Black(16)

“Yes, my Elle?” He strung the words out ever so slowly, driving me mad with his teasing as he added another finger, stroking at my entrance, so close to plunging inside and making me his forever.

“I-I’m a virgin.”





Eleven

Maxwell

A swift pounding slammed into my frontal lobe like I’d been smacked with a baseball bat. A sledgehammer. A fucking axe. I jumped from the bed, feeling like her skin had lit mine on fire, and getting as far away from her as humanly possible was necessary to my very survival. My eyes held hers as I landed against the opposite wall, her mouth frozen in an innocent O, her eyes glazed with the sexiest shade of lust I’d ever seen.

She seemed to finally catch herself and quickly twisted my sheet around her naked body.

“Christ,” I uttered and pushed a hand through my hair, feeling like I might collapse right here on the wood floor. This would never work. A glaring age difference, and…a virgin? I couldn’t be trusted with that. That was too much pressure, too much pain, too much everything.

My hands began to tremble, and before she could see me fall into breakdown mode, I turned the corner and hid in my master bath, slamming the door with a resounding crack.

A virgin.

Oh Jesus Christ, I’d just slammed the door on a naked virgin in my bed. So much for playing nice with her feelings.

I groaned before sucking in a quick breath and looking at myself in the mirror. The ravaged scar screamed back at me. How could anyone see past that? It was the only thing I saw when I looked at me. And why hadn’t she asked me yet? It usually took exactly two meetings before a stranger felt comfortable enough to ask me about the jagged blade that’d eaten up my flesh. That was why I didn’t like to hang around for the second meeting.

But Elle was different. The second I’d locked eyes with her, the earth fell out from under my feet and she’d become my axis. My thing to protect. I could feel it. And I think she could too, she just didn’t know what it looked like yet. Because she was a twenty-one year-old virgin.

I grunted and opened the door, my thick-skulled mind shocked to find my bed empty. Well, why wouldn’t she run, idiot?

“Elle!” I called as I bolted down the hallway, eager to make it right as soon as I could. Damn, I was messing this all up with her.

I saw the apartment door standing open, her shoes and bag gone. I took the stairs two at a time and found her just as she was twisting the doorknob that led out the main entry and into the street. “You’re not leaving,” I heaved as I finally caught her. She turned and her gaze caught fire with mine. “I mean, please don’t leave,” I corrected lamely.

“No way. Not a chance.” She bit her lip and I saw tears swelling in her big brown eyes. God, no. I’d really hurt her feelings.

“I’m sorry.” I pulled her into my arms, my hands at her cheeks, forcing her to look me in the eye. “I was so fucking worried about myself I didn’t even think about you. I promise it won’t happen again. You’re the only thing that matters to me; protecting you, keeping you, being with you.” I uttered the last part with sincerity resonating in my voice and my gaze. Her eyes flooded a little more then and she had to close them to keep the tears at bay. I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket and wiped at the salt water hovering at her lashes.

“I shouldn’t have told you,” she finally said in stubborn defiance.

“Not a chance in hell, baby. I’m glad you told me. It’s good you told me. Now I can do this right.” I threaded my fingers through her hair and clasped her neck, pulling her to me and taking her in a soft kiss, one that hopefully conveyed my apology more than my simple words ever could. “Come back.” I locked her fingers with my own and, with our lips still attached, walked her with me up the steps of my building. “Stay the night?” I asked, ready to make it up to her in so many more ways. In all the ways she deserved for her first time.

Her tired chuckle warmed my insides and I knew that this was the right decision. “I can’t. I don’t have a change of clothes.” She sniffed, but her smile was bright as her hand stayed clasped with mine. She forgave easily. I was glad. That would be important because I was the dumb ass on this relationship learning curve.

“You won’t need clothes,” I said simply, my cocky grin lifting as we ascended the stairs, although this time, her hand was clasped with mine, and this time, I trailed behind her, my other hand pressed at the dip of her waist.

She was a virgin, and I was her beast, but at least I had a chance to give her the first time she deserved.





Twelve