“Wallet,” Tony said, pointing to his jeans. “Left back pocket,” he instructed as Summer leaned off of him to grab the condom. While she was up he slowly slid off his boxers and tossed them at Summer with a smirk.
One quick hand flashed up and batted the fabric aside, even as she tossed the foil-wrapped package at him. Her hair swirled around her hips as she moved, climbing back on to the couch to settle next to Tony. A little fear informed the rate of her pulse — not of what she was going to do, but of what it would be like. Would he be disappointed in her? She bent her head, kissing his shoulder, watching his clever hands.
Tony opened his eyes and looked up to her, worried that he had done something to make her uncomfortable. “Summer? What’s wrong? Are you okay? What’d I do?”
“It’s not you. It’s not you.” She shook her head, eyes still closed. “I’m afraid of pain. I’m afraid this is going to turn out to be an awful joke, like Carrie. I’m afraid I’m making a fool of myself, loving you.”