Part 25 (2/2)

Sounding as sleepy as I am, he pulls me closer and utters drowsily, ”Yeah. Shower. Sure.”

And that's the last thing I hear before everything fades to black.

The sound of the front door closing wakes me. Blinking sleepily, I sit up to glance over at the clock. It reads ten past seven in the morning. Looking down at the empty s.p.a.ce next to me, my heart heavies. It looks like sleeping next to Max is too much for him. I should've known he isn't as into me as I am with him. It's the story of my life, really.

First, there was my first high school boyfriend, Jonathon. I was sixteen. He dated me for three weeks, stealing my first kiss then asking me if I thought my sister, Nat, was into him. When I told her about it, she showed him just how much she liked him. The next day at school, she told everyone he had a teenie weenie winkie. His new nickname from that day on was Midget Digit.

Then, there was Denver. Yes, his name was Denver. My mind chuckles, sighs, and then shakes its head. Just from his name, I should've known he was a douche nugget. We dated senior year for a whole eight months. I was just about to turn eighteen. He did all the right things, said all the right things, he was on the basketball team, and was tall.

I like tall guys, so sue me.

After six months of dating, and five months of being discreetly-or not so discreetly-pressured, I gave it up to him. He was my first. He told me I ruined it, because I cried. But the thing was, it hurt, and he did nothing to prepare me for that. I know we were young, but he knew better; he was just a selfish lover. I figured maybe he was just excited and forgot to warm me up...but with two more month of this, I went to talk to my sisters. Something just didn't feel right.

My sisters were appalled that I put up with this for a whole two months. They told me about the female o.r.g.a.s.m and about how real men treat a woman with care. Nina bought me my first vibrator. She told me to practice masturbating with and without it. She told me my hands are a major factor in s.e.x. This was weird, but I trusted my sisters more than anyone.

My first o.r.g.a.s.m happened with a vibrator, and it was so intense that it felt like I was being electrically shocked. h.e.l.l, it probably looked like I was being shocked. I also threw the vibrator mid-o.r.g.a.s.m against the wall. Hard.

When Nina and Nat asked me how it went, I blushed, showed them the now-broken vibrator, and had to listen as they cried from laughter. I covered my face to hide my smile. d.a.m.n them. Nat explained through her laughter, ”You don't have to have it on high, Lena. There are different settings. Try somewhere in the middle next time. We'll get you another, Bazooka Jane.”

The next night, I tried with just my hand. But it was completely frustrating. I didn't do it long before I stopped. I was rubbing myself raw. I definitely wasn't turned on. I didn't know what I was doing wrong. So I went to my sisters for guidance. The answer was simple, yet so effective.

Nina shrugged. ”I usually just think about someone hot doing things to me.” She turned to Nat. ”What about you?”

Nat smirked. ”Playgirl magazine. Under my mattress. Works every time.” Nat offered to lend me her magazine, but I shuddered. The same hands she used to pleasure herself were used to handle that magazine. So my sisters put me to task. We went down to our local newsstand. They made me, an eighteen-year-old girl, go and ask Giuseppe, a vendor I have known all my d.a.m.n life, for the latest issue of Playgirl magazine.

Thankfully, the elderly vendor didn't even flinch. Although, Nat and Nina stood behind me snickering.

With a shaking hand, I held out the money. He took it with a smile before handing it to me. Just as I was walking away, he called out to me. We all turned to see him coming towards me with a brown paper bag. Slumping in relief, I hid my shameful wh.o.r.e magazine in the depths of that bag and thanked him again.

That night, I tried again, using my reinforcements. It happened. It took longer and it wasn't as intense, but it happened. And, boy, was I proud! I told my sisters and we high-fived after, of course, Nat asked me ten times if I had washed my hands. The a.s.shole.

That was when my sisters told me to start implicating what I had learned into the not-so-great s.e.x I was having with Denver. I wasn't sure about this. I knew Denver well enough to know he didn't like change, but I figured if I were the one making the change while he was able to continue doing his own thing, it wouldn't be an issue.

I was wrong.

It was the following Friday night when Denver and I were able to have some alone time. His parents were going to be at a neighbor's house for a barbecue, and these were normally adult-only events that ran late into the night. We'd have the entire night to ourselves.

