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He felt like hers.
Under him, she heaved a sigh, lips parted, eyes closed. The tension in her body eased, except the occasional pulse of her pretty pussy around his softening cock.
She blinked up at him, clearly stunned. “Oh…my goodness.”
That was her version of holy fuck, and it made him laugh. He slicked back the damp hair clinging to her forehead and cheeks. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“I had no idea…”
Cutter must be a real deadbeat in the sack. No wonder she was here instead of with him. Keeping her might be even easier than he’d imagined. With chemistry like theirs, it would be years—hell, maybe a lifetime—before they got enough of each other.
“How do you feel, pretty girl?”
The smile that curled up her pouty mouth was almost self-conscious. It matched her still-flaming cheeks. “Happy. Like I’m floating. Best feeling ever.”
One-Mile laughed, stupidly thrilled. Whether she knew it or not, she’d just admitted that was the best sex of her life. The fact that she loved being with him and wanted more only made him feel on top of the world. This was Christmas in August—but better. Unless he missed his guess, it wouldn’t take much to make sure he could unwrap her every single day.
“It is.” He laid a soft kiss on her lips. “It was amazing.”
“Yeah…”
Her voice still had that dreamy quality when he reluctantly withdrew. She winced, biting her lip and clearly holding in a cry. Shit. Had he somehow hurt her?
“What’s wrong?”
But the words had no more left his mouth when he sat back on his knees and looked down.
Blood.
One-Mile already knew from having his mouth all over Brea that she wasn’t in the middle of her period.
The moment he’d pushed his way into her slammed back through his brain. The tightness. The feeling of something giving way. Her admission that it had hurt.
The obvious occurred to him, but…how was that possible? From his research, it seemed she’d been Cutter’s girlfriend for years—at least based on her barely used social media accounts. The asshole had taken her to her prom. He’d held her hand and posed for a dozen pictures during her high school graduation. He’d been her first haircut when she’d finished beauty school.
If she had been anyone else, One-Mile would have dismissed even the small chance that she’d been innocent when he’d carried her up to his bedroom less than an hour ago. But this was Brea. She was a preacher’s daughter. She was a good girl to the core.
Oh, shit. Maybe Cutter hadn’t been cheating on her the night before her father’s heart attack as much as getting some relief because he really was a Boy Scout who had agreed to wait for Brea until marriage.
At least that might have been his plan until One-Mile had barged in and ruined her.
Oh, holy fuck.
“Brea…” He forced her to meet his stare. “You promised me the truth tonight, so be fucking honest. Were you a virgin?”
Chapter Six
Brea gaped. She crossed protective arms over her breasts. Self-preservation warred with her innate desire to be honest. But the way Pierce kept staring tied her tongue. Thinking seemed impossible. She wished she could crawl inside her skin and hide.
He’d figured out she was a virgin. Was he mad? Shocked? Dismayed? Did he feel guilty? Responsible? Disgusted?
Those possibilities had her eyes stinging with mortifying tears. Why couldn’t she stop feeling so horribly vulnerable?
Brea bolted up from the bed and scanned the room for her clothes. “I already answered your questions.”
“I have more.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
Pierce stood, utterly naked and unconcerned, and prowled toward her with narrowed eyes. “So…what? Now that we’ve fucked, you’re done being honest?”
She flinched at his question. “Please. That’s enough.”
“If you’re measuring honesty, it’s never going to be ‘enough.’”
Finally, she found her panties and snatched them up, doing her best not to stare at his big, naked body. “I meant that I don’t appreciate your language and I don’t owe you my personal information.”
“As the guy who unwittingly took your virginity, I disagree. By the way, isn’t lying a sin?”
“Yes.” Technically, so was having sex outside of wedlock. She would have a lot to repent for after tonight. “But I was merely asking you to drop the subject and respect my privacy.”
He scoffed. “Since I’ve had my dick deep inside you, I think we’re past privacy.”
Brea managed to step into her underwear, but it didn’t make her feel less naked under his black stare. “I’m leaving.”
Her dratted bra was nowhere to be found. Where the devil had he tossed it?
A blip of a memory flashed through her brain of Pierce stripping it off of her downstairs…just before she’d begged him to touch her breasts. What had she been thinking?
Nothing—beyond him easing the unrelenting ache inside her.
“Stay.” He gripped her arm. “We need to talk.”
