pain?” he asks quietly.

One word.

I nod, pressing a hand low against my abdomen.

“Do you want to get off my lap?” he asks as he kisses my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yes.”

“Can I lift you?”

Another tear slips down my cheek and onto his chest. “Yes.”

He moves carefully. One hand is behind my back, the otherunder my thigh. He lifts me slowly, watching my face to make sure I’m okay. Like I’m breakable, without making me feel broken. He sets me on the mattress, away from his body, and immediately pulls back.

I curl onto my side.

The pain rolls through me again, and I push my head into my pillow. I make a sound that I hate.