sound, fearful of anyone hearing in the dead of the night. How am I going to go through with this?
“I need to know, Maize.”
“Yes, even…there.” I glance around. “It’s too bright in here.”
Ignoring me, he goes back on his heels, his hands on my thighs. “So what do you know about fucking?”
My first reaction is to blurt out, “A lot.”
He angles his head, and goes thoughtful for a moment. “You’ve done this before, then?”
“Yes. I’ve had sex. Ryan and I…well, we had sex,” I blurt out, although he has no idea that my childhood friend and I deflowered each other, all with zero romance. What the hell am I even thinking? This isn’t romance. This is about fucking. The one and only Christian Moore doesn’t do romance or relationships. He fucks. Simple as that.
The muscles in his jaw tighten. “This isn’t the first time you’ve mentioned Ryan. Who is he?” he asks through clenched teeth, and a wave of embarrassment moves through me. I’m not about to tell him the story. Although from the look on his face, I fear he might just drag it out of me.
I give a dismissive wave, and note how shaky my hands are. “Just a guy, from a long time ago.”
His gaze narrows in on me. “Is he here, at Kingston?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good, now I don’t have to kill him.”
I stiffen. “Why would you—”
“He obviously means something to you. You keep bringing him up.”
“He’s just a guy from back home. A friend I grew up with. The boy next door.”
He stares at me long and hard, like he’s trying to process. “You fucked a friend?”
“I don’t date, Christian. I fuck,” I say, with more bravado than I feel as I shoot his words back at him, and he grins.
“Is that right? So you and Ryan fuck, then?”
“We did once.” I give a frustrated sigh and hit the bed with my fist. “We just…wanted to get rid of our virginity before college. Him more than me.”
His fingers curl. “It was mutual?”
“Yes,” I say quickly, and take in the anger in his eyes. What would he have done if it wasn’t? “I was tired of being a virgin.”
“You did it once, then.” He nods and scrubs his face. “You know nothing about fucking, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” I admit. Will he leave now? Leave the inexperienced girl who knows nothing, to take the edge off herself while he goes and gets a seasoned girl who knows how to please a guy?
“Good.”
His answer takes me by surprise. “Why is that good?”
“Because I get to be the guy to show you how good it can be. There won’t be any fumbling in the dark,” he says, pushing me down on the bed as he glances at his lamp. “The lights stay on. I want to see you.”
He holds me immobile. A gasp I have zero control over crawls out of my throat and he stares at me so long, I swear he can see all my dirty secrets, read all the filthy thoughts that would have undoubtedly send my old Catholic teachers into a frenzy. Do I care? Hell no, and yeah… Hell. That’s where I might be going. But right now, I suspect this man is going to take me to heaven and I’m ready for the ride because I want this.
I want him.
Consequences be damned.
He stands up, reaches over his back in typical guy fashion, grabs his shirt and pulls it over his head. Starting at his shoulders, my gaze drops, taking pleasure in every bump and valley. For the last few weeks, I’ve tried not to stare, but now I can look my fill.
“Sit up,” he commands, and I do what he says. He steps up to me, takes my hand and puts it on his body.
“You’ve been staring for weeks, Maize. I thought maybe you’d like to touch.”
I nod—no sense in denying it—and unable to find my words, I run my hands over his taut skin and hard muscles. My breathing changes, and when he rips into his jeans, I nearly collapse. He stands there, with the button open, and a measure of panic goes through me. Do I shove my hands in his pants? Do I take him into my mouth like he talked about?
“Relax, Maize.” He runs the back of his hand over my cheek, his eyes full of understanding. “I’ll walk you through this.” I nod, and look down, but he touches my chin, bringing my eyes to his.