My dress almost pooled at my feet. The bed sheets that had covered me were on the floor. As he picked the sheets up and threw them back on my bed, I tugged the strings of my dress on my shoulder. There weren’t any stains and it hadn’t wrinkled. I wanted to look composed. One minute he’d been talking about his friend and I’d observed how much he saw himself in his friend. Then, all of my senses had short-circuited. I didn’t hate him and I didn’t believe that I ever had. “Have you ever had any kind of sex?” I tried to resist how much heat flared between the apex of my thighs from how close he was to me. I was drowning in the depths of need and nervousness, but his instant hold over my shoulders was unyielding. I hesitated for a minute and then I responded, “No, Hunter. I haven’t had any kind of sex with anyone.” Steering from my arms, Hunter’s expression was loathing. He retrieved his book bag from the floor and carried it over his shoulder.
What do You think about Here With Me (Paloma's Edge)?
