Determined, I enter the house, the thump-thump of the music reverberating deep inside my chest. Seeing myself in a tall mirror in the hallway, I quickly wipe my nose and brush away the tears. There’s nothing I can do about my red-rimmed eyes, but the light is dim here, so hopefully no one will notice. I don’t need to gaze into anyone’s eyes, anyway. I just want to feel.
The noise and the number of people around me are overwhelming, and my newfound determination evaporates as quickly as snow on a hot summer day. I don’t actually know how to talk to men, let alone how to ask them if they want to have sex. Do people even call it that? Having sex? Is there some special word for it? God, I’m so hopeless!
Then I notice an equally nervous man standing by himself in the corner and clutching his cup tightly. He’s short, a little taller than me but not by much, thin and all kinds of petite. Nothing like Mikhail, but perhaps that’s a good thing. I need to forget about Mikhail, if only for a short while, because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget him completely. He’s carved himself too deep into my soul.
The cute, short man looks more approachable than the rest of the crowd and, after giving myself a pep talk, I decide to try my luck. What’s the worst that can happen that hasn’t already happened to me, anyway?
“Hi,” I murmur awkwardly as I move closer to the stranger. He doesn’t even glance at me, and I realize he can’t hear me over the music. “Hi!” I try again, louder this time.
Startled, he turns to me, the stale beer splashing from his cup. I rear back to avoid getting soaked, and the man immediately starts apologizing. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there. So, so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I snatch some napkins from the nearby snacks table and help him clean up the mess, our heads butting together as we both move forward at once. Romantic, it is not, but that’s okay. I’m not looking for romance. “I’m Grace,” I introduce myself, figuring it’s a good start. How do people initiate sexual interactions? There’s probably some flirting involved, though I have no clue how that works. Should I tell him he looks good, or does that only work the other way around?
“Justin,” the man replies with a boyish smile. He looks young, almost too young to be here, but so do I, so I’m not judging. “I, um, haven’t seen you around. I would have remembered meeting such a beautiful woman.” He cringes. “Sorry, that was terrible. I’m so bad at this.”
That makes two of us. My phone rings in my pocket, and I roll my eyes when I look at the screen. Mother. I reject the call and turn the device off. She’s going to be incandescent, but really, what is she going to do to me? Ground me? Spank me? At this point, I’d welcome it, which is weird as hell. I’d much rather do something with Justin. Well, I’d prefer to do something with my favorite Russian sex slave trainer, but since he’s not coming, this awkward, lanky man will do.
“Do you want to have sex?” I ask, deciding that a direct approach might work best since we’re both socially challenged.
“Oh, er, um, what?” Justin sputters, then narrows his eyes. “Wait, is this a prank?”
“No. I just want to have sex with someone,” I say, blushing violently. Why is this so complicated?
“And…you chose me?” Justin asks incredulously, like the thought of someone wanting to have sex with him hasn’t even occurred to him. Which is odd, because he’s cute. Not the rugged, dominant, powerful kind of sexy like— Someone. Still, Justin is hot.
“Yes, I chose you.” I hesitate. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“Oh no, I absolutely want to. I just… I’m sorry. Yes. Yes, I do. Want to, um, do that. Yes. So, uh.” Running his hand through his hair, Justin looks around. “I’ve never— I’m not a virgin! I’m not, I’ve just never hooked up like this, so… I think there are some rooms upstairs?”
Jesus, this is so awkward. “Okay. So… We go there?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s probably a good idea.” Justin offers me his hand, then pulls it back as if he wasn’t sure if we’re supposed to be holding hands or not. Truth be told, I don’t know either. In the end, I follow him up the stairs and into a tiny room that barely fits more than a twin bed.
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” I want to feel something, but I’d rather avoid getting arrested for trespassing.
“Yeah, it’s fine. People use these rooms all the time.” I must be grimacing, because he quickly adds, “It’s early, so no one has been here yet. The bed is clean.” He pulls back the covers, nodding to himself. “Yeah, it’s good. For, um, sex.”
“Uh-huh.” We share an awkward look, neither of us sure what to do next. Do we kiss? Or jump straight to undressing? Should I suck his cock?
Biting his lip, Justin steps closer and cups my cheek. His palm is soft and warm, his touch gentle. As he lowers his head and his lips meet mine, I hold back a sigh. It’s not a bad kiss, but I still feel nothing. No arousal, no happiness, no excitement. I need more than a soft kiss and gentle touch. I need pain. “Hurt me,” I breathe out against Justin’s mouth. “Please.”
He’s wearing a belt that would feel amazing landing on my ass, but when I start to undo it, he stops me. “What?”
My fingers tighten on the leather. Yes, that’s going to be perfect. “Spank me. Hard. Please. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise. I give excellent blowjobs. Don’t you want to make me choke on your cock?” They all wanted that. Chernov. His men. Mikhail, but I’m not thinking about him. They all loved thegagging and gasping and sputtering that comes with having a cock rammed down one’s throat. They loved it when they could fuck my face and make me swallow them down. “You’ll love it,” I say, attempting a seductive tone as the belt finally comes loose.
Once again, Justin stops me. Something flashes through me when he grabs my wrists, his touch no longer gentle. Yes, this is what I need.
“Wait,” he says, pushing me away a bit. “Stop. I’m not really into…that.” The way he looks at me hits like a cold shower on my newly awakened arousal. He seems confused, but there’s also concern and, worse, pity in his eyes. Then he asks, “Are you okay?” and that’s the final straw.
“I would be if you just did what you were supposed to!” I don’t know why I’m yelling, but I can’t stop. “Why the hell won’t you just fuck me?”
“I think you need help.”
Anger isn’t an emotion I expected to feel tonight, but it burns through me, sharp and hot. “Help?! Because I wanted to have sex with you? You’re the one who needs help, you stupid jerk!”
I would have preferred it if he yelled back at me, but he only looks more concerned on my behalf. “Grace, you’re crying. You started crying the moment I kissed you. You’re not okay, and I don’t want to make it worse. There’s a counselor on the campus. If—”
Oh my god, what is happening? Not only won’t he have sex with me, but he thinks I need a therapist? I do, but still. What’s this guy’s problem?! “You’re useless!” Ignoring Justin calling my name, I storm out of the room, absently noting that I’m crying again. “Useless fucking idiot!” I yell at him as a parting gift.
