Ransom (25 page)

I was so slippery from his nimble hands and foreplay that he slid in and out with less pain than I had expected to have had with my first time. I knew it was gross, but as he drove deeper inside me I imagined him penetrating the membrane that branded me untouched. His hands wrapped around my butt as our pelvises pressed together. Quite unexpectedly another mind-blowing feeling of bliss sucked me into the vortex of knowing nothing but the rush of pleasure that surged through me. The sensation built until it crested then finally tossed me over the side into an ocean of everything that felt so very good.
 

Ransom rocked his hips against me, each thrust more intense until he abruptly stopped moving, a shudder ran through him then he finished with muted pumps of his hips until he finally stopped altogether. We were both slick with sweat when he rolled off me. My mind slowly swam back to reality. All I could think was that it was all over, just like that, I wasn’t a virgin anymore. It wasn’t like I had been saving my virginity for my wedding night, it was more like the opportunity hadn’t presented itself thus far. And now that it was over, and I was forever on the other side of the fence, I didn’t feel as different as I had expected I would. I hadn’t known what I had thought it would feel like, but the absolute quiet wasn’t it.

Ransom didn’t say another word, only pulled me in closer until my head was resting against the hard lines of his chest. Moments later his breathing shifted into the steady timbre of sleep. As soon as he had drifted off a fresh fist of reality lodged in my chest, making it tough to breathe. It seemed utterly unthinkable that less than twenty-four hours before I hadn’t known Ransom had even existed, now I had just had sex with him.
 

I pulled away from him and strode to the bathroom. Now that my mind was absolutely clear, I was shocked at what had happened. I knew that I had definitely consented to, been enthusiastic even, to everything that had happened, but I wasn’t sure if I was okay with what I had done. But it was hard to deny that it had been an exhilarating experience, one where I was not left wanting in any shape or form.

“Shit,” I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
 

I expected to somehow look different, of course I didn’t. I glanced down at my body and noticed the trickle of pink on my inner thigh, that looked like the last remnants of my period. I knew that it was real. All of it had been real. Grabbing a handful of tissues I wiped at the part of me that had once been intact and was now just a memory of the girl I had once been. I didn’t want to feel cheap, yet I did, because only tramps would do what I had.

Fatigue, sudden and paralyzing, engulfed me and I couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t beat myself up for my hasty decisions. I needed sleep, and a lot of it but more than sleep I wanted Ransom gone. I knew I wasn’t being fair to him because he hadn’t forced me to do anything, I had jumped on board with him eagerly. Even so, I didn’t want to wake up in the morning and be reminded of what had happened. If I surfaced at sunrise and he was gone I could pretend that it had all been a bad memory, or a very good dream, either way I could forget that I had lost my virginity to a one night stand.
 

I cracked the door of the bathroom enough that the sliver of light that seeped into the darkened room, allowed me to find my panties and bra. Knowing that Ransom would probably be impossible to wake up, I resigned myself to the idea that we were going to have to share the bed. I didn’t take a chance this time, tugging on my jeans and t-shirt. When I laid in the bed next to him I curled up as close to the edge as possible, ensuring that our bodies didn’t touch. I closed my eyes against the pounding headache that was already starting to work into my brain. There was no doubt that everything, including my growing regret, was only going to be much worse in the morning.

I wasn’t sure when I had finally managed to fall asleep only that the next time I woke up, sunlight was seeping in through the parted thick navy curtains. I rolled to my side, half-praying to be alone, but Ransom was still there stark naked on the bed. I didn’t want to admire his nude form, but when a guy looked the way Ransom did, all cut and muscled like a DaVinci sculpture, it was tough not to allow my gaze to linger a whole lot longer than I should have.

Practicality made me check my watch and the time. I was shocked to see that it was 9:00 a.m. I only had a few hours left before Trinity and Aiden were due to pick me up. I hoped that they kept to the plan and came for me at check-out time because the last thing I wanted to do was to have to explain why there was a naked guy in my bed.

