“Not yet, greedy girl,” I say while licking her essence off of my fingers.
“How many times can you come in a row, Queenie?” I ask in awe of her responsiveness.
“I don’t know.”
There’s something about the innocence of that answer that gives me pause. I was giving her shit about it days ago, but is it actually possible that Gigi is still a virgin? I swore I saw a half used pack of birth control pills in her bathroom vanity.
“Why’d you stop?” she asks.
“Gigi, are you on the pill?”
“Yes.”
I sigh to myself in relief, mostly for selfish reasons, because I don’t have a condom on me.
“They help with my period.”
Uh oh.
“Wait, Gigi, have you done this before?”
I literally point to my dick.
“Yes, of course.”
She doesn’t look me in the eye when she answers, though.
“Gigi, look at me. Are you a virgin?”
“Does it matter?”
I sit up.
“Uh, yeah, it definitely matters.”
“You’re ruining the mood, Knox.”
“Just answer the question.”
As if I don’t already know the answer by now.
“Yes, okay? I’m still a virgin.”
“Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, almost in tears.
“Nothing’s wrong, G. I just wish you would have told me.”
“Why?”
“I would have done things differently. I would have slowed this whole thing down. And to be totally honest with you, I’ve never been with a virgin before. I don’t know if I want that responsibility.”
“You don’t have to marry me after you deflower me, jackass.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m saying that I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to remember your first time as some awful, awkward fuck.”
Gigi sits up and climbs onto my lap, clinging to my neck like a sloth.
