Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80932 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
A thought strikes, horrifying me. “Were you a virgin?”
“God no,” she exclaims, equally in horror. “But… I’m just not that experienced. And, well, when you… um… went down… Um. What I mean is—”
“I get it, Regan,” I murmur, moving closer to her. She tries to lower her gaze, but my fingers go under her chin and I force her to look at me. “Just how much experience have you had?”
She shrugs, but doesn’t say a word.
“Regan… you and I did some really intimate things last night. I think we’re beyond the shy shit, okay?”
“One guy,” she blurts out. “My first and only boyfriend. We met our freshman year in college, and we were eighteen when we first had sex. Neither of us knew what we were doing apparently. And then, well… after I got sick, I mean… who had time for boyfriends or sex?”
“Did he leave you because you were sick?” The anger in my tone comes across with bite.
“Yes, but that’s in the past and I don’t dwell on it, so don’t go thinking I need some therapy for it. The whole point to this is it’s been a while since I had sex, my boyfriend never put his mouth between my legs, and I’m not even sure if there was something else I should have been doing last night to make it good for you.”
My entire world about collapses in on itself as my chest constricts over the uncertainty in her voice. This beautiful creature who has struggled against so much should never have a single doubt. “Regan,” I murmur as I scoop her up and crawl onto the bed with her. I settle her on my lap, then twist her so she can see me. “You were perfect last night. I just hope I didn’t freak you out.”
“No, not at all. Okay… maybe a little. I mean… it was, well… I don’t know what it was.”
“Did you like it?” I ask, and her cheeks flame red again.
“Yes,” she whispers, dropping her gaze.
“Regan,” I say to get her attention. When she raises her head, I force her to confront it. “Tell me you liked my mouth between your legs last night. Tell me you liked how it felt and the way it made you come.”
I get a groan filled with embarrassment in response. She flops forward, then presses her face into my neck. “I said I liked it. That should be good enough.”
My arms go around her naturally, and it would be the perfect time to chuckle in amusement over her lack of experience and shyness. But the truth is… it’s now causing me to have regrets.
I brought Regan into my home—my life—with the sole intention of helping her get the medical treatment she needed to save her life. The marriage was simply a means to an end, and it conveyed to me no special privileges. I was weak last night, and I took something I wanted.
A woman who doesn’t have much experience at all, and certainly shouldn’t be cast under the shadow of a man who isn’t looking for anything serious but sure does like a whole lot of dirty fucking. Regan is way too good for a man like me. In a way, I feel like I’ve just tainted her. She’s nowhere near ready for someone like me.
And I really don’t think I’m ready for someone like her.
I choose my words very carefully. “Look… last night, we both succumbed to loosened inhibitions because of the alcohol, and the last thing in the world I want is for you to be in an environment where things are confusing or awkward for you. Our primary responsibility has got to be your health. I shouldn’t have ever gone there with you last night, Regan, and I’m really sorry.”
They’re the wrong fucking words. I can see it on her face. Pure rejection and hurt reflected in her eyes, even though she puts on an overly bright smile. “Yes. Of course, you’re right. I think we got a little crazy last night. We’re adults so let’s just chalk it up to ‘oops, probably shouldn’t do that again’. Right?”
“Right,” I drawl with a fair amount of uncertainty, torn between wanting to reassure her this has nothing to do with her and needing to be strong enough to put a break between us.
Regan scrambles off my lap, rolls off the bed, and starts grabbing her clothes as she talks. “Last night was great and all. Thank you for having patience with me. But we both have more important things to focus on. You’ve got hockey, and Tacker is really important. I’ve got to concentrate on my illness, and I want to get out and find a job. If I’m going to be here a while, I need to assimilate. So yeah—”
And here, she pauses to study me, holding her pile of clothing in front of her chest. Her chin lifts in confidence. “Maybe we should just forget this ever happened and move forward with our original plan. Let’s stick to being friends, which we know we’re great at. Sound good?”