“What’s wrong with that?”
I smile faintly. “Tell me what’s bothering you, baby.”
She is silent for so long that I start to worry.
“I felt like a fraud today,” she finally says. “I think everyone recognized me for who I am—a stray, hussy dirtbag who has no business being around you.”
My heart aches for her. I don’t know what to say or do to help her feel confident and overcome her feelings of shame. “Hussy?” I repeat, to lighten the mood. “Do people still use the word hussy?”
A smile pulls at her lips. “Your Aunt Lydia probably does. Fine. A loose woman? Oh, Logan, don’t look at me like I’m funny. I’m being serious right now. You know what I mean.”
“Were you flashing your tits and making lewd jokes when I wasn’t looking?”
She exhales and sags against me. “My lewd jokes are usually a big hit at parties,” she says primly against my shoulder. “And I’ve been told my nipple tassels are quite tasteful.”
“I’ll have to see these tassels for myself before I can confirm that.” I pull her neckline toward me and peek down her shirt, earning a weak laugh.
“Well, I’m not wearing them now. They’re my party getup. You’re a little too late to the show.”
“Damn. Next time. In all seriousness, I think you did just fine.” I tilt her chin up toward me. “It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks anyway.”
“Oh, shut up,” she says, slapping my chest lightly. “Everyone always says that. They plaster it all over motivational kitten-and-sunset posters, as if it’s a universal truth. But it’s not. What everyone thinksdoesmatter.In this case, more than ever.It’s your family, whom you care about.”
“And my family cares about you.”
She blushes and looks down. “If that’s true, I don’t deserve it. Especially from your mom. Besides, you heard what Caitlin said the other day. I know she’s not the only one who thinks I’m a…a slut.”
“You’re not a slut.”
Sierra rolls her eyes at me. “That’s an impossible argument to make. Look at me, sitting on your lap, half naked.”
“Well, you won’t get any complaints from me. You can bemyslut.” My voice drops, rougher now. “Actually, I like the sound of that.”
Her laugh turns into a sigh. “Logan, I don’t see how this will…”
She trails off, looking so sad that I kiss along her cheek, down the tip of her nose. She yields, tilting her head to meet my lips, letting me comfort her a little.
“You need to start seeing yourself the way I see you. You’re perfect to me.”
Her face twists. “I don’t think you see me clearly,” she whispers. “I don’t even know why you want me when I’m so…tainted.”
I shush her. “No, you’re not.”
“And I’ll always be tainted, Logan,” she insists. “This…this is what will always be on me, forever. It’s who I am now.”
“No. Who you are,” I correct her, “is my beautiful, thoughtful, adventurous”—I punctuate each adjectivewith a kiss—“kind, creative, passionate, committed, determined, sexy… Sierra.”
I kiss her slowly, taking little sips against her lips. She opens to me, and soon her tongue is exploring the inside of my mouth. Little gentle touches at first, then the kiss deepens.
I hesitate. The conversation isn’t over, but the way she is responding to me now makes it hard to think. My hands slip down and over her thighs, which feel so warm against my bare skin. She whimpers against my mouth, canting her hips forward, seeking my touch.
Temptation wins out. “Ride me,” I order. “Show me how much of a slut you are for me.”
Her eyes are dazed and glassy with lust. “Yes, sir,” she says in that breathless voice that drives me wild. She lowers herself slowly onto me.
She puts on a show, tossing her hair, squeezing her breasts, rocking her hips, and riding me with reckless abandon. It’s so unbelievably sexy that it takes so much effort not to come right away. When she starts getting close, I play with her clit until she gasps and shudders in my arms. I’m seconds behind her.
But this release doesn’t feel as satisfying as usual—it feels tainted.
