“Condom,” he murmurs, watching himself push inside the slightest fraction of an inch. My body begs for him to keep going, but he stops. “I don’t have any,” I admit. This wasn’t exactly planned. “I’m still on birth control, but…” Nash leans on one forearm and hovers over me, his expression sobering. His fingertip ghosts across my cheek, brushing my lips. There are a million things written across his face: fondness and admiration, desire and lust, even a hint of protectiveness. “I’ve never done that with anyone else, Vi. And I haven’t been with anyone since we got tested during our physicals at
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