Page 34 of Mr. Romantic (Mister 2)

And he’s offering me a job tomorrow.

Wasn’t that what I really wanted? Both the job and the sex?

It was. But not anymore. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know anything. I don’t understand this man, I don’t trust him, and I don’t think I should say anything else to him. At all.

By the time I calm down the room is dark. I make out shadows of furniture. A love seat, the bedroom door, the little kitchenette.

The bag on the other chair that holds the bathing suit I bought today.

You didn’t buy it, Ivy.

I get up and grab the bag, taking the suit out of the tissue paper it’s wrapped in, and hold it up.

I hear a splash from outside and walk over to the window.

Nolan is swimming. It figures. I was just thinking I’d like to go for a swim and he’s already out there.

Wait. Why am I turning back into that timid girl I left behind in Rhode Island? Didn’t I come her to say yes to everything I’d normally decline? Didn’t I come her to say no to everything I’d normally accept?

Then why the hell am I letting him control me?

I slip my sundress off and rip the tags from the suit with my teeth and step into it. I wriggle the top part up to cover my breasts and adjust the starburst pattern of straps that point a path directly between my legs.

Screw him. I’m going to let his filthy mouth control me? Unsettle me and make me run away like a child?

No.

But… That timid voice is insistent. But I don’t even know what I’m doing. He’s going to know and if he finds out I’m a virgin, he’ll stop. I just know it. Even though Claudette called him dangerous, I know he will stop.

If I go out there and commit to losing my virginity to Nolan Delaney, then I can’t let him be the reason it doesn’t happen. I will be humiliated if he figures out I’m a virgin and refuses to participate in my little plan.

Google.

Yeah. That’s what the internet is for, right? I can Google it. I can look up what it’s like to lose your virginity and then get ready. Prepare myself.

Oh, God, what if he really does want a blow job? I don’t think I could fake that. I’ve seen it done, sure. But I’ve never, like… practiced.

I grab my phone, desperate for some advice, and type in, What does it feel like to lose your virginity?

I scan the results, pick the second entry, which is people telling their losing it story in a forum.

Hurts.

Feels like your vag is stretching.

Amazing.

Hurts.

Hurts.

Hurts.

There is only one story that says amazing, so I go with that one. If I’m going to do it, I want it to be amazing. I didn’t save myself up all these years to let my first time be a disappointment.

My boyfriend has the biggest cock. I’ve seen a lot of them watching porn, so I was scared. But he was careful with me. And let me be on top. It made all the difference. I eased down at my own pace, and instead of letting him fill me, I pretended like I was covering him. I rocked my hips a little when he was inside me and that just stimulated my clit like crazy. Before I knew it, the pain was over and I was enjoying myself. I even came. I know people will say I’m lying, but he was playing with my clit the whole time. And it just felt so good.

OK. I’m feeling a little better about this. Better not ruin it with any more stories. I go back to Google and type in, How to give a blow job.