Good Girl(41)

Firm. Fucking. No.

"What do you want?" I ask her as I inch the car forward, thinking about what a loaded question that is. How did I go from firm no to paying half a million for the pleasure of her company? How? Fuck my life. I'm so distracted with the grand opening looming I can't see straight.

"Ohhh," she says while drumming her hands against her knees as if this is a very exciting decision. "A small iced coffee and an egg and cheese breakfast burrito." She sits back in the passenger seat a moment and crosses her arms, her knees bouncing on the floorboard of my car. "Wait, no," she says, shaking her head. "I want two egg and cheese breakfast burritos. I'm starving. I think I burned a lot of calories last night."

I place her order times two, handing the food to her as it's passed to me through the drive-up window. Then I slide the car into an empty spot in the parking lot, leaving it running. Lydia hands me a burrito before unwrapping straws for both of us and inserting them into the plastic cups, settled in my cup holders.

"Can I ask you something?" she asks as she pulls a burrito from the bag for herself.

"Sure." I take a bite of the one she handed to me. It's not terrible.

"Since you asked me," she adds and I wonder what I asked her. She peels the wrapper back on her burrito before continuing, "What did it feel like? Having sex with me?" She takes a bite of her own burrito and emits a little hum of happiness as the food hits her tongue.

"It felt pretty fucking great." I watch her chew, oddly fascinated with this girl.

"Really?"

"Really."

She takes another bite, being careful not to spill, and watches me, silent. I take a sip of the iced coffee and wince, dropping it back into the cup holder in my car.

"That's not great," I tell her and watch her eyes widen in surprise then narrow in judgment, her right eyebrow raised in challenge. "Too sweet," I protest.

"You're crazy." She rolls her eyes and takes another careful bite of her burrito. I finish off my second and put the car into reverse. I'm taking a right back onto Tropicana when she speaks again.

"I gave you a lot more than that. When you asked," she points out, not incorrectly. She'd been turned towards me while we ate, but she finishes her first burrito and settles back into her seat again, facing forward while digging into the bag for her second.

I slide my sunglasses on to block the intrusions. The sun, her questions, my thoughts. It helps for one out of three.

"Was that a weird question?" she asks as we get stopped by the light on Spencer less than half a minute after pulling back onto Tropicana. "Do people not ask each other that? You asked me so I thought…" She stops speaking, a tiny sigh coming from her lips. "Never mind. I'm so bad at this."

"Humbling," I finally say when the light turns green. "It felt humbling to be inside of you. And wet. Slick and warm and tight. Soft, perfect. You felt fucking perfect, every inch of you. Your tight pussy, the pressure of your fingertips on my arms when it was too tight for you, the scrape of your nails down my sides when it felt just right. When you orgasmed it felt even tighter, and wetter, like your pussy was milking my cock, which made me feel even bigger and harder and like I might lose the circulation to my dick but it'd have been worth it."

Different. It'd felt different in a way that confused me, but made me want more at the same time. Real and raw. Primal.

"So, pretty normal?"

"Yeah, pretty normal."





Twenty-One





RHYS



We make it through a couple of traffic lights and pass a Wal-Mart when I spot a sign for Goodwill and pull into the shopping plaza.

"Oh, my God, we're really going to Goodwill?" The question is asked with way less excitement than I was expecting. I thought I'd get Del Taco excitement but her response was more trepidation than thrill.

"You said this is what you do," I reply, confused.

"I don't think Goodwill is what you think it is and it's really not going to be your thing. I don't even need anything today so we don't have to do this."

I ignore her and park. She grabs her iced coffee with a small groan and opens the car door.

"‘Retail store and donation center,’" I read from the sign once I've met her at the bumper of my car. "We're at a thrift shop?"

She hesitates, the toe of her sneaker dragging across the pavement and her body half turned back towards the car. "You're way too busy for this, Rhys. I really don't need to go today. Let's just leave."

"We're already here." I motion to the doors and start walking knowing she'll follow—mostly because I've already locked the car. When I get to the door I hold it open for her and then follow her inside.

Used shit. That's my first thought upon entry. This is not the source of her debt. Lydia has raised the cup of iced coffee to her lips and is taking a long sip, the straw pressed tightly between her lips. I wonder why we're in a thrift shop instead of back at the hotel with my dick between her lips but coming here was my idea. I think. She's standing on one foot, the toe of the other again pivoting on the ground, this time on linoleum instead of asphalt, and now that we're inside the dread on her face has given way to a look of anticipation.