Stay(45)

Scanning her face from above, her soft blonde waves, round blue eyes, pert nose, small breasts, flat stomach. And that mouth… never forget that mouth.

“I’m pretty confident I’d be content fucking you for a long time, Mrs. Hastings.”

“Always Mr. Confident.”

Sitting forward, I move the bowl of snacks to the nightstand and pull her beneath me. “Stephen!” She tries to wiggle away, but I hold her down. “I want the truth now. Why do you hate me?”

She arches her back, but I’m too strong. “You’re not going anywhere, cheater. I get one of my questions answered.”

Finally, she stops struggling and looks at me, eyes narrowed. “I answered your questions. I told you my first kiss.”

“You didn’t tell me your first fuck.”

Her cheeks flame red, and she starts struggling again. “Let me go.”

“I told you mine. It’s only fair.”

“Stephen!” Her voice grows louder, but my grip only tightens around her.

“I’ll let you go as soon as you give up the name. I know it wasn’t Burt, because we were together before him.” She struggles harder, and I lean down to kiss her neck. That makes her growl, and I chuckle. “Secrets destroy marriages.”

“If you don’t let me go, I swear—”

“Name.” I look in her eyes, and her struggle weakens.

She turns her face to the side, and I’m not sure… Do I see a tear? Instantly, I release her, sitting back on the bed. She rolls onto her side, putting her hand over her face, and it’s like a punch in the gut.

“Hey…” I dive down beside her, putting my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was only playing.”

She pushes my hand away, refusing to look at me. She’s all the way on her stomach now with her arms crossed around her face. She’s not full-on crying, but something’s wrong.

“Did I hurt you?” My voice is gentle, soothing. My stomach is tight.

We’re close, my thigh against hers, her pretty back exposed. I trace a finger up her spine. “I wish you’d look at me.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move. Then she turns her head, letting me see her pretty face. I trace my thumb along the top of her cheek, moving a soft wave behind her ear.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” She pushes off the bed and crawls up to the other side of the California king, pulling a blanket over her knees and looking at the flatscreen television.

I’m puzzled by her response. She’s been so playful and open with everything else. Then it hits me like a freight train.

Crawling over to where she sits, I prop beside her, touching the top of her shoulder with my fingertip. “Did he treat you badly?”

Her head turns slowly, and she studies me. She, blinks a few times and seems to consider my question.

Could that be the reason? This beautiful girl. This smart, strong woman… My jaw tightens, and rage burns in my throat at the very possibility. How have I gone from wanting to spank her to wanting to destroy anyone who might hurt her? How did that happen?

“What if I said yes?” Her eyes narrow. “Would you track him down and kick his ass if I asked you?”

“Do you want me to do that?” Would I do that? God help me, I think I would.

“Maybe. I hate him.” A grin curls her lips, and she’s taunting me like it’s a game.

It kind of pisses me off, and fuck it, I’ve got a semi. She’s right. I do love fighting with her.

“Emily Barton Hastings, tell me his name.”

“Stephen Hastings.” She crosses her arms.

I wait.

We’re both breathing faster.

Seconds tick past.

Sir David Attenborough says something about a massive sea slug, and I consider throwing the remote at the television.

Still, she watches me.

I’ve lost patience. “Are you going to tell me his name?”

“I just did.”

“What…” My brow furrows, and everything shifts. I pause to understand the words she just spoke. “Stephen Hastings…” The bottom falls out. “Wait. I don’t understand. You’re saying I… It was me?”

“It was you. You were my first.” Her expression is level, old anger simmering in her eyes.

I’m fumbling, doing my best to remember the details of that night so long ago. Why don’t I remember it better? I would if I’d known… “You didn’t act like a virgin.”

“How do virgins act?”

“Shy? Scared? Like it fucking hurts, for starters.” My voice rises in volume.

“Oh, it hurt.” Her voice rises to meet mine. “I held on until it passed and started to feel better. Then it started to feel good.”

I’m pretty sure she’s enjoying torturing me this way.

“You’re saying that night, in the bathroom at Ethan’s…”

“You were my first. What do the boys say? You popped my cherry?”

“Don’t say that.” My entire body is tight, uncomfortable. “How could you let me be your first and not tell me?”

“Would you have had sex with me if you’d known?”