Page 59 of Maverick
And so, I don’t know that I’m going to try.
With her, why? I can just be this, and it can be what it is. She knows me as the villain already. I don’t have anything to protect her from.
“Are you okay with this?” I ask as we head back out onto the road.
“Context?”
“I’m not the most gentle in bed,” I grit out.
She makes a small choking sound. “I don’t…really have anything to compare it to.”
“If you want hearts and flowers and to be held, I’m not your guy. Multiple orgasms? I’ve got you.”
“I’ll happily take the orgasms, thank you.”
“I just want to make sure. Today I brought you into town and you’re staying with me and…”
“Youkeepchecking with me.”
“Yeah. Well, I’m very aware of the age gap.”
She looks at me and wrinkles her nose. She looks offended.
“Why are you acting like a scandalized maiden? I was under the impression that you were supposed to be a villain.”
“All good in theory. A lot harder in practice.”
“What’s your actual issue?”
I don’t actually know. That’s the problem. She’s asking a pointed question, and I don’t know how to answer it. What is my actual issue? Because I don’t actually hate the age gap as much as I wish I did. And I’d like to believe that I’m concerned solely about her. I also like to believe that I’m past worrying about my eternal soul, or whatever.
But something about it bothers me.
Something makes me feel like I have to atone before we’ve even started.
Maybe it’s just me putting her at a distance. But can you blame me?
Anyway, it’s for her own good as much as mine.
Maybe I just want permission to indulge myself. To embrace my darker impulses.
“I don’t want to go to hell,” I say.
She laughs. “I want to know who decided that orgasms were going to send you to hell.”
“A good question,” I say.
“I suppose they just don’t want us all having sex constantly instead of getting other things done. It’s bad for capitalism.”
“Now there’s a good way of looking at it. A capitalist plot.”
She’s staring out the window, and I need to look at the road. But I find myself captivated by her. Her blonde hair is in a ponytail, and the curve of her neck is elegant. Her profile as she stares out at the landscape grabs my attention, but I force myself to look back at the road.
I know way too well what can happen when you get distracted while driving.
The thought doesn’t even fill me with terror so much as something grim.
“If I didn’t have to work, if I didn’t have to achieve, I might sign myself up to be your sex slave.”