Denver was a sweet guy. He could be oblivious, but he treated me well and showered me with affection. The only issue in our relations.h.i.+p was the s.e.x. We made it to his bed, undressed, and started fooling around. When he finally was inside of me, I hesitated, but decided to go for it. My hand slid down my breast to my belly, lower to where I needed it, and Denver stopped thrusting. ”What are you doing?”

I whispered, ”Keep going. It's okay; just keep going.”

But he didn't keep going. ”Where did you learn that?”

I tried to rea.s.sure him once more. ”Please, honey. Keep going.”

That's when I felt him deflate inside of me. My cheeks flushed. This was the opposite of what should have happened! Denver stayed quiet for a long time. I didn't know what to do. He was on top of me. I was being held down. Finally, he sat up, releasing me. I covered my bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. When he spoke again, fury lined his voice. ”I asked you a question, Helena. Where did you learn that?”

I don't know why, but I lied. Panic makes you say and do stupid things. The lie sounded weak, even to me. ”I-um...I read it somewhere in a magazine.”

He wasn't buying it. Not that I was selling it well. He hissed, ”You're cheating on me.”

”What?” Then I was really panicked. ”No! No, I'm not!”

He stood and paced in front of the bed, naked. ”You're lying. You're cheating on me. How else would you know to do that? You'd never been with anyone before me. You're cheating on me.” He paused mid-step then turned to me. ”And you thought I wouldn't find out.” By this point, I was crying my poor little heart out. He didn't care. He pointed at me, furious. ”Get out of my bed. Take your clothes, and get out. We're over.”

As a teenaged blubbering mess, I knelt on the bed and begged. ”Don't say that. I'm not a cheater, I swear! I was just trying to make it good for me!”

And that's where I f.u.c.ked up. I took a teenaged boy's already bruised pride and rubbed salt into the wound by telling him he wasn't a good lover. He stilled, a look of shock crossing his face. A moment pa.s.sed. The look of shock morphed into one of pure derision. ”f.u.c.king wh.o.r.e.” He walked out of the room. I heard the front door open then close. The sound of his car starting made my heart skip a beat.

He'd left me there, naked and alone, crying my eyes out, with no way to get home.

I dressed as quickly as I could, went downstairs, and called Nina to come get me. Of course, she called Nat and told her I was a mess. Nat left the party she was at and came with Nina to pick me up. They took me to a movie theater. We watched a sappy romantic comedy. They tried to mend my broken heart with junk food and affection. They made me laugh when I wanted to cry, and when I did cry, they held me tight, whispering words of rea.s.surance. They told me Denver was just a boy, and when I met a real man, he would appreciate me for who I was, not what he wanted me to be. That he would never be ashamed of me.

There are many reason I love my sisters, but that memory is one I will always cherish.

I had hoped Max would be that man.

I guess I was wrong.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Helena ”Wake up, cupcake,” is whispered into my ear. Groaning, I turn away from the voice and try to go back to sleep. My bed shakes as he chuckles quietly. ”Come on, baby. Wake up. Seeing you in bed makes me want to play with you, but we don't have time. Wake up.”

I turn back around and peek up at him. I mutter roughly, ”You left.” Max smiles down at me. I ask quietly, ”Why did you leave?”

With gentle fingers, he moves hair off of my forehead and explains quietly, ”Well, we got a little crazy last night. My pants were covered in come.” He looks down at me pointedly. ”My own come.”

Oh. So he wasn't trying to sneak out. I can't help but laugh. ”Ah. I see.”

As I hug my pillow tight, he runs a hand over my shoulder and down my arm. ”Yeah, I needed clothes and I was awake, so I went home to shower and change.” He jerks his head to the door. I turn to see a black duffle bag by my closet. He adds, ”I brought spares.”

He brought spares.

He brought spares? Next thing you know, he'll have his own toothbrush here!

Holy h.e.l.l, this is moving too fast.

He stands and walks over to the bathroom. ”Bought a toothbrush on the way.”

My eyes snap open. Panic fills me. Okay. I'm officially freaking out here. Sitting up in my bed, I ask, ”Really? You think you'll need one? I mean, do you think you'll be staying here a lot?”

Not at all sensing my alarm, he calls back from the bathroom, ”Uh, yeah, I think so. I mean, you'll be coming to the club every Sat.u.r.day. We'll go home together, sleep here, and then we'll go get Ceecee and do breakfast on Sundays.” He walks back into the room and sits next to me on the bed. ”Oh, and my mom wants you to come to dinner tomorrow night.”

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