Page 113 of The Comeback Summer

When he slips off his shirt, I step back, taking him in, standing before me, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Lightning strikes outside, illuminating the room and giving me a glimpse of his body. The man is a sight to behold. His legs are skinny, but his chest is broad and covered with a smattering of hair. He’s got a hint of a belly, and it’s that little imperfection that gives me the confidence to step closer and let him see me.

When his hand reaches for the hem of my shirt, I flinch and suck in my stomach. Adam stops, sensing my hesitation, his eyes searching my face. I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is okay, that I’m okay and this is exactly where I want to be. That there’s nothing to be afraid of.

The room illuminates again with another strike of lightning, and the skies seem to open, rain pouring down. The rhythmic pounding against the window helps me relax as Adam slips my shirt over my head. His eyes grow wide in appreciation as he takes in my body, my breasts, my nipples straining against the lacy fabric of the new bra I went and got fitted for last week. As if I knew—or hoped—I would end up right here.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Adam murmurs. His hands reach toward me, and the way he’s looking at me like I’m a hard-earned prize, I almost believe him.

Feeling brazen, I reach behind me and unclasp my bra to help him along. His eyes darken with intensity as he sinks down, teasing my left breast with his hand, slipping the right one into his mouth. He switches sides, and I stumble toward the bed as my legs turn to jelly.

Leaning back on the bed, I pull him down with me so we’re lying on our sides. His skin is soft and warm against mine; his hands feel rough as they travel down my body. I kiss him, thanking him for the way he makes me feel, like I’m worthy of his adoration.

We stay there for what feels like an eternity, exploring and tasting each other, until I’m light-headed and shaky, desperate to feel him inside me. I have a feeling this will be different from all the other times I’ve done this. Not that there’ve been that many.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask.

He nods and exhales a slow breath, as if he, too, can’t believe we’re here, about to do this. It only takes a moment for him to get a condom out of his nightstand drawer, but that’s all it takes for my mind to go somewhere else.

Back to college, before my first time. I knew he was the wrong guy, but I wasn’t patient enough to wait for the right one. I was anxious to get it over with, to lose the burden of the “virgin” label. I thought it would make me feel more like a woman, but it only left me feeling empty and used. Unloved and unlovable.

“Hey,” Adam says, brushing his lips against mine as his hand slides down my hip, lowering my skirt. “Where’d you go?”

“I’m here,” I say, but in my mind, I slip into my imagination, into the skin of someone else, an amalgamation of all myfavorite romance heroines, full of confidence, eyes on the future and the pages ahead.

“Stay with me,” Adam says. His kiss relaxes me, and when I feel him start to pull down my underwear, I don’t tense up, and when he looks up at me, I smile and nod, urging him on.

I’ve never felt more naked, not just physically, but emotionally. The guys I’ve slept with in the past made me feel like I was the means to an end. They wanted to have sex, and I was there and willing.

But here with Adam, the way he keeps checking in on me... it feels like he wants to get closer to me. To connect with me. And I want that, too.

He presses me down against the bed, coming over me until we’re chest to chest, limbs intertwined, his hardness pressing against my stomach.

“Hi,” he says, gazing down at me with lusty eyes.

“Hi,” I say, breaking into a goofy grin, ruining whatever seductive vibe this moment would hold if it were in a romance novel. But it’s better than that, because it’s real life.

Another flash of lightning, reflecting in Adam’s eyes, crackling with desire.

“I’m glad you came back,” he says, dipping his head to give me a kiss. He gently pushes my legs open, taking his length and running it up and down, teasing me, warming me up. When I can’t take it anymore and he’s slick with my desire, I reach down and guide him where I want him to be.

Adam keeps his eyes locked on mine as he pushes inside me, and I gasp at the fullness of him, stretching me, filling me. His face contorts in pleasure and he moans my name, and I melt. My name has never sounded so beautiful; I’ve never feltso beautiful. I imagine myself the way he sees me, and it’s like I’m that heroine again. Not myself, but not not-myself, either.

I wrap my legs around him, arching up as he pulls back, matching him stroke for stroke. My eyes drift closed, and somehow I’m both inside and outside my body. Time slows and bends and stretches, and I have no sense of anything other this his body and mine.

“Libby,” Adam says.

I open my eyes. His face is inches above mine, his eyes looking not just at me, but through me. Through all the layers I put on for the outside world, shattering my protective shield. He sees me, and he still wants me.

I tilt my head up, my mouth hungry for his. He changes his angle, then reaches down where our bodies meet, and uses his fingers to apply pressure in just the right spot. He’s watching me closely, paying attention to every gasp and movement I make, studying me like I’m the only thing that matters. Like we’re the only two people on the earth and nothing exists but us and this moment with the summer storm raging outside.

Lightning shatters the sky, followed by a roll of thunder, so close it makes the walls shudder, and I come undone. Warmth floods my body, lifting me up and away, soaring and tumbling through space.

He’s right there with me, tensing before he shudders and collapses onto me. He kisses my neck as I relax, safe and warm in his arms.

He sighs, a satisfied sound. “You... are incredible,” he says.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I say, brushing his curls away from his forehead.

When he slides out, I feel empty again. He turns away totake off the condom, and those few moments are enough for me to get in my head again:What happens next? Does he want me to stay? Now that it’s over, am I supposed to leave?

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