Losing It: A Collection of VCards by Julia Crane, Stacey Wallace Benefiel, Alexia Purdy, Ednah Walters, Bethany Lopez, A. O. Peart, Nikki Jefford, Tish Thawer, Amy Miles, Heather Hildenbrand, Kristina Circelli, S. M. Boyce, K. A. Last, Melissa Haag, S. T. Bende, Tamara Rose Blodgett, Helen Boswell, Julie Prestsater, Misty Provencher, Ginger Scott, Milda Harris, M. R. Polish Read Free Book Online

fingertips lightly over my arms. “You’re not supposed to regret doing things until after they’ve passed.”
    “Shut up,” I whisper, climbing off of him.
    “Hey, I didn’t mean to make you sto—”
    I push the scrub pants down over my hips and let them fall to the floor.
    “Oh.”
    A smile plays on my lips, giving me the courage to take off my bra and underwear. I’ve never been completely naked in front of a guy. I quickly check to see if Wyatt is grossed out by all of the soft, red cuts I’ve marked my body with, but he’s not even looking at me. Wyatt is kicking out of his pants and boxers and getting his legs all caught up.
    “Stupid pants,” he mutters, finally freeing himself. “Why are they even a thing? They serve zero point.”
    Then he does look at me.
    And he sees me, really.
    I resist the urge to cross my arms over my chest or make a sarcastic comment.
    “You’re beautiful,” he says.
    “So are you.” I kneel on the floor.
    “Sure you don’t mean ruggedly handsome?” he asks, grinning.
    “I’m sure.” I take his hand in mine. Time for my least favorite part of this whole exchange, but it has to be done, especially because I haven’t always been diligent about it before. “So, we need to use protection…” I start.
    Wyatt reaches above his head, underneath Elle’s bed and pulls out a condom. “Of course.” He puts it on without any missteps, which makes me think he’s been practicing. My heart swells.
    I’m such a weirdo.
    I pounce on him, smashing my mouth into his at the same time I’m climbing back on top of him.
    Wyatt’s hands find my hips and I widen my legs. He lowers me down and I take him inside of me, both of us gasping a little at first contact.
    “This isn’t going to last very long,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes closed.
    “It’s chido,” I say, rolling my hips and pushing him in deeper. I gauge his expression, waiting for his face to sort of go blank and his body to give up to me. “You’re … perfect.”
    My words do the trick. Wyatt opens his eyes and stares up at me, vulnerable. “I…” he says, before grasping my hips firmly and holding me steady. He thrusts into me one last time and then we both stop moving for a second, letting the moment be.
    We do each other a favor and don’t say “I love you.” Because we don’t, not yet anyway. Even the fact that I’m considering the possibility … it’s new. He makes me feel new.
    I execute a not so graceful dismount, my legs are shaky as hell, and lay down next to him.
    Wyatt grabs the duvet from my bed and drags it over us.
    “Do you feel any different?” I say, resting my head on his chest, snuggled up next to him.
    He turns his face toward me and kisses my forehead. “I feel … bueno. Happy.” He chuckles. “Included? Which is … weird, but whatever.”
    “No, I get it. It’s a rite of passage. Or it should be, at least.” I lightly trace the stubble along his jaw with my fingertip. “I was happy to, uh, go through that with you?” Now I’m the dork who’s chuckling, but then I realize something. “It was my first time being someone else’s first time.”
    “So what you’re saying is,” Wyatt drawls and pulls me closer, “it’s refreshing to get back to basics?”
    I slap him on the chest and then roll him on top of me. “Keep it simple, stupid.”
    Wyatt catches on quick.
     
    ***

 
     
    ABOUT THE AUTHOR
     
    Stacey Wallace Benefiel is the author of the Zellie Wells trilogy , the Penny Black trilogy , the Day of Sacrifice Omnibus , the Open Door Love Story series , and multiple short stories. She sometimes goes by S.W. Benefiel or Reina Stowe, but knows she’s not foolin’ anybody.
    Stacey lives in an orange house in Beaverton, OR with her two young kids who have old people names. When she’s not writing, thinking about writing, or driving the kids around, Stacey is most likely volunteering to do all the things or running to relieve the stress of volunteering to do