Her jaw is slack, like she can’t believe I didn’t fuck her—not the way she wanted me to.Two can play this game, doll. You’re in for it now. But I won’t give in. I won’t accept that last piece of her virginity even if she begs me to because I would never do that to someone vulnerable after a recent breakup.
Her heart is at stake here.
I won’t let her regret me.
Because shewillinevitably regret me.
I’m not good enough for her. And I know I could never be the type of man worthy of her. She’ll thank me one day when she finds him. Even if the mere thought of it sours my stomach, for some reason.
My heart rate is in the process of calming down as I take deep breaths when she gets that look in her eye, the one she gets when she’s thinking.
She smiles up at me, and it’s the last fucking thing I think she’ll do.
Without breaking eye contact, she lowers an index finger to her stomach, traces a circle, dipping the pad of her finger in the thick liquid, then brings it to her mouth. Her eyes draw closed as she savors it. When she looks back up at me, I can only shake my head. Fucking hell.
I jump off her, pull my sweats on, and kill the music. I should go grab a washcloth and help her clean up. I should . . . so many things. Instead, I fake my anger. “Last fucking warning. Keep the fucking music down,” I hiss and leave her in her room, drenched in my cum.
* * *
When I wakeup in the morning and remember it wasn’t a dream, my stomach grows hot. The way I treated her . . . remorse slices through my chest. I hope she’ll forgive me for my behavior—but even I know I don’t deserve it. I didn’t succumb to fucking her like she wanted, but does it matter after everything else Ididwith her body? I was so rough with her. The things I said . . . the things I did. She has no experience, and the first taste of it I gave her was degrading and rough. I wince as I recall every single second of last night.
She’s reading my copy ofPlease Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk,Pixel curled by her feet on the couch when I find her. She must not have work today. “Lola, can we talk?”
She looks up from her book and nods. After setting it down next to her, she asks, “What’s up?”
Nothing seems out of the ordinary. She’s acting like she does every day. Like nothing happened last night. Did I imagine it, or was it a dream? No. It was too visceral to be a dream.
“Um, are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, why?”
Is she kidding me? “Lola, the way I treated you . . .”
“Yeah?” She looks confused.
I rub my temples. “I’m sorry,” I breathe out.
Her face twists a little. “For what?”
“Are you kidding?”
She shakes her head. “No. I’m fine, Karl. Last night was fun.” She smiles. “We should do it again soon.”
What the fuck? “Lo—I didn’t want your first sexual experience to be—”
“Why do you think that was my first sexual experience?” she interrupts.
“What?” I ask. Did she lie to me before? Is she not a virgin? Not that it matters, but why lie? “I thought you said—”
She laughs, and I blink at her. She’s insane. I can’t believe I invited a total psycho to move in with me. “I said I was a virgin,” she explains. “Not a nun. I’ve obviously doneotherthings.”
My mouth falls open with the shock of her statement.
“What?” Her eyes roll as she crosses her arms in front of her. “Let me guess? You thought because I haven’t had intercourse, I’m some sweet, demure, innocent little thing. Inexperienced and dumb?”
“Uhhh . . . I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that, but—”
“Karl, I’ve done things. Many things. I had a serious boyfriend for four years. Of course, we had a sex life—of sorts.”