I jumped out of bed, paused briefly when all the blood seemed to rush away from my brain, then blushed profusely at the sight of him. I didn’t seem to have an ounce of willpower when it came to ogling Ransom. I hadn’t actually seen that many naked guys before, but even compared to the hot men in the Playgirl mags that Trinity and I used to giggle over, Ransom was one heck of a specimen.

And as if he knew I was watching him he flipped onto his back, exposing every solitary inch of his flesh. I managed to hold onto the gasp that was balanced on the tip of my tongue, because I was still trying to come to terms with the idea that I had actually tapped that. I almost wanted to take a picture of him, so I could remember that it had all been true, I had actually slept with the Greek god in the bed and it had been the most incredible experience of my entire life.
 

With his body completely exposed, my eyes had free range to study every amazing angle of his form. The black tribal tattoos and other symbols that decorated half of his chest and part of his shoulder, hadn’t been visible with his shirt on. It wasn’t like I cared much for tattoos, or guys with them, but they seemed to suit Ransom. I cast my gaze over the swirling black curlicues that ran from the V of his pelvis up the length of his torso and finished in a intricate design around his right nipple. He had a Chinese character just above his navel and a silver barbell glinted in his left nipple.
 

I absently wondered how much it all hurt to get done, I was way too much of a wimp to ever get piercings through any parts of my anatomy other than my earlobes. Trinity had never managed to convince me to get any additional piercings like the ones she brazenly had done. I understood the belly button piercing, but her nipple rings looked positively terrifying. But that was Trinity, always doing the wild and wacky.
 

Scared that he would wake up and catch me gawking at him, I stumbled toward the bathroom. The shower was hot and seemed to sooth the dull ache that clung to every bit of my being. When I washed between my legs the mild tenderness and slight swelling reminded me once more of the night before. And though I didn’t want to think about it, I couldn’t help but sigh when I recalled Ransom’s hands on me and how it had felt. It was as if he had flicked on a switch that had me thinking about sex more than ever before. The guilt was still there, but somehow not as powerful as before.

I took my time in the shower, hoping that when I was finished Ransom would have left already. What had started as a mild headache was now a raging migraine. A trip to the pharmacy for Tylenol was in my future. I combed through the knots in my hair and donned a clean pair of dark blue jeans and a pear-colored tee from the overnight bag, that I had thankfully left on a chair in the bathroom. Finally, after I had wasted as much time as I could, I exited the bathroom, praying that Ransom had already gone.

Of course he hadn’t.
 

At the exact moment I stepped back into the bedroom, Ransom stirred and his eyes opened partially. He seemed to gauge his surroundings for a few moments then he bolted up straight, his eyes wide.

“Tell me we didn’t have sex,” he said abruptly.

To say his comment felt like a sledge hammer to my ego would have been an understatement. I wanted to be mad as hell at what he had said, but I didn’t have it in me. I guessed this was what they called the walk of shame.

“I could tell you we didn’t, but I would be lying,” I said.
 

I felt a lump form in my throat and swallowed over it repeatedly. The terrified expression in his gaze had me feeling like I had been little more than a mindless screw. Someone who seemed pretty good when he’d had his beer goggles on, but who had turned into a horrible reality the morning after. It didn’t take a Masters degree in Astro-science to know that guys like Ransom didn’t hang out with, and especially didn’t have sex with girls like me. Just like Mitch, Ransom was more suited to curvy blondes with fake everything, that were crazy horny in bed, not plain Janes like me.

“Fuck,” he said. His breath hissed between his teeth. “I thought I was dreaming not that I was…” He shook his head.
 

Without warning he was out of the bed and all his man parts, that I had perused with awe moments before, seemed to remind me that what we had done had been nothing more than a very bad mistake. I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut, which probably seemed completely stupid, judging by what we had been up to not long before.

“Are you dressed yet?” I asked, trying to fill the silence that felt oppressive.

