I gave him a moment, hating the separation but familiar enough with Ren to know he followed rules—especially ones that protected me—religiously.
He stood upright, and the river went from lapping around his shoulders to barely covering his proud erection. “Let’s get inside the tent. I’m assuming you have more condoms with you?”
I stood on lust-wobbly legs as Ren swept me into his arms. His eyes softened with regret. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“You didn’t.”
Kissing me softly, he whispered, “I’m just so terrified of hurting you. It would kill me, Little Ribbon. If I ever did anything to—”
“You won’t.” I wrapped my arms around him, sucking in a breath as he swung me into a horizontal position like a groom would his bride and carried me from the river. “You never will.”
Pressing his nose to mine, he chuckled. “You always manage to bring out the best and worst in me. One moment, I don’t care about anything but fucking you; the next, I want to lay you on a throne and pledge everything I can.” He carried me toward our bags with hardened feet used to walking on twigs and prickly things. “Being in love really is a disease.”
Placing me reverently by my backpack, I got my balance by clutching his biceps. “Love’s a disease?”
He nodded, brushing aside my wet hair and palming off excess droplets from the river. Even brusque, having his hands on me was pure cashmere and desire. “When I’m with you, I have the cure. I feel stronger, happier, invincible. But when I’m not, I feel as if life itself could delete me, and I wouldn’t care.”
The intensity of such a strong moment infected both of us, and our eyes locked with oaths and vows. “I’m never leaving you, Ren.”
“And I’m never walking away again. No matter what happens. We stick together.”
Our lips sought each other, sealing our promises with silky sweeps of our tongues.
The heat of our skin helped dry us a little, but we didn’t care about the rest as we pulled apart and I bent to unzip my bag. The sound of the zipper in the gloom made Ren wince, his senses on high alert.
Dropping my hand into the dark rucksack, I rummaged for a second before pulling out a box.
A familiar box with a familiar note stuck to the top.
“What the—” Ren snatched it from my hands. Squinting to read in the final threads of light, his basic handwriting decorated the top: If you’re going to do things outside my control, please be safe. Use these. At all times. “Is-is this the box I bought you?”
My cheeks glowed pink. “Yes.”
“But…how?”
I could guess what ran through his head. How many condoms had I used? Had I replenished the box? Had I used David’s instead? I didn’t want him having those thoughts. He’d end up on the moral seesaw again, wondering if he was wrong in taking me. We were in such a good place and I refused to let anything from our past ruin that.
My heart hiccupped as Ren battled beneath his mental struggle, and I stole the box back, cracking it open to reveal a neat regimented row of foil wrapped condoms glinting in the gloom. There were too many to count quickly or guess how many were missing. But Ren wouldn’t need to guess. I would tell him.
“I only used two. Well, three, counting last night.” I kept my fingers locked tight on the box.
“What?” He coughed. “How is that possible? I saw you kissing Tom at the Halloween party. I’d seen how passionate you were. I lived with you, for God’s sake. As you slowly awakened to the idea of sex, it drove me mad every time you went out with your friends, not knowing what you were doing.”
My insides smarted for how much I’d hurt him over the years, but I stayed brave because I owed him this. I owed him an apology. “You’re forgetting that most of the time, I was in agony over you, Ren. I only used two; you have my word. One the night I lost my virginity, and one the night of my eighteenth birthday.” I didn’t want images of me sleeping with others in his head, but he needed to know the truth—that I wasn’t some harlot, even if I made him think I was.
I never looked away from him. He deserved to be able to read the honesty on my face, not just hear it. “Yes, I lost my virginity because I was messed up over you. But I chose not to have sex again because I wasn’t emotionally ready. I didn’t sleep with anyone until that second time on my birthday. And I didn’t do it because I wanted him. I did it because I wanted you.”
He sucked in a noisy breath.