Chapter 10

ten

Wrenlee

Can one lose her virginity by being fingered? Google says not technically. The hymen can be broken by fingers, yes, among a myriad of other things like tampons and even bike riding (who knew) but the woman remains a virgin until sex.

I’m relieved, even though I feel oddly sad to have crossed that line with Cash. I can admit I’m not the usual. Virginity really isn’t that big a deal in the twenty-first century where sex is given freely and often. But for some reason, I’m clinging to mine. Okay, I’m not clinging to it. It’s not this thing I’m possessive of—but I’ve always wanted to give it to the man who would be my husband. It’s an antiquated desire in no way born from religious recommendation. It’s just my want for myself, to learn only one man in such an intimate way.

I feel as though I’ve betrayed myself by letting things spiral so out of control with Cash.

I’d been freaked when I’d come down from my very first orgasm. It had shaken me down to my very core.

When I’d cleaned myself up to find a muted stain of red on the tissue, I’d lost it.

I still feel the sharp sting of regret, knowing I gave something to a man who doesn’t care about me at all. For him, none of this is real. He won’t remember taking that from me—claiming it for himself. But I will.

Hell, I don’t even think he knows what I gave him. What he claimed.

The morning after, he’d looked at me like he always looked at me.

It’s Thursday now. We’ve gone through the week like roommates, hardly talking. With class, he’s busy and so am I.

I’d been surprised to find Cash was taking courses at the same university, studying business. Unlike me, who still has another few years of studying, Cash will be finished this year. We’ve had nothing but polite, roomy, friendly conversations since the awkward morning after.

I keep waiting for him to end this insanity and kick me out. My nerves buzz on constant high alert, and I’m exhausted. On top of taking more bills and attending class, I worked Monday, Wednesday, and am currently on the clock. This city never sleeps. It’s currently eleven o’clock, and I’ve got another three hours to go before I can clock out. I won’t fall into bed until just after three in the morning and I’ll be up again by six.

I’m going to die.

Dropping my hands on the bar, Addy peers at me. “You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, really. You look unwell. Shadows under your eyes, pale. You need to sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Both hands land on the bar. “Anyone with half a brain can see you’re running yourself dry.” She heaves a heavy, verging on annoyed, sigh. “Go. Home.”

My heart drops all the way into my feet. My lip quivers. “You’re firing me?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I want to. I should. But no.”

“I need the hours.” I hate the desperation in my voice. Why does life suck so much? Being a kid all cozy and safe at home doesn’t prepare you for the great big, cruel world. It’s harsh out here. Cold and unforgiving and so very exhausting.

“I’ll pay you the night.” Addy surprises me. “Just go to bed.”

My body begins to buckle, and I have to cling to the bar to keep myself upright. I don’t even have the energy to fight her to save face. I just murmur, “Thank you.”

Visions of my bed in Cash’s condo float through my mind like visions of food might taunt a starving person. I’m blinking in and out of awareness, my exhaustion is so extreme. Still, as soon as I see him, my nerves are hit with enough adrenaline that my mind sharpens.

Cash is leaning against the wall outside the staff room, looking like a dark devil in head-to-toe black. He has one lazy foot hooked behind the other, large arms folded over a broad chest.

My heart skips as dark eyes pin on me. “What are you doing here?”

“Better question is what are you doing here?”

I frown. “What?”

“Thought we talked about this?”

I blink. “About what?”

“About you quitting.”

Oh, that. I nod slowly, considering my response. “We did, but…”

“But what?”

“But I wasn’t sure after—I wasn’t sure you’d, um, keep me.”

Shadows cross through his eyes. “You thought I’d kick you out because I finger fucked you?”

I flinch, unable to look at him. The man is always so crass.

Folding my arms over my chest, I try not to sound as small as I feel. “I wasn’t sure.”

He kicks off the wall, moving into my space in that way he does. My breath snags in my lungs and I back up until I’m the one with my back against the wall and Cash is hovering over me, the scent of him invading my lungs.

When he grips my chin between finger and thumb, forcing my gaze to his, my entire body trembles.

He speaks for only me to hear. “We’re doing this, Kitten. If it makes you feel better, I’ll draw up a contract promising you’ll have a roof over your head for the next year.” My lips part, but his thumb slides up my chin to cover my mouth, shushing me without words. “But you walk that sweet ass back out there and tell Addy you’re done.”

“Cash…” Emotion clogs my throat and I slump back into the wall as his big hand moves to cup the side of my face. His thumb caresses me gently. The man is so hard, so rough he feels like violence, but every time he’s touched me it’s been gentle. It’s a breaking kind of contradiction, beautifully painful.

“Kitten.”

“I should fight this. I’m putting myself at risk for this—for you. I can’t afford to live if I lose this job.” I deflate, too exhausted to think rationally.

“No risk.”

I argue, “All risk.”

“I promise you; I will take care of you. No matter what.”

A shudder leaves my lungs at his words. My mind is warring with my desire to fall into this delusion of peace he’s offering me, very aware that words mean nothing in the grand scheme. He could pull out of this deal at any moment. I’m the one with everything on the line.

“I’m so afraid. And I’m so—” the word cracks on a sob. “So tired.”

Dark eyes search mine. “Do you trust me to take care of you?”

“No.”

Smoke and shadow dance deep within his eyes. This man is pulling me in, pulling me under. It’s a wonder I’m not even gasping for air. “You will.”

I don’t expect it when he tips his head forward and presses his mouth to mine. It’s the second time he’s kissed me, with no one there for the show. Unlike the first time he kissed me with the dominance of a man far beyond my experience, this time is gentle. A soft, assuring sweep of warm lips against mine.

I suck in air, tasting him in my lungs. Cigar smoke and cinnamon hearts and everything dark.

“Cash,” I protest. “This isn’t real.”

“Let me in, Kitten,” he urges in reply, teeth nipping at my bottom lip. “Let me taste you.”

I don’t know how he does this to me, awakening me like this. All flame.

“I can’t.” My hands curl into his chest and I push. Desperation builds inside me as I try and fail to make sense of this man who studies me now. Who pushed his way into my life and turned it all upside down.

I’m the first to speak, “You keep doing that.”

His eyes never leave me. “Doing what?”

“Kissing me when there’s no one around to see it.”

He brings a hand up, sliding the side of his thumb over his bottom lip. “Practice.”

I’m lost. “For what?”

“For when we need it to look real in front of someone else. I can’t have you jumping out of your skin every time I touch you, kiss you, in front of other people. I do it while we’re alone, it’ll start feeling natural.”

Well, that makes sense. “Okay.”

“Go get your bag.” He takes a single step back, giving me the space to escape him. “Meet me at the bar.”

“Why?” I don’t have the energy for drinks tonight. I never drink, but I did that night at Club Violet and look what happened.

“I’m driving you home.”

I think my body sighs with relief. No bus tonight. No walking in the dark in the cold—just a warm ride and bed. Again, I agree, “Okay.”

With that, Cash turns and strolls back into the club where loud music from another live band plays. This time, it’s a girl band—and even in my tired state—I can admit they’re crushing it.