I squeeze his knee and walk toward my bedroom. Paul calls my name and jerks a thumb toward the drawer in the kitchen with all the condoms in it. I grin and go get a handful.

“Never could say that boy isn’t prepared,” Matt says playfully. He gives me a thumbs-up and a stupid grin.

I open the bedroom door, but Reagan has turned off the light. There’s a dim glow from the lamp beside my bed, but that’s all. Reagan lies on her belly her arms folded under the pillow. Her tattoo is shiny and a little puffy. I still can’t believe she got a tattoo. Her dad is going to kill me. And her. Her back is naked, and I know she’s in her birthday suit beneath the sheets.

I walk to my side of the bed and lay the condoms on the corner of the bedside table. Then I slide between the sheets and lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling. She doesn’t move, and I think she might be asleep already. But when I roll toward her to pull her into my arms, she comes to me, all soft, naked skin and wonderfully full girl parts. Her naked br**sts press against my chest, and her ni**les jut against my skin. She nuzzles her face in my shoulder.

“Hey, Pete,” she says.

“Yeah,” I grunt. I can’t put two words together. Not right now.

“If you don’t want me because of what happened, you should tell me now.” She’s quiet, but her words are strong. The problem is that I don’t know what she’s referring to. Is she referring to Maggie? Or to the assault?

The only thing I can do is be honest. “I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I say. “And I kind of feel like I might be.”

She chuckles against my chest. “I’d say that’s actually in reverse. I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.” She kisses my chest. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

I brush her hair back from her forehead and place a kiss there. “Okay,” I breathe. Thank God. Because I’m a chickenshit. A big, fat, old, worthless chickenshit.

She rolls to her back and stares up at the ceiling. I can see her profile in the dark. I grab her hand tightly in mine. I’m kind of sweating, so I don’t pull her back against me.

Her breathing evens out, and I can relax a little. I settle deeper into the pillow. But fifteen minutes later, I’m still lying there staring up into the darkness. Her naked body is less than half an inch from mine.

Her hand moves, and she gently extracts her fingers from mine. I let her because I kind of want her to think I’m asleep.

I hear a tiny exhale from her mouth and cut my eyes toward her without moving my head. She pushes the covers down below her br**sts, and I see her fingertips start to play around her chest. She traces circles around her ni**les, and then she gently pinches them. I hear her intake of breath, and if I wasn’t hard enough from just having her lying next to me, I am now.

Her hand slides down her belly, and I imagine she’s reaching into her curls. She’s probably all slick and wet and hot and needy. Her knees lift, and she begins to rub herself. Her breath hitches again. I really should tell her I’m not asleep, but I can’t. I don’t want to mess this up for her.

“Oh, Pete,” she breathes.

I can’t take anymore. I just can’t. “Reagan,” I say. My voice sounds like a cannon-shot in the darkness.

She freezes. “Pete,” she says. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her hand is still down between her legs. She stops moving it and brings it up to lie on her belly. “How embarrassing,” she whispers. And her voice cracks.

“Reagan, come here,” I say.

She leans up an elbow and says, “Where?”

“If it’s all right with you, I’m going to lie really still and you’re going to come over here with me.”

She hops up onto her knees and lays a hand on my chest. “Like this?” she says.

I take her hand in mine and lift it to my lips. “Reagan, I’m scared,” I admit.

“So am I,” she says.

“I want to be inside you so f**king bad it hurts,” I admit. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly.

Reagan’s fingertips hook in the waistband of my boxers, and I feel her lift them over my dick. I raise my hips so she can slide them down and off. Now I’m as naked as she is. “Can I?” she asks. “Can I try some things?”

“You can try anything you want,” I say. I lift my arms up so my palms are behind my head. If I touch her, I’m going to have to roll her over and slide inside her. And I know this needs to be done at her pace.

Her fingers wrap around my dick, and she groans. “I’m not sure this can fit inside me,” she warns.

“It’ll fit,” I say.

Reagan reaches across me, and I realize she’s reaching for a condom. I’m not ready for that yet, so I catch her while she’s on top of me with my hands around her waist. I lift her so that her br**sts are in my face, and I kiss her left nipple until it’s tight and reaching for my mouth. She whimpers and lets me, and then I move to the other breast. I give it the same lavish attention, and she quivers in my arms.

“Pete,” Reagan cries.

I dip my hand between her legs to see how wet she is. I can’t help it. She’s f**king soaked. She’s nearly dripping. “God, Reagan,” I say. I trail my finger across her clit.

I hear a condom wrapper as she tears it, and then I feel it press against the head of my dick. She wants to put it on me. Fuck yeah! But I grab her hand. “Reagan,” I warn.