Liar.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me come,” she murmurs as I spread her legs, settling between them.
“What?”
“I’ve never come bef—never mind. Forget I said it.”
She chews on her lower lip as I stare at her. I guess she wasn’t lying when she said she and Carmelo don’t have sex, and while that relieves me, I’m also at a loss, because she can’t possibly be saying she’s… never orgasmed before me?
“Haven’t you ever touched yourself?”
“Logan!” she gasps, as though I’ve said somethingsacrilegious.
“What? Doesn’t everybody? How the hell have you been alive for eighteen years without ever getting an orgasm? You’re fucking with me, Lia.”
“I’m not.” Her voice comes out muffled between her hands. “Doesn’t matter. Never mind.”
“Itdoesmatter.”
I force her hands away from her face, trapping them to either side of her. “Are you really saying no one’s ever given you an orgasm before? Only me?”
“Only you, Logan,” she confirms softly.
“And I’m supposed to believe you?”
Her face hardens very slightly, but she only shrugs.
“So you’ve never… touched yourself?”
Her features relax, her skin turning splotchy red. “Logan! I don’tdothat.”
A snort escapes my lips. “What do you mean, you don’t do that?”
“I was raised right,” she huffs, folding her arms and looking cross. “You know, go to church every Sunday. No masturbation. No sex before marriage—”
This time, I laugh outright. “Oh, yeah? And how’s that working out for you?”
“It’s working out fine,” she snaps, her voice back to the harshness I remember so well from when we were younger. “I’ve never—”
“You’ve never had sex before marriage. Right.” I roll my eyes. “So youarethe Virgin Mary.”
She opens and closes her mouth a number of times. “I did have Aurora before… I mean… the wedding… I made a lot of mistakes, Logan. A lot of mistakes. If I could go back in time… but I can’t.”
“No,” I agree. “You can’t.”
Her voice quivers, and before I can stop her, she drags her knees up and hugs them to her chest.
It’s all her fault. I should hate her, or at least, relish in the sight of her tears. But it’s like something shifted today. I can’t keep my eyes from burning anymore than I can keep my hand from reaching out and gently catching her chin. I lift her face up, and with the other hand, I dry the tears on her cheeks and the snot under her nose.
“Logan, oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Her face flaming, she looks around in vain for a tissue, before trying to hide her runny nose from me with her hands. Again, I force them to her side.
I open my mouth, then close it again. I can’t continue down this path of comforting her. I just can’t.
So I settle on, “Open your thighs for me.”
“Logan!”
“Go on, Lia,” I insist. “Do it. Or I will.”
