Page 47 of By Sin To Atone

“A virginity test? What the hell even is that?”

“Something you don’t need to worry about as I’ve already established, you’re a virgin. Which, honestly, is surprising in this day and age?—”

“Fuck off.”

He grins. “Women within The Society are required to remain virgins until marriage. The test is standard.”

“Well, that’s very modern of you.”

“We’re not a modern society.”

“I’m not a part of your creepy little society.”

“But you will play by my rules since you inserted yourself into my life.”

I open my mouth to argue, close it again and shake my head. “Wait, so you want to be sure I’m clean and you’re protected?” I ask, pointing from myself to him.

“Correct.”

“What about me? I mean, out of the two of us, I think I’m the one who should be worried about picking up some STD, don’t you? I mean, not that I’ve agreed to making love with you.”

He snorts. “Just to be clear, we’ll be fucking. There will be no love making.”

“I didn’t mean—” I start, embarrassed, but he cuts me off.

“Specifically, I’ll be fucking you. I’ll expect your submission.”

Once again, I’m grateful he’s such a prick. “You’re quite the romantic,” I say, trying again for flippant.

“I’m not going for romantic. That’s part of the arrangement I mentioned last night. Before we got… off track.”

He smirks.

I grit my teeth. “You offered your protection for the information I have.”

“I guess I’m amending.” He casually shrugs a shoulder. “Anyway, back to what I was saying, you’re safe from me. For the moment.” He steps toward the bed. I lean backward, tug the duvet higher because there’s something in his eyes that makes my stomach feel like a thousand moths have taken flight. And he must see it. “But let’s get clear on something. What you told me last night, what you want, it doesn’t change anything, not for us. It just makes this a little more complicated. Now get dressed. We’re on a schedule.”

“I’m not?—”

“I’m sure your sister would hate to miss your visit,” he says, checking his watch as he walks to the door. “Get dressed.”

“This conversation isn’t over.” He shrugs a shoulder and he’s out in the hallway. “Wait! I need to stop at the apartment and pick up Wren’s gift.” He sighs. “I’ll be quick. And it’s on the way.”

“That’s up to you and how quickly you’re up and we’re out.”

“You are such a jerk.”

“Time waits for no man.”

I flip him off, but he doesn’t see it because he’s long gone. I hurry to get dressed, brush my teeth and wash my face, finger combing my hair. It’s wavy and falls into place fairly easily, especially short as it is. I head downstairs and hear Zeke talking to a woman and I see Cynthia, the cook from last night, in the kitchen. She smiles at me when she sees me.

“Good morning,” I say, trying to be friendly. “Whatever you’re making smells wonderful.”

“Morning,” she says with a smile, although I see how her eyes dip to the chain hanging off the collar still around my neck. I casually wrap my hand around my throat to hide it. “I’m making omelets. Any dietary restrictions?”

I look at Zeke, who is drinking coffee, then turn back to Cynthia. “I eat everything. Thanks, Cynthia. I’m Blue, by the way.” She smiles again. “Aren’t you eating?” I ask Zeke.

“I’ve been up for a while.”