He listens and does all of that and then some. Before I know what’s happening, my body’s shaking.
I meet his gaze and he must sense my fear. My body’s on the verge of something huge.
“I got you. Just let go. Come for me,” he pleads.
I’m not one to deny him anything. I come. And when I do, he must sense I’m a screamer because he slants his mouth over mine, tongues dueling as I cry out into his mouth. Then again, maybe it’s because he’s a loud groaner when he comes. Wow, the look on his face, the way his body jerks, it’s crazy sexy—but it’s also intimate in a way I wasn’t expecting. Crap.
He stills above me, allowing his weight to rest on top of me.
He’s breathing heavily against my neck and it’s getting me horny again. I’m a total whore.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah.”
He leans up and looks at me again. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“What? The virgin or the sex?”
“Both, either. Did I hurt you?” he asks.
“Not after…”
He nods. “This might hurt, though. I’m sorry.” He slowly pulls out of me and he’s right, it hurts. I wince and groan.
I reach into my backpack and pull out a wet wipe. It might burn, what with all the alcohol on it, but I need to clean up what I’m sure is blood. I do as he re-hooks my bra. I get dressed and he’s lying back on the blanket, relaxed as can be.
“Don’t most guys bolt the minute the sex is done?” I question.
He nods. “Normally. I don’t want you to feel used because that’s not what this was. I don’t know what it was, but it was something.”
I nod in return. “I don’t know what it was, either, other than toe-curling.”
“It was,” he agrees. “What’s your real name, Jill?”
I shake my head. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Don’t you want a name to go with the guy who you gave your virginity to?”
Hmm. He seems irritated. But names are not part of this game… not that this is a game. Whatever.
“I know his name,” I tell him, holding his hand.
He goes deathly still. “What do you mean?”
“You’re Hot Guy Jack or HGJ, for short. I think it’s better this way. I think you were surprised I didn’t know who you were because you’re a pretty big deal. I don’t want to know. It wouldn’t make sense. I’m leaving before long.”
“We could keep in contact. Text.”
I shake my head. “It’s better if we don’t.”
“Were you using me?” he asks.
“No. I didn’t plan this. I was honest. I’ve never felt any of that before with any of my previous boyfriends, which is why I still had my V-card.”
“I get it. I do. I just…” he trails off, looking out at the ocean.
I kinda feel bad now. Maybe I could give him my number. What would it hurt? He wouldn’t know my real name… unless he did some kind of background check on me. Then he’d know. But really, what’s the harm? It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again.
