Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Then it hit me like an eighteen-wheeler barreling down a road: She was a stripper and a virgin. How messed up was that, that we lived the kind of life where she was rubbing her tits in men’s faces and straddling their laps when she hadn’t even had sex. Something about that was downright tragic. Monroe James wasn’t at all what I had thought she was—what anyone thought she was. And she was so much better than I deserved.
24
Monroe
Groaning, I rolled my face into Zepp’s pillow and inhaled the scent of him that clung to it. It was only when I shifted to my back and felt cold air touch my chest that I opened my eyes. I was naked. Well, except for my boots.
My head pounded like a marching band, and my stomach threatened to rebel when I sat up. Zepp sat at his desk, sweeping a pencil over a page. A little concentration line sunk between his brows, cutting into the perfect planes of his face. It wasn’t Zepp himself, though, that had my heart racing in my chest. It was the sight of the used condom on the nightstand. I remembered kissing him, sucking his dick, and then, nothing. How was I so drunk that I wouldn’t remember that? I took stock of my body because surely, I would know. I’d feel it.
“Uh, did we…” I pulled the sheet up over my body.
“Have sex?” Seconds of silence ticked by while he continued drawing. “No.”
“Okay. Good.” I didn’t mean to sound so relieved.
He shook his head, his pencil sweeping faster over the page. “Good, huh?”
“No. Just, good because I don’t remember that happening.” And I didn’t want to forget something like that. I fell back against the pillow.
He turned around in his chair, one arm still braced on his desk and a smug grin on his face. “It wasn’t for your lack of trying, though. A for effort.”
The way he said it had embarrassment creeping over me, and my cheeks grew hot. “I’m sorry.”
Contemplation played out on his face. “You wanna know what stopped me?” He pushed up from the chair and started across the room.
I busied myself by kicking off my boots, trying not to look at him when he sat on the edge of the bed. “That I was shit faced drunk and probably really unappealing?”
“Oh, you were very appealing.” He squeezed my thigh. “So it wasn’t that.”
My mind raced as I cringed. I knew Zepp wanted to screw me. Badly. I could only imagine what I had possibly done to put him off. I groaned. “What happened?”
“So. No memory of me eating your pussy?” His teeth raked his bottom lip. “That’s a fucking shame.”
The thread of memory flickered through my mind. Me grabbing his hair, thrusting into his face. Oh, God. “Maybe a little.”
“What about you asking me if it would hurt?”
I literally felt the color drain from my face.
“Not if I would hurt you. But if it would hurt. Like you had no idea what to expect.” His hand left my thigh, and his hard gaze set on me. No, I did not tell him that. Screw beer and all its consequences. Why? Why? I fixed my gaze on the ceiling. “What else did I say?”
“You’re a virgin.”
I slowly focused on him, wrestling with my embarrassment. “Is that an issue?” I could hear the accusation in my voice.
“No.”
“Great. Well then, can we not talk about it?” I moved to the edge of the mattress.
“Why are you getting defensive?”
I snatched up my bra from the floor and slipped it on, then pushed to my feet while I tugged on my skirt. “I’m not. I just…” I found my panties on the other side of the bed and dragged them up my legs. “Don’t feel like discussing this.”
He rounded the bed and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “The only reason I didn’t fuck the absolute shit out of you last night was that, as selfish as I wanted to be, I couldn’t do that to you.”
The tension trickled away from me. This boy had me dangerously on the ropes. My heart was ready to hop out of my chest and lay itself at his feet. And that was terrifying.
I gripped the front of his shirt and pressed my lips to his. “Thank you.”
* * *
I had promised Jade I would study with her, even though I felt like complete ass. Jade answered her door with an oversized hoodie pulled over her head. Jade looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, thanks to the ring of mascara smeared below her eyes.
“You look how I feel,” I said, slipping inside the entranceway.
“I have the worst hangover of all time.”
We cut through her living room toward her room, passing her dad laid out on the sofa, watching a football game.