“Yeah?” A little wary.
“That doesn’t make any difference to me. When Troy came back into my life, I discovered he had dropped out of high school and was working a minimum wage job. He kept his sanity by reading library books. He’s gone back to school now—studying Canadian Literature. Do you think I ever, even for a second, judged him?”
“Vancouver’s an expensive city. You can’t even live on a minimum wage job.” He snickered. “You’re surprised I know that. Because I live in a mansion in Shaughnessy, you think I don’t know about other people.”
“I didn’t know you lived in a mansion in Shaughnessy. Frankly, it didn’t matter. Doesn’t matter,” I quickly added. “I see you for who you are—not who your father is.”
“What do you see?” Misery-filled.
“A man who is at a crossroads. One way leads to certain destruction—maybe even jail and premature death.” I wrapped my arms around myself. My back, to the fire, was toasty. My front, facing him, was chilled. “The other way leads to finding your own path in life. Only you can make that choice. Be a better person, or continue to be self-destructive. I can’t choose for you.”
He blinked several times. “You really think—” His voice broke. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You really think I can be a better person?”
“Of course. You had a better start in life than many people—wealth-wise. But I’d say you lacked the love that I had in abundance. And yeah, things are tight for me financially sometimes. But my dad helps me out, I work as a teaching assistant, and I have student loans. I’m still luckier than a whole swath of people out there.”
“Like your stepfather.”
“Exactly. I’m so damn proud of him. That he accepted my dad’s help when he needed it. That he admitted his life had been rough for a few years. That he took the offered assistance, and has built a better life for himself. He’s someone I can admire. So’s my dad. My mom died when I was younger—Dad stepped up and raised me right.”
“You’re so lucky.”
I cocked my head.
“My mom took off when I was four. I never heard from her again.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, pretty much. It’s thewoe is mestory. My dad didn’t give me any love. I was raised by a series of indifferent housekeepers. I was told to stay out of trouble. Which I didn’t do. I even started a degree. Dad made fun of me. So, in a fit of anger, I quit. I’ve been bumming around ever since.”
“That doesn’t sound like a way to live.”
“Yeah, I guess not. I just…I don’t know anything different.”
Slowly, I nodded. “Then you have to figure out a way out of your quagmire. Find a way to chart your own course. Your own path.”
“I don’t—” He swallowed. “I think that’s too hard.”
“Too hard is winding up in jail or dead.That’shard.”
He sniffed. “You’re not wrong about that.” He held up the lube and condoms.
I grinned. “Hell fucking yes.”
We dove under the covers at the same time. The flannel sheet cooled my scorching-hot ass. My nipples had pebbled in the cold—a totally contradictory sensation. I worried about getting hard again.
I needn’t have.
Kellen nibbling behind my ear—then scraping his cheek down mine—had my libido waking again. I could barely remember his blow job as he again took me in his hand. “So, am I fucking you?” His gaze met mine.
“That. Yes. Please.”
“Cool. Do you mind if I prep you? Some guys don’t like it…but I find there’s an intimacy to it. Not that I’d ever share that with any of my hookups.”
Proof, at least tacitly, that this was more than just a hookup. More than just ayou’re here and I’m here, so let’s fuck. “I’d love for you to prep me. I’m—” I swallowed. “This is new for me.”
He pressed a hard kiss to my lips. “Oh, I’m going to love being your first.” He scooched closer. “On your back? I want to see your face so I can figure out if things are working or not.”
I had absolute faith in him. Not just because he’d done this many times before, although that helped. No, I trusted him implicitly. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He wasn’t going to take advantage of my naïveté. So I rolled onto my back, in the middle of the bed, settled a pillow behind my head, and spread my knees for him.
