emptied, he rested all of his weight on the arm against the wall, holding him up.
Sweating and panting together, her head was resting next to his arm, eyes tightly closed as the sensations flowed over her. I’ve wanted him for so long. Opening her eyes to see his face, she saw that he was looking down as he pulled out of her. Waiting for him to say something profound or romantic, she wanted him to look into her eyes.
“God, that was a mistake,” came the agonized words.
His words slapped her with cold as if she were standing in the storm outside. Pushing against him, she slid out of his arms as she looked to see her virgin blood on his cock. A mistake? If she thought the idea of being alone in the world was the worst pain, she realized she had just slipped even deeper into agony.
Tears welled in her eyes as she ran into the bedroom, slamming and locking the door. Lying on the bed, she felt the sobs overtake her as the realization that the most perfect moment in her life up to now was only a mistake to the one man that she ever cared about.
*
Stunned, Tony stood in the hallway trying to process what had just happened. Fuck, that wasn’t what I meant.
Stepping to the bedroom door, he pounded as he called out, “Sherrie. You took that the wrong way. I didn’t mean that it was a mistake. Not what we did. Well…it was, but not how you think. I just meant that it was wrong. No, not wrong. Just done the wrong way. But that’s my fault.” No sound came from the room, other than the sound of heartbreak.
Resting his head on the door, he said, “Sherrie, nothing’s coming out right. Please don’t cry. Let me explain, but let me do it face to face.”
Nothing.
Moving to the bathroom, he washed the blood and semen off and then pulled his pants back up. Washing his hands in the sink, he looked into the mirror. You’re a royal fuck-up. When the hell did that happen? You just took a virgin up against the wall. Without a condom. Jesus, fuck.
Stepping back into the room, he saw her pajamas and panties on the floor. Bending to pick them up, he was filled with shame. Another emotion he had not felt in a long time. Jesus, I’ve broken the record on the number of new emotions in one day for me. All because of her. One petite, blonde with a curvy body and a personality that pulled him in. Or rather pulled himself out of his constant morose mood.
Deciding she needed time to cry and possibly plan his demise, he walked back to the window looking out over the front yard. The snow was still swirling, his SUV now as covered as hers. His gaze expertly took in the room once again, this time landing on the stone fireplace and the pile of wood stacked nearby. Starting a fire, he felt the warmth in the blaze as he rubbed his chest, wishing the tightness to go away.
*
Lying across the bed, tears spent, Sherrie stared up at the ceiling. Shame filled her belly as she wiped her wet cheeks. How could I have read the signals so wrong? Ruefully, she acknowledged her inexperience. From the time she was fifteen years old, she had witnessed Charisse’s sexual escapades. Her sister used sex as a way to escape. And to score drugs. And as power. Hell, she used sex for everything except love. Sherrie decided early on that her body would only be given to someone special. All those nights spent waiting on drunk customers while trying to keep an eye on her sister when she was stripping, made her an expert at seeing men at their worst. It only made her more determined to find her hero. The first time she had looked into those caramel eyes when he rescued her she knew she had found a good man. A good friend. Someone she could fall in love with.
And now, with her virgin’s blood spilled, her hero had called her a mistake.
Sitting up in the bed so that she could breathe with her stuffed nose, she swung her legs over the side grabbing a tissue. Blowing her nose and wiping her eyes, she glanced out of the window. The night was black, no moonlight
Sweating and panting together, her head was resting next to his arm, eyes tightly closed as the sensations flowed over her. I’ve wanted him for so long. Opening her eyes to see his face, she saw that he was looking down as he pulled out of her. Waiting for him to say something profound or romantic, she wanted him to look into her eyes.
“God, that was a mistake,” came the agonized words.
His words slapped her with cold as if she were standing in the storm outside. Pushing against him, she slid out of his arms as she looked to see her virgin blood on his cock. A mistake? If she thought the idea of being alone in the world was the worst pain, she realized she had just slipped even deeper into agony.
Tears welled in her eyes as she ran into the bedroom, slamming and locking the door. Lying on the bed, she felt the sobs overtake her as the realization that the most perfect moment in her life up to now was only a mistake to the one man that she ever cared about.
*
Stunned, Tony stood in the hallway trying to process what had just happened. Fuck, that wasn’t what I meant.
Stepping to the bedroom door, he pounded as he called out, “Sherrie. You took that the wrong way. I didn’t mean that it was a mistake. Not what we did. Well…it was, but not how you think. I just meant that it was wrong. No, not wrong. Just done the wrong way. But that’s my fault.” No sound came from the room, other than the sound of heartbreak.
Resting his head on the door, he said, “Sherrie, nothing’s coming out right. Please don’t cry. Let me explain, but let me do it face to face.”
Nothing.
Moving to the bathroom, he washed the blood and semen off and then pulled his pants back up. Washing his hands in the sink, he looked into the mirror. You’re a royal fuck-up. When the hell did that happen? You just took a virgin up against the wall. Without a condom. Jesus, fuck.
Stepping back into the room, he saw her pajamas and panties on the floor. Bending to pick them up, he was filled with shame. Another emotion he had not felt in a long time. Jesus, I’ve broken the record on the number of new emotions in one day for me. All because of her. One petite, blonde with a curvy body and a personality that pulled him in. Or rather pulled himself out of his constant morose mood.
Deciding she needed time to cry and possibly plan his demise, he walked back to the window looking out over the front yard. The snow was still swirling, his SUV now as covered as hers. His gaze expertly took in the room once again, this time landing on the stone fireplace and the pile of wood stacked nearby. Starting a fire, he felt the warmth in the blaze as he rubbed his chest, wishing the tightness to go away.
*
Lying across the bed, tears spent, Sherrie stared up at the ceiling. Shame filled her belly as she wiped her wet cheeks. How could I have read the signals so wrong? Ruefully, she acknowledged her inexperience. From the time she was fifteen years old, she had witnessed Charisse’s sexual escapades. Her sister used sex as a way to escape. And to score drugs. And as power. Hell, she used sex for everything except love. Sherrie decided early on that her body would only be given to someone special. All those nights spent waiting on drunk customers while trying to keep an eye on her sister when she was stripping, made her an expert at seeing men at their worst. It only made her more determined to find her hero. The first time she had looked into those caramel eyes when he rescued her she knew she had found a good man. A good friend. Someone she could fall in love with.
And now, with her virgin’s blood spilled, her hero had called her a mistake.
Sitting up in the bed so that she could breathe with her stuffed nose, she swung her legs over the side grabbing a tissue. Blowing her nose and wiping her eyes, she glanced out of the window. The night was black, no moonlight
Similar Books
