Page 20 of Sweet Virgin

Chapter Six

Alaska

The sheets were tangled around my waist, coiling my upper thighs. Shimmying my hips, I freed myself from the choking cotton holding me down. Rolling to my side, I noticed that he wasn't laying next to me—not anymore.

Glancing around, Kealen wasn't in my bed and he wasn't in his. The bathroom door was open, but the light was off. Sitting up on my hands, I yawned really big and rubbed my eyes.

The room was dark, the curtains were drawn tight and not a glimmer of sun was coming through. I still felt warm and fuzzy from the night before, the weight of his tongue against my pussy was draped over my mind like a hot shadow.

It was incredible, he was incredible. The taste of his cock was sitting in the back of my throat, the sweet nectar highlighted every swallow. Smiling to myself, I stretched my legs and stood up.

Where is he?

Strolling around the bed, I started towards the bathroom, then stopped in my tracks. Twisting rapidly on my toes, I searched the floor and all the dark corners for his stuff. But it was empty.

Bolting to the door, I threw it open and looked up and down the walkway. Nothing. Leaning out the door like I might be able to see better, my foot kicked something light. A newspaper was sitting on the mat, the blue plastic that kept it dry and sealed from any disruption was blowing gently as an ocean breeze swept in catching the loose end.

Bending down, I swiped it off the ground and stepped back into the room. Closing the door, I fiddled with the paper, trying to make sense of it all.

He was gone. Not a trace of him was left in the room. I stood shocked and dumbfounded. The room was so quiet I jumped as the toilet made some strange sound, turning the eerie silence into a shit storm of questions.

Are you kidding me!

Are you fucking kidding me!

Why didn't he wake me up before he decided to ditch me?

Why did I let myself get wrapped up in a guy I just met?

Snapping my hands to my hips, I dragged my fingers through my hair and just gazed off into nothing. We didn't have sex, we didn't pour out our hearts and souls and promise our lives to each other. But I still felt something, and I felt as though he should have told me he was leaving.

Maybe he didn't want you to know.

Maybe this was his plan the whole time.

I had this sickening feeling of being used crawl up into my gut. Holding my belly, I walked in between the two beds and let the bag fall loosely in one hand. The paper slipped free, spilling open like a carton of knocked over milk. The edges rolled smoothly, flattening against the rug.

There was no mistaking the headline, no question in my mind that the dick-wad reporter had taken full advantage of what happened the day before. There it was, written in larger than life, bold black print:Vengeful Virgin Takes Swing At Local Reporter.

Cupping my head in my hands, I scraped my fingers down my face in frustration. My picture was plastered under the title, my arm in motion towards the guy's face.

I didn't remember seeing a flash or anyone with a camera around us. But that didn't matter now, the damage was done.

He knows who I am.

Maybe he knew all along. . . Did he use me to get a headline of his own?

Anger started to coarse through my veins, my blood curdled to tar, thickening and hardening my muscles. My father, that show, it had ruined any existence I tried to carve out for myself.

Dropping down to the edge of the bed, I let my body fall backwards. The mattress bounced as the springs creaked under my weight. Flipping to my side, I curled my legs in and tugged the blankets up to my face. I wasn't going to cry, I hated crying.

But I felt this heavy weight on my chest as my eyes tried desperately to fill and the tears tried to steal me away.

I thought I felt something and I thought he had too. Obviously, I was wrong.

His minty pine scent rolled in with each breath, mingling with fabric softener. I hated myself for being so insane, for believing that my gut was telling me there was something there.

Letting out a loud grumble, I threw the blanket away, letting my arms fall limp and dangle over the edge.

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