Page 16 of Our Shattered Pieces
Now, while I was positive that I couldn’t do the whole threesome thing, I knew how to use toys to enhance the experience. With Tamara, there had been plenty of times when I’d double penetrate her using her favorite dildo. I was pretty sure we hadn’t left anything to the imagination other than threesomes. And while I hadn’t been in love with her, I wasn’t about sharing. I never have been.
So, I had a lot of issues I needed to work though, and counseling hadn’t seemed that bad of an idea when my parents had finished with me.
Because I knew I needed help.
And what were the odds of finding another woman who could separate what we did in the bedroom with how I respected her out of it? Women were taught to be modest and worthy. Sure, there were plenty of half-naked girls on the internet these days, making tons of money. But a woman controlling how she represents herself to the world and a guy shoving her to her knees, so he can cum all over her face were two very different things.
It was all about consent.
It was taboo to like being fucked like a slut. No girl was supposed to like that. And even hookers should have the choice of what they’re willing to endure for the sake of their own pleasure.
Lying in bed, I knew tomorrow my parents, Rowan, and I would all come together, and it’d be okay again. I knew the rest of the weekend would be fine and no one was going to hold my temporary lapse of judgement against me.
I also knew that as soon as I moved back here, I was going to have to call that counselor.
Ihadto.
Chapter 11
Molly~
My encounter with Sawyer and Calvin had shaken me up more than I had wanted to admit to myself. Even if there were only two more months left of school for them, it was still two months where they could tell anyone who would listen what had happened. And it wouldn’t matter if I denied it because, as seniors, they were popular enough that people would believe them.
Never mind that it’d be the truth.
But what really had me questioning everything was Lorcan’s visit. If what I did ever got out, how hurt would he feel with the blindsiding of it all? How would he be able to defend me if he had no idea what was going on? And how humiliated would he feel finding out by someone else?
My entire being hurt with the struggle between telling him and not telling him. My brother will never be able to look at me the same, but by confessing willingly, I had a chance to still maintain the trust and closeness between us. Having him find out by someone else would ruin that. And with social media being what it was, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he couldn’t find out all the way in Texas.
And it was such a scary thing to disappoint the person closest to you.
Terrifying, in fact.
But I had to tell him.
I had to.
We’d been in his suite, eating dinner, catching up, just hanging out with the television on in the background just in case something caught our eye. Running out of ice, Lorcan had gone back to the ice machine to get some more. Waiting on him, I knew I was going to tell him when he got back.
Pacing the hotel room, I practiced a bunch of ways I could tell him, but it was stupid, really. No matter how I said the words, they were going to be humiliating and hurt him, anyway. And because of that simple fact, when Lorcan walked back into the hotel suite, I stopped pacing. I looked over at my brother, and the smile on his face died instantly as he took in my tears.
“Molly, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“I…I ha…have something to tell you.” His face immediately paled, and I knew my words were bringing back bad memories. “I’m not pregnant,” I quickly rushed out. “It’s…it’s not that.”
He let out a deep breath. “Then what is it?” he asked, walking towards me.
I glanced at the seating area of the suite. “Let’s…let’s sit down.”
Putting his hands on my shoulders, he led us to the couch, and sitting next to each other, I wondered how I was going to get the words out.
“Okay,” he said, taking a steady breath, readying himself. “What is it?”
I didn’t say anything for a really long time, and Lorcan didn’t push. Even as worried as he must be, he didn’t push. He just waited patiently, and the fear of losing him was real.
“I’m sick,” I finally confessed. “But…but not in the way you might be thinking.”
Those eyes of his, the ones that matched my own, narrowed. “Meaning?”
