Page 30 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
I just had sex.With Briar Hawthorne.
Briar’s mouth tantalized me as it brushed along my neck. “How do you feel now?”
My cheeks flamed, and I giggled into my hand. “I’m good.” Although I was a bit achy, my body craving a release it hadn’t found. I thought about asking Briar to finish what he’d started, but I couldn’t form the words. “How about you?”
Chuckling, Briar tightened his hold on me. “Incredible.”
“Are you still drunk?”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “You?”
“Not as much now.” Penetration had sobered me up.
He kissed the place where my ear met my jaw, waking frissons throughout my body. I gripped the mattress to steady myself, rocking in a storm of unexplored pleasure.
Having no idea what he’d just done to me, Briar yawned. “I’m also bone tired.” He groaned, resting his head on the pillow behind mine. “Are you ready for sleep?”
“Um—yeah.” My body rioted at my betrayal. “I guess.”
He squeezed me close. “Good night, Amy.”
I wriggled back against his body, content to snuggle with him for the rest of the night. Intimacy would mask any physical dissatisfaction. “Good night, Briar.”
During sleep, Briar withdrew from me, yanking the comforter partially off me. Cold danced down my spine without his heat, and I dreamt of a bed full of throw pillows.
Mysecondtimewasbetter than my first. I adjusted to Briar faster, and I did enjoy myself.
Sort of.
Beyond the awkwardness of getting to know each other’s bodies, we also lacked the one integral thing prevalent between all new lovers in my favorite romances. Passion. But we could still develop some.
I refused to believe its existence was a myth.
Morning birds twittered outside as I lay against Briar’s body, my head on his hairless chest, a warm slickness between my thighs.
“Do you think anyone will notice we’re gone?” I feared my aunt or uncle would come looking for me and find me like this—ruffled, naked, and in bed with Briar.
“Maybe, but I doubt they’ll worry about us.” He played with a tuft from my bedraggled braid. “They know we’ll turn up when we’re ready.”
I blinked at him. “You don’t think—” I felt myself blush. “They wouldn’t guess—”
“They might.” He grazed my cheek. “Would it be so bad if they knew?”
“I just don’t want them getting all excited for a grand-niece or nephew.” I bit my lip, knowing they’d heap blessings upon me—then demand I drop out of college.
“Why not?” Briar smiled. “It’s a possibility.”
I just stared at him, his leisurely acceptance of said possibility quite unexpected.
The night before, my inebriation and rising hormones had exiled contraceptives to an afterthought. That morning, things had happened while I was drowsy, hardly sentient. Yes, Dananns were all about the blessings of fertility, but in my mind, we’d been unforgivably irresponsible. Twice. So, I knew what I was doing that day. As soon as I could, I’d hitch a ride to the nearest pharmacy and buy myself some emergency contraception.
On Monday, I’d make an appointment with a gynecologist. Before Briar and I did any more canoodling, we needed a birth control plan.
Maybe Briar wasn’t as casual in his Danann beliefs as I was—since he held stock in superstitions like bad luck trees—but I’d still assumed his views about children were as contemporary as mine. Kids would be great—when we were older. Of course, upon seeing the inexplicable hope in the frat boy’s eyes, I knew it would be a touchy subject.
Which I settled on broachingafterI’d procured and taken the morning-after pill. Because I wasnotgetting pregnant at 20, no matter his views on the matter.
That my actions would get me shunned by the whole Danann community if anyone found out barely crossed my mind.