“Yeah,” Ransom said.

When I opened my eyes again he was standing just a foot away from me, still buttoning his pants. The original surprise that had lit his eyes had been replaced with what looked a lot like regret. I wasn’t sure if this was a standard reaction after a one night stand, or if the expression was reserved for me alone. He locked his gaze on me, his face was unreadable.

“I’m really sorry that I…I don’t usually sleep with people like you,” he started to say. It was at that very moment that I’d had enough. Regret was one thing but didn’t normal people, kind people even, not let the person they had slept with know that they’d been too drunk to realize what they had been doing. Why couldn’t he just shut his mouth, chalk it up to a mistake and move on without making me feel like shit for ever having been with him.

“I don’t need your apologies. I was there, I participated, you didn’t screw a blow up doll, though from the way you’re looking at me I kind of think you would have preferred that.”

His face brightened and his lips curved into an amused grin. It infuriated me that he actually had the audacity to be laughing at me. That was when I decided that there would be no holds barred anymore and that
people like me,
whatever that meant,
weren’t to be fucked with.

“You know I was quite happy to sleep, I stress the word
sleep
, in the bed next to you, but you were the one groping me in the dark.”

He cocked an eyebrow and his grin turned into a smirk.
 

“From what I remember, you were into it too,” he said.
 

I balled my fists and shook my head.

“You’re a complete asshole,” I hollered, my eyes bulging.

“I never said I wasn’t,” he said in a cool voice that had me wanting to slap the smile from his face.

“You’re right on that point,” I said.

It was probably the lamest thing I had ever said, but what did you say when someone agreed with you when you called them something derogatory. At that very moment I spotted the spent condom at the side of the bed. It was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. I felt cheap and used, and I wanted to escape from it all because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to feel dirty after I had given him something that had been so precious. I didn’t sleep around, but now I felt like a whore that had seduced him into my bed. Ransom was playing a good part in making me feel that way.

“You’re a complete fucker,” I screamed.
 

Then without warning I burst into tears. I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed that he was seeing me like that. I should have been able to keep it together, not have shown him that he had shook me to the core with his offhand comments.

Quite unexpectedly I felt his arms around me, and though I wanted to fight his embrace I needed it more than I wanted to admit.

“Shit Lexie, I didn’t mean…” he whispered against the curve of my neck. I wanted to hate him, kick him in the balls and run for the hills. I clung to his shirt with both hands, unsure where the need to be held had come from, only that it was a force that felt impossible to resist. I felt his hand caress my back and instead of soothing me it made me want to lash out at him, make him feel a tenth of what I was going through. I shoved him away, swatting at the tears that were betraying me.

“I was a virgin you know, and I slept with you, and now you say this shit…”

The rest of my words were lost in heaving sobs. The whole Gabriel Sanders debacle had ripped open my overwhelming feelings of loss that I hadn’t wanted to look at, now it seemed I couldn’t stop feeling everything.

Ransom went pale then his mouth fell open.

“You were a virgin?” he murmured.

I bobbed my head in response, unable to form the words of affirmation through my gulping breaths. In a rapid move he took a few steps back as if I was contagious. His extreme reaction was enough for me to stop crying long enough to take a long hard look at him. If I hadn’t known better I might have said I saw pain in his expression.

“Why didn’t you stop me,” he said. His voice had dropped to barely a whisper.
 

I glared at him, not quite believing that he seemed to be accusing me of doing something that he had more than initiated.

“Are you for real?” I said. “Why is it so difficult for you to accept graciously what happened, why do you have to make me feel like a slut that seduced you?” I said. My voice sounded like it had been sprinkled with shards of glass.

He shook his head viciously, clenching his fists as if he wanted to punch something. I hoped it wasn’t me. This time I was the one to back away.

When he finally spoke, his words stunned me.
 

“Lexie if you
were
a slut I wouldn’t have given a shit what happened between the sheets, but you’re not a slut…”