Page 39
Story: Midnight Enemy
“You didn’t want to save your virginity for your husband?” I ask.
“It’s not nineteen-fifty.”
I chuckle. “No, I know.”
“I hate it,” she says fiercely. “It’s like an anchor weighing me down. Any man I meet would want a girl who knows what she’s doing. I wanted to get rid of it.”
The elated feeling I got when she said she liked and trusted me sinks a little. That might be true, but for her those feelings were just a means to an end. She was attracted to me, and maybe because of my position and status and the fact that I’m respected in the community, she felt she could trust me, and therefore I was a suitable contender to rid herof her innocence. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I feel as if I’ve somehow despoiled a fresh mountain stream by washing my dirty clothes in it.
But I don’t say that. I hold her, lending her my warmth as she shivers and cuddles up close to me.
“You smell nice,” she whispers.
My lips curve up. She lifts her face to look up at me, and I study her mouth, with the beautiful Cupid’s bow, then lower my head to press my lips to hers.
It turns into a smooch, and then she raises an arm around my neck and opens her mouth to slide her tongue against mine.
I lift my head and say, “Whoa.”
She blinks and looks confused. “What?”
“Honey…”
“Don’t stop. Please.”
I summon every ounce of willpower I own and kiss her forehead. “No, love. Not here.”
She moves back a bit and frowns at me. “I don’t understand. You were happy to do it five minutes ago.”
“Yeah… but my ardor has cooled somewhat since I made you bleed.”
“I’m okay.” She sends me a pleading glance, but I harden my heart.
“Scarlett, it’s not going to happen, not now.”
She looks upset again. “Why not? I want you to.”
“I know, but it’s not right.”
She stares at me. “You’re serious?”
“I am.”
She shifts off me and gets to her feet.
I rise quickly, and we face each other across the gazebo. She stands there defensively, her arms wrapped around her body. The wind blows a sheet of rain across us, and we both shiver.
“I don’t believe this,” she says. Her face has reddened. “We’ve gone this far, why not go all the way?”
“Because a) you’re going to be sore, and b) I don’t want your first time to be in a public place like this.”
“So it would be okay if it was my second time? Or fifth? Tenth? What’s the appropriate number of fucks I need to have had before I advance to public sex?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I understand why you’re angry, but you’ve just admitted I’m your first, and you need to think about how that makes me feel.”
She blinks; she hadn’t considered that at all.
“I’m not a robot,” I tell her. “I hurt you, and it shocked me. We shouldn’t have been having sex anyway, but I got carried away because you’re gorgeous and I was turned on.”
“It’s not nineteen-fifty.”
I chuckle. “No, I know.”
“I hate it,” she says fiercely. “It’s like an anchor weighing me down. Any man I meet would want a girl who knows what she’s doing. I wanted to get rid of it.”
The elated feeling I got when she said she liked and trusted me sinks a little. That might be true, but for her those feelings were just a means to an end. She was attracted to me, and maybe because of my position and status and the fact that I’m respected in the community, she felt she could trust me, and therefore I was a suitable contender to rid herof her innocence. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I feel as if I’ve somehow despoiled a fresh mountain stream by washing my dirty clothes in it.
But I don’t say that. I hold her, lending her my warmth as she shivers and cuddles up close to me.
“You smell nice,” she whispers.
My lips curve up. She lifts her face to look up at me, and I study her mouth, with the beautiful Cupid’s bow, then lower my head to press my lips to hers.
It turns into a smooch, and then she raises an arm around my neck and opens her mouth to slide her tongue against mine.
I lift my head and say, “Whoa.”
She blinks and looks confused. “What?”
“Honey…”
“Don’t stop. Please.”
I summon every ounce of willpower I own and kiss her forehead. “No, love. Not here.”
She moves back a bit and frowns at me. “I don’t understand. You were happy to do it five minutes ago.”
“Yeah… but my ardor has cooled somewhat since I made you bleed.”
“I’m okay.” She sends me a pleading glance, but I harden my heart.
“Scarlett, it’s not going to happen, not now.”
She looks upset again. “Why not? I want you to.”
“I know, but it’s not right.”
She stares at me. “You’re serious?”
“I am.”
She shifts off me and gets to her feet.
I rise quickly, and we face each other across the gazebo. She stands there defensively, her arms wrapped around her body. The wind blows a sheet of rain across us, and we both shiver.
“I don’t believe this,” she says. Her face has reddened. “We’ve gone this far, why not go all the way?”
“Because a) you’re going to be sore, and b) I don’t want your first time to be in a public place like this.”
“So it would be okay if it was my second time? Or fifth? Tenth? What’s the appropriate number of fucks I need to have had before I advance to public sex?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I understand why you’re angry, but you’ve just admitted I’m your first, and you need to think about how that makes me feel.”
She blinks; she hadn’t considered that at all.
“I’m not a robot,” I tell her. “I hurt you, and it shocked me. We shouldn’t have been having sex anyway, but I got carried away because you’re gorgeous and I was turned on.”
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