Sugar Daddy (Travis Family #1)(31)

It must have been the tequila that gave me the sense of being an outside observer as Luke pushed me off his lap and onto the jacket-covered bench. The impact of the wood against my shoulders struck a flare of panic in my midsection, but I ignored it and lay back.

Luke tugged at the fastenings of my jeans and pushed them down over my h*ps and off one leg. I saw a section of sky from beneath the gazebo roof. It was a misty night with no stars or moon. The only light came from the distant blue glow of a street lamp, flickering from a moth storm.

Like any average teenage boy, Luke understood next to nothing about the more subtle erogenous areas on a woman's body. I knew even less than he, and being too timid to volunteer what I did or didn't like, I passively let him do what he would. I had no idea where to put my hands. I felt him reach beneath my panties, where the hair was warm and flattened. More rubbing, a few times roughly grazing the sensitive place that made me jump. He gave an excited half-laugh, mistaking my discomfort for enjoyment.

Luke's body was broad and heavy as he lowered himself until my legs stiffly bracketed his. He groped between us, unzipping his jeans, using both hands to accomplish some hurried task. I heard the sound of crackling plastic, and felt him pulling at something, arranging it, and then there was the unfamiliar taut, bobbing length of him against my inner thigh.

He pushed my shirt and bra up higher, bunching them beneath my chin. His mouth was at my breast, pulling tightly. I thought we had probably gone too far to stop, that I had no right to say no at this point. I wished it was over, that he would finish soon. Even as that thought crossed my mind, the pressure between my legs became bruising. I tensed and gritted my teeth, and looked up at Luke's face. He didn't look back at me. He was focused on the act itself, not on me. I had become nothing more than the instrument by which he would gain relief. He shoved harder, harder into my resistant flesh, and a pained sound broke from my lips.

It only took a few searing thrusts, the condom turning slick from blood, and then he was shuddering against me. groaning in his throat.

"Oh, baby, that was so good."

I kept my arms around him. A ripple of revulsion ran through me as I felt him kiss my neck, his breath like steam on my skin. It was enough—he'd had enough of me—I needed to belong to myself again. I was relieved beyond measure when he lifted away, my flesh raw and hurting.

We dressed ourselves silently. I had held all my muscles so tightly that when I finally relaxed, they began to tremble from the strain. I trembled all over until even my teeth chattered.

Luke drew me against him. patting my back. "Are you sorry?" he asked, his voice low.

He didn't expect me to say yes, and I wouldn't. It seemed bad manners somehow, and it wouldn't change anything. What was done was done. But I wanted to go home. I wanted to be alone. Only then could I start to catalog the changes that had occurred in me.

"No." I mumbled against his shoulder.

He patted my back some more. "It'll be better for you the next time. I promise. My last girlfriend was a virgin, and it took a few times before she started to like it."

I stiffened a little. No girl wanted to hear about a previous girlfriend at such a time. And although I wasn't surprised that Luke had had sex with a virgin before, it rankled. It seemed to lessen the value of what I'd given him. As if being someone's first lover was a commonplace occurrence for him, Luke, the kind of boy virgins threw themselves at.

"Please," I said, "take me home. I'm so tired..."

"Of course, baby."

On the way back to Bluebonnet Ranch, Luke drove with one hand and held mine with the other, often giving it a small squeeze. I wasn't sure whether he was offering reassurance or asking for it, but I squeezed back every time. He asked if I wanted to go out to eat tomorrow night, and I automatically said yes.

We made some conversation. I was too dazed to know what I was saying. Random thoughts went through my mind in the darting, irregular patterns of mourning doves. I was worried about how bad I was going to feel when the numbness wore off, and trying silently to convince myself there was no reason to feel bad. Other girls my age slept with their boyfriends.. .Lucy had, and Moody was seriously considering it. So what if I had? I was still me. I kept repeating that to myself. Still me.

Now that we had done it once, was it going to happen all the time? Would Luke expect every date to end with sex? I literally cringed at the thought. I felt stings and twitches in unexpected places, and the pinch of strained muscles in my thighs. It would have been no different with Hardy, I told myself. The pain, the smells, the physical functions would have

been the same.

We pulled up to the trailer, and Luke walked me to the front steps. He seemed inclined to linger. Desperate to get rid of him, I put on a show of affection, hugging him hard, kissing his lips and chin and cheek. The display seemed to restore his confidence. He grinned and let me go inside.

"Bye. baby doll."

"Bye, Luke."

A lamp in the main room had been left on: but Mama and the baby were asleep. Thankfully I went to get my pajamas, carried them to the bathroom, and ran the hottest shower I could tolerate. Standing in the near-scalding water, I scrubbed hard at the rusty smears on my legs. The heat eased the clustering aches, water pouring over me until my skin no longer seemed imprinted with the feel of Luke. By the time I stepped from the shower. I was parboiled.

I dressed in my pajamas and went to my room, where Carrington was beginning to wriggle in her crib. Wincing at the soreness between my legs, I hurried to get a bottle ready. She was awake by the time I came back to her, but for once she wasn't screaming. She was waiting patiently, as if she knew I needed some forbearance. She reached for me with chubby amis and clung to my neck as I brought her to the rocker.