“I want to . . .” I rush the words, and he smiles against my neck, his mouth continuing its gentle assault. He doesn’t say anything and instead grabs my thighs, lifting me higher onto his torso as he begins to walk out of the water. When he reaches the bank, he lets me go and climbs out. I whine, certainly inflaming his ego even more—but right now I don’t care. All I know is that I want him, I need him. He reaches out for my hands and pulls me up onto the bank with him.

Unsure what to do, I just stand on the grass, feeling Hardin’s heavy, soaked shirt on my shoulders and thinking he’s too far away.

From where he stands, he dips down a little to meet my eyes. “Do you want it to be here? Or my room?”

I shrug nervously. I don’t want to go to his room, because it’s too far—the drive will give me too much time to overthink what I am about to do.

“Here,” I say and look around. There is no one in sight and I pray that no one will come here.

“Eager?” He smiles and I try to roll my eyes, but it probably looks like a desperate flutter. The heat in my body is slowly burning out the longer Hardin’s touch is not on me.

“Come here,” he says in a low voice and the heat returns.

My feet pad quietly across the soft grass until I’m only inches from Hardin. His hands immediately reach for the hem of the T-shirt and he peels it upward off my body. The way he looks at me alone drives me crazy; my hormones are out of control. My pulse speeds up as he looks my body up and down one more time before taking my hand.

He spreads his shirt on the grass like a blanket of sorts. “Lie down,” he says, guiding me to the ground with him. He lays me on the wet fabric and props himself up on his elbow, lying on his side, facing me on my back. No one has ever seen me this exposed before, and Hardin has seen so many girls, girls much better looking than me. My hands move up to cover my body, but Hardin sits up and grabs both of my wrists and pushes them down to my sides.

“Don’t ever cover up, not for me,” he says and looks into my eyes.

“It’s just . . .” I begin to explain, but he cuts me off.

“No, you will not cover up, you have nothing to be ashamed of, Tess.” Does he mean that? “I mean it, look at you,” he continues, seeming to read my mind.

“You’ve been with so many girls,” I blurt out, and he frowns.

“None like you.” And I know I could take his answer many different ways, but I choose to let it go.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask him, trying to remember the few things I know about sex.

“A condom?” He chuckles. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” he says and I begin to panic. Is this all a game to humiliate me?

“Oh,” is all I say and begin to pull myself up. But he grabs my shoulders and gently pushes me back down. I’m sure I’m flush red, and I don’t want to be exposed to his sarcastic eyes like this.

“Where are you going—” he starts, but then realization hits him. “Oh . . . No, Tess, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you have never done anything . . . like at all, so I am not going to have sex with you.” He stares at me for a moment. “Today,” he adds, and I feel a little bit of the pressure in my chest dissolve.

“There are many other things I want to do to you first.” He climbs on top of me, all of his weight supported on his hands. He is in a push-up position. His wet hair drips water droplets onto my face and I squirm.

“I can’t believe no one has fucked you before,” he whispers and he shifts his body to lie on his side once again. He brings his hand to my neck and trails it down, touching me only with his fingertips, down the valley of my breasts, down my stomach until he stops just above my underwear. We are really doing this, me and Hardin. What is he going to do? Will it hurt? A hundred thoughts race through my mind but disappear as soon as his hand reaches into my panties. I hear him suck a breath through his teeth and he brings his mouth to mine.

His fingers move a little, and it shocks me.

“Does that feel good?” he asks into my mouth.

He’s only rubbing me—how does it feel so good? I nod and he slows his fingers down.

“Does it feel better than when you do it?”

What?

“Does it?” he asks again.

“Wh-what?” I manage, even though I have no control of my body or mind right now.

“When you touch yourself? Does it feel like this?”

I’m not sure what to say, and when I just stare at him, something behind his eyes snaps to. “Wait . . . you’ve never done that, either, have you?” His voice is full of surprise and something else . . . lust? He goes back to kissing me and his fingers keep moving up and down. “You’re so responsive to me, so wet,” he says and I moan. Why are these filthy words so hot when Hardin says them? I feel a gentle pinch and it sends a shock through my whole body.

“What? Was . . . that?” I half ask, half moan. He chuckles and doesn’t answer, but I feel him do it again and my back arches off the grass. His mouth travels down to my neck, then my chest. His tongue dips down under the cup of my bra and his hand massages one of my breasts. I feel a pressure building in my stomach—and it is pure bliss. I pinch my eyes closed and bite down on my lip; my back lifts off the grass once again and my legs begin to shake.

“That’s right, Tessa, come for me,” he says, which makes me feel like I am spiraling out of control. “Look at me, baby,” he purrs.

I open my eyes. The sight of his mouth nipping the skin on my chest sends me over the edge and my vision goes white for a few seconds. “Hardin,” I say, and then repeat, and I can tell by the way his cheeks flush that he loves it. Slowly, he pulls his hand out and rests it on my stomach as I try to return my breathing to normal. My body had never felt so energized before, and it’s never felt so relaxed as this now.