Prologue
Amy
Two Months Ago
“Quinn, this feels like a lot of makeup you’re putting on me,” I point out, as my best friend Quinn leans over me, painting me in what feels like an inch thick layer of foundation.
“Shh, I’m almost done.” She drops the brush down on my dressing table and picks up some mascara, bringing the little spikey brush up to my eye.
“I swear, if you poke me in the eye with that thing, I’ll kill you, I’m blind enough as it is.”
“Just shut up and let me do my job. Tonight’s an important night and I want you to look beautiful!”
“Are you saying I don’t always look beautiful?” I tease, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course not. Ames, you’re stunning, I’m justaccentuatingthat beauty.” I keep waiting for her to poke me in the eye with that thing, holding my breath for one little slip of her hand, but thankfully it doesn’t come. “There! All done. Take a look.” She grips the back of my chair and spins me around to face the mirror.
Wow.
I actually look... kind of great. The foundation base is thin, just enough to hide any minor imperfections, namely, those scars left over from my teenage acne years. My full lips are stained in rose pink, and the nude and brown tones of my eyeshadow brings out the turquoise in my eyes. Quinn has managed to wing my eyeliner and with the mascara, my lashes long, ten times the length they usually are.
I’ve never been into makeup, I never really found a need to use it, with the exception of concealer that I used solely to cover up any zit that decided to break out in the middle of my face when I was younger. Thank god, those days are over.
“So... what d’ya think?” Quinn asks, her smile hopeful.
“I think... I look amazing” I look at her through the mirror where she’s stood behind me. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, glad I could help. Right, now to find the perfect dress.”
“I don’t own a single dress fit for the occasion.”
Her eyes widen. “What? Not one?”
“Nope. You know this. All I have are summer dresses.”
“Well then, in that case, we’ll stop off at my place on the way to the club, you can borrow one of mine.”
“That’s really not necessary, I can just wear jeans and a nice top,” I suggest.
“Absolutely not! Amy, tonight is the night where youfinallylose your V card, there’s no way you’re doing it in fucking jeans. Now, come on.”
I heave a sigh before following her out of my room.
Once we get to Quinn’s house that she shares with her boyfriend, Dwight, she picks out a sexy royal blue midi-dress with a dipped neckline and a slit that runs up the left leg to my mid-thigh. The fabric hugs my body so tight it feels like a second-skin, but to my surprise, I don’t feel as uncomfortable in it as I thought I would. As I stand in front of the floor-length mirror in her bedroom, I actually like what I’m seeing.
I look sexy. Attractive. I smooth my hands over the dress, liking how it feels under my touch.
Is this really me that I’m staring at?
“You look incredible. Someone’s gonna be a lucky bastard when they get their hands on you tonight.”
Nerves coil in my belly at the thought.
Tonight’s goal is to find a man willing to take me home and rid me of my virginity. I’d always imagined that my first time would be special, that it would be with someone I loved, but I’m tired of waiting. I’m twenty years old and must be one of the oldest virgins on the planet, I’ve never even been kissed for crying out loud.
I want to feel everything. I want to be kissed, and touched and teased and fucked and everything in between. I don’t care who it’s with, as long as he’s not a creep, he’s attractive and he knows what he’s doing. But every time I try to picture what my first time will look like, there’s only one face I see.
Thick brown hair, longer on the top and shorter at the sides, forest green eyes, a sharp, angular jawline and a sexy-as-fuck smile…
