Page 16 of Sorrow

I stare at him, hoping he realizes how ridiculous he sounds. I can’t stay here, I can’t go there. I don’t have all the money in the world. There’s a little left in my savings from the job I had in high school and my parents’ life insurance policies, but not enough to rent something in a better part of town for longer than a couple of months.

Not that thereisa better part of town.

“What’s your suggestion then?” I challenge. “I should just start dealing coke like you do?”

“Don’t talk about shit you don’t understand,” he snaps. “Fucking narc. I also work every day, but of course you only choose to throw daggers about the one I can’t claim for taxes. What do you do again?”

I almost laugh. “I’m not a narc. I pointed that out because I can’t do ridiculously intricate custom woodworking like you do for your day job. But fuck me for trying to compliment you, right?”

“That was your idea of a compliment?” He scoffs. “I know you’re a virgin, but woodwork isn’t as hard as it seems. Maybegive it a try. Or I can give you an 8 ball and see if you can move it.”

Again, I think it would just be easier to hook Nate and get the fuck out. I could get a real job somewhere else — a town with actual restaurants and more than one general store. The desire to leave burns in my gut until the dumbest thing I’ve ever said comes out of my mouth. “Or you can quit making fun of me for being a virgin and just teach me how to fuck so Nate will get me out of here. Win/win.”

“Win/win for who?” He pushes his plate of food away and braces his elbows on the table. It’s strange to have his full attention, even overwhelming, but I don’t budge. I couldn’t take the words back if I wanted to. “You want me to fuck you, Hurricane?”

“No, I want you to teach me how to fuck Nate Jackson,” I correct, even though the butterflies in my stomach say otherwise. “It’s a win/win because you get rid of me for good if we succeed.”

“So you want me to teach you how to please a man?” There’s a wicked glint to his smirk before he shakes his head no and starts eating again. “How do you think Boo would take that?”

I don’t imagine he’d like it very much. He probably thinks Hayes is too good for me, and if he figured out why I want to learn, he’d try to stop me anyway. He's made it clear that neither one of us is ever getting out.

But what he doesn’t know can’t hurt me. “Boo isn’t here overnight.”

I swear I see a war raging in his eyes that keeps me from predicting his response. It’s like he isn’t even tasting his food as he stares down at his plate and eats, but every so often, those dark eyes flick up to me before settling back on his chicken. “Are you on birth control?”

He frowns like that isn’t what was supposed to come out of his mouth, and now I’m afraid I’m dead in the water.

“No, I’m... not.”

There isn’t any reason for it.

“What have you done? Have you ever been kissed?”

Every inch of me wants to lie. But if he’s going to help me, really help me, he needs to know what he’s working with. And after all, I don’t care what he thinks of me. If this works, I’ll never see him again. “No. I’ve never done anything at all but make myself come.”

His fist tightens around his fork as a look overtakes him I can’t place. Is it excitement? Dread? Something in between? “How do you usually do that?”

God, I don’t want to have this conversation with him. I don’t want to do this at all. The more I look at him, the more I picture him touching me and teaching me and guiding me... my clit throbs. I do want him. I hate him, but god, I want this.

Which is exactly why I shouldn’t let him anywhere near me.

“I don’t have any toys, so... usually just free porn and my fingers.”

He isn’t even eating anymore. All of his attention is on me like he’s having the exact same thoughts I am. He shouldn’t even be entertaining this conversation, and yet... “What kind of porn?”

I feel the heat rush back into my cheeks. I’m acutely aware of how narrow this table is, how close we are. His knee brushes against mine. “Is that relevant?”

“Yes. If you want me to teach you things, I have to know which way to go. Do you usually watch people make love? Or should I focus more on teaching you how to take my cock deep in your throat?”

Fuck. My fork clatters to the table and I nearly spill my drink trying to grab it. I’m not cut out for this, not with him.

Come on, Samara. Act like a man. They talk about this shit all the time. “The second one. Nate said he likes to be rough.”

“Rough?” he repeats. “Doubt that pretty boy knows what rough is beyond shoving his cock inside someone with no foreplay.” Hayes holds out his finger and meets my gaze challengingly. “Suck. Show me what you got.”

Absolutely the fuck not.

The heat in my cheeks heads downward and pools in my stomach, because I know exactly what that is. It’s not sex, it’s submission.

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