TWISTED FATE (Twisted Path Book 1)

Chapter 32

Shane

"You, Shane. I want to do this with you." Her words hit me like a gut punch, stealing the breath from my lungs.

Though my mind is still racing to catch up, my body reacts instantly. Heat surges through my veins, a wildfire of anticipation sweeping through me. But even as badly as I want this, even as she watches me with wide, expectant eyes, I don't move.

She has no idea how much I want this too—how long I've wanted her, from the moment I first laid eyes on her in Mr. Blair's office. Since then I've imagined this, dreamed about it, but hearing her say it out loud, knowing she's offering herself to me, sends a primal jolt through me. Possessiveness. Reverence. A fierce, aching need to protect her from the world, from everything, even from myself.

I tighten my grip on her hands, brushing my thumbs over her knuckles, searching her face for any trace of doubt. The soft, twinkling glow of the Christmas tree casts shifting patterns of light over her delicate features, illuminating the raw honesty in her hazel eyes. She's nervous, but the determination is unmistakable. She wants this.

Fuck... she wants me.

"Becca..." My voice comes out rough, uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answers without hesitation, her fingers tightening around mine as if she can sense my hesitation and is silently imploring me to let her prove it.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to breathe. "We've never talked about it." I look deep into her eyes, pausing to find the right words. "Have you... done this before?"

Her cheeks flush crimson, but she doesn't look away. "No," she whispers.

I swear to fucking Christ, my heart stops. A fresh wave of desperate need slams into me, and my chest tightens, my heart pounding in my ears. I stare at her, trying to process the enormity of what she's telling me.

"You're a virgin?" The words escape me, sounding more like a breath than a question, and for a moment, I don't know whether I'm terrified or electrified by the thought.

She nods, her fingers twisting around mine like she's afraid the revelation will make me pull away. She couldn't be more wrong. If anything, it only makes me want to never let her go. "I want my first time to be with you."

Jesus Christ.

My heart stumbles in my chest, and my stomach tightens into a knot of pleasure so intense it makes my dick ache with need. She has no idea what she's doing to me, no fucking clue how much this means. That she would trust me with something this important, that she would choose me, when she could have given this gift to anyone else, makes me want to worship her. She could have kept this part of herself guarded a little longer, but she's offering it to me, and it feels like the most precious thing in the world.

"Becca," I rasp, shaking my head as my hands cup her face, my thumbs brushing along her soft cheekbones. "This isn't something we can take back. I don't ever want you to regret it."

"I won't," she whispers, her voice steady, unwavering. "I know what I want. You. I want to do this with you." She repeats it, and to my utter shock, she climbs onto my lap, her legs straddling me.

God, she's killing me.

This close, with her movements so confident, so sure, and the sincerity in her eyes—it's like my body is no longer under my control. I'm done. Helpless. How could I deny her?

But what she doesn't understand—what she can't possibly understand—is how deeply this changes everything for me. How it makes me want to protect her that much more. As badly as I want this, as badly as I want her, I'm determined to make damn sure she never looks back on this moment with anything but certainty.