Page 28 of Ex-SEAL Bad Boy

I’m near tears.

He drove me here, so I had to call an Uber to come get me. I am not going to stoop to asking him to drive me home.

I expect him to come out and apologize, but no such luck.

What is it about guys? They act like they’re not interested—until they are. Then, they pursue you until they wear you down. Then once they have you, they treat you like shit. It’s like they have a split personality or something.

And they say women are complicated.

The sun sets when I arrive home, and I walk less than a block to the beach. It’s always been an excellent place to think. The constant roar of the surf provides a background of white noise, usually sufficient to drown out the voices in my head.

The thing is, I am emotionally invested in the plight of this young woman we are supposedly trying to help. I think a lot of young women can relate.

A lot of girls, myself included, have experienced a pregnancy scare when they’re still in school. It’s terrifying.

Your first thought is, what are you going to tell your parents? But then you shift to wondering how you will take care of it. Are you going to keep it? Are you going to put it up for adoption? Are you going to try to raise your baby yourself?

So many thoughts swirling around in such a young mind.

I’m still willing to help—if what Ethan told me is even real.

Neither of us has said anything to Liam yet. He’s neck-deep in a release for their next game, so he’s been working long hours. It is probably best not to stress him further with the news that his best friend is banging his little sister. He’ll find out soon enough.

I wonder if Ethan is beginning to change and become more decent and sensitive to others. The signs are there, but today, I’m just not sure.

I lie awake, wondering if it was all worth it.

If nothing else, Ethan is responsible for one thing I will always be appreciative of.

He awakened something in me that I never realized was there.

Sex had always been pleasurable, a fun way to spend an afternoon, but with Ethan, it was different. He took it to an entirely different level.

Sure, I had read the trashy novels that spoke about sex with such reverence and occasionally dreamt that such things existed, but that was all just fantasy, right?

To be involved in one’s own pleasure, so much so that everything else disappears.

Ethan has shown me that is possible.

Although I haven’t attended church in years, the old Catholic guilt is still strong, it’s hard to come to terms with the idea that I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of.

Getting out of bed, I wander over to my desk, not thinking of anything in particular, when I notice a glint of white peeking out from behind it.

Reaching down, I withdraw an old acrylic painting I had done years ago.

I had begun painting in my freshman year of college, more to pass the time than anything else. I hadn’t painted anything in years. I don’t think I have a talent for it.

As I examine the old work with new eyes, I realize it’s not all that bad. The seascape of the beach down the street is actually pretty good.

Maybe it was just that I had been overthinking things at the time, trying too hard for perfection rather than enjoying my success.

Then, it hits me like a thunderbolt!

That has to be it. That’s the difference between a great lover and a so-so lover. What makes Ethan so much better in bed than anyone I had ever been with?

It’s imagination and the willingness to be free. To make love without filters, to refuse to be bound by expectations. If it comes to mind, do it.

I mean, who really would have thought to use a violin bow as a sex toy? But why not?

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