Page 38 of Midnight Enemy

She nods, then gives another shy smile.

I lift up, extract my wallet from my back pocket, and take out a condom. She’s looking at my jeans, her eyes wide as she stares at my erection.

Opening my arms, palms up, I say, “You want to do it?”

Her eyebrows rise. Then she quickly starts unbuttoning my jeans. Carefully, she slides the zipper over my erection, her lips parting in wonder as it protrudes through the opening, coated in the black cotton of my boxer-briefs, eager for action.

I hold the condom out to her, but she shakes her head, so I take off the wrapper, push my underwear down, and roll the condom on.

Next I slide her dress up her thighs, exposing her to the summer air, and exhale at the sight of her smooth light-brown and pink skinglistening with her moisture. Lowering a hand between her legs, I slip my thumb down to make sure she’s lubricated, and pause to circle it over her clit, making her moan. I guide the tip of my erection down to her entrance. Then I lean back over her, a hand on either side of her shoulders.

“You’re sure?” I say again. I feel kinda dizzy, high on lust, my heart racing, blood speeding around my body at a million miles an hour, pooling in my groin and making my erection rock hard. The breeze sweeps a layer of rain across us, but neither of us reacts.

She moistens her lips, then nods. Fuck me, she’s so beautiful. Consumed by lust, I lower onto my elbows and kiss her deeply, and at the same I push my hips forward and bury myself inside her.

“Ow!” She jerks and squeals, an involuntary action that startles me and makes me stop in alarm. We stare into each other’s eyes for five seconds, and I register her horrified face before I lift up, sit back on my heels, and ease myself out of her.

There’s blood on the condom.

For a moment I can’t think straight. My brain spins like a centrifuge, flinging thoughts to all corners of my mind. In the end, all I can come up with is: “You’re a virgin?”

She covers her mouth with a hand and bursts into tears.

“What the hell?” Anger flares inside me as I strip off the condom and shove it in my pocket, stuff myself back into my underwear, and zip up my jeans. I yank down her dress. “What’s going on? Did the commune send you here to seduce me?” Scenarios flit through my head like bats—of George and his cronies sacrificing her virginity in a scene reminiscent ofThe Wicker Manbecause they want me to pay more for the Waiora.

But Scarlett shakes her head, tears pouring down her face. “I liked you,” she says through her sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m twenty-four. I didn’t think it would hurt.” She moves back against the bench that looks out over the pool, wraps her arms around her knees, rests her forehead on them, and cries.

Slowly, my anger dissipates like mist. Ah…shit.

“Hey…” I move to sit beside her, then put an arm around her shoulders and try to pull her toward me. She resists, her body stiff and unyielding. “I’m so sorry I got angry,” I murmur. “Come here, honey. It’s okay.”

Eventually she lets me lift her onto my lap, and she curls up there and cries into her hands while I hold her.

“Shhh.” I rub her back. “It’s all right.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, sweetheart. But why didn’t you tell me?”

She tries to wipe her face, which is pointless because we’re both wet from the rain and she’s crying too much. “I thought you wouldn’t want to if you knew.”

I frown, cradling her as if she’s a wounded animal. “Well, you’re right, I wouldn’t have, but only because your first time should be in a comfortable bed with someone you like and trust.”

“I like you,” she says. “I trust you. That’s why I wanted to do it.”

I’m so taken aback, I don’t know what to say.

I rest my lips on the top of her head and hold her as her sobs turn to snuffles.

“I can’t believe you’re still a virgin,” I murmur.

“Well, I’m not now.”

“You know what I mean. You’re beautiful and warm and funny. How have you got to twenty-four and not had sex? Are you not allowed in the commune? Do they make you wait until you’re married?”

She shakes her head, wiping her face again. “No. There’s just nobody there I like, and I don’t get out much.”

I think about how it must have been for her, isolated in the small community, and not attracted to any of the limited number of young guys in there. It’s a world away from my teenage years at university. My lifestyle was a lot more conservative than some, but there were still nightclubs and parties and a scattering of girlfriends.

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