by S. M. Shade
She glances up at me, and I can’t take it anymore. Our lips crash together, and I lift her up, kissing her as I carry her to her bedroom and strip her clothes off. Mine are next, thrown haphazardly around the room.
“I’m not…very experienced with this,” she whispers, an anxious look on her face. “I might not be very good.”
As if she could ever disappoint me. “Sweetheart, I had to try not to come the second you touched me last time. You’re perfect.”
Her shy smile once she’s naked beside me almost does me in. Not very experienced, she said, and her reaction reflects that. The way the blush on her cheeks washes down over her neck to her chest is the sexiest thing. There’s no hesitation in her kiss and she lets out a little moan, wrapping her arms around me when I move on top of her.
Her head falls back as I kiss down her neck. The whimper she lets out when I suck one perfect pink nipple between my lips makes my cock even harder. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted inside a woman so badly.
Lips parted, she pins those heated blue eyes on me, watching while I kiss down her stomach. I keep my gaze on hers as I rub my palms over the silky skin of her inner thighs, then push them apart.
Her eyes instantly fall shut, and she turns her head to the side.
“You don’t need to be shy with me. I love what I see.”
She peeks down at me, obviously pleased, then closes her eyes again when I dip my head between her legs.
“Ohhh.”
It’s not a cry, but a drawn out gasp that sounds almost awed. Slow and gentle, my tongue teases and explores until she’s squirming and desperate.
“Oh, yes!” she cries when I slide a finger inside of her. I add another finger, sliding them in and out gently. She’s tight, and I want to make sure she’s ready for me. First, I want to make her come. My fingers rub her spot, and she groans, lifting her hips off the bed.
“God, Layton, it’s so good. Please.”
My lips barely have time to suck at her clit when she comes apart with a cry, her hands fisting the sheets, her whole body shaking with the spasms.
“Holy fuck,” she says, after a moment to catch her breath. She looks down at me while I roll a condom over my cock. “That was…no one has ever…”
What?
“No one has made you come by eating you?”
Her gaze flits away. “No one has ever gone down on me.”
Whoever she was engaged to was a fucking loser. “Did he make you come at all?” Or was he one of those assholes who only takes?
Her bottom lip is sucked in and she shakes her head. Her voice is so soft when she speaks that I can barely make out the words, but it’s enough to freeze me in place.
“We…I’ve never actually had sex.”
Chapter Fourteen
Kelly
I didn’t think it was possible to feel shame, regret, and anger all at the same time. Never imagined such a wonderful experience just seconds ago could so quickly be doused by a single look.
The look on his face isn’t singular, really. It says so much. It screams horror, regret, and the worst, most devastating emotion, disgust. “You’re a virgin?”
All I can manage is a nod before he’s off the bed. A string of curses are barely audible under his breath while he pulls the unused condom off and grabs his pants.
This can’t be happening. The first time I actually have feelings for someone, when I finally feel like a normal person who wants sex, this is how it ends? Shame rolls over me, and my hands shake as I scramble to pull on shorts and a tee shirt as quickly as possible.
Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe the moment that he looks at me. It’s everything I can do to swallow the lump in my throat and keep the tears from forming.
His soft, cajoling voice holds no comfort. “Kelly, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I can’t. This isn’t right.”
My words come out flat and heavy. “Just go.”
I don’t want explanations. His reaction was enough. God, I was naked, his tongue was between my legs, he watched me come and then looked at me like I repulsed him.
“It’s not you,” he says, and I interrupt him, raising my voice.
“Just get the fuck out, now!”
Without another word or backward glance, he’s gone. I manage to hold back the tears until I hear the front door shut behind him.
His addictive smell is all over me and my sheets, and it just makes things worse. I can’t take it. I jerk the sheets and pillowcases off and stalk down the hall to the washer, shoving them in. Then I grab some clothes and head for the shower.
The hot water can’t burn away all the emotions that are attacking me. It was so amazing, having him like that, better than every fantasy I’ve had of him since we met. The way he looked at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen, the noises he made as he licked me, the wicked grin after I came. So perfect.
It’s not like I had some fairytale idea that the first time I slept with him would be all roses and rainbows. I expected it to be awkward. I expected it to hurt. I didn’t expect him to hurt me like that.
Is it really so horrible to be a virgin? Is inexperience that much of a taboo? And how the hell am I supposed to overcome that if that’s the reaction I’m going to get? I guess I shouldn’t have told him.
Once I’ve scrubbed off every trace of his scent and put fresh sheets on my mattress, I climb back in bed with my laptop. I need to distract myself or I’m not going to stop crying, and I don’t want the girls to know anything when they get home…which won’t be long.
My mind won’t cooperate. Every good moment I’ve had with Layton plays in my head. His embarrassed expression when he explained why he wanted to learn the piano. How caring he is with his grandmother. The sweet way he always treated me. He always encouraged me, made me feel like I was capable of whatever I wanted to do. He made me feel like a real person, not the walking doll only fit for a husband that my parents saw me as. I thought he cared about me.
The thought of never seeing him again is equally as terrible as having to see him again. He’s become such a large part of my life so quickly, and even though I’m hurt and pissed, I already miss him. But I couldn’t handle the humiliation of being around him now.
Surely, he won’t show up for any more piano lessons. Adulting Club is over for me now.
My time with him is over.
A ping alerting me that I have an email draws my attention, and I wipe at my leaking eyes again. Damn it. I need to stop thinking about him.
If I wanted a distraction, here it is. I failed another midterm. It’s a warning that without completing extra credit and scoring at least a B on the final, I have no chance of passing. Shoving the computer away, I pull my covers over my head and try to block out the world.
I don’t know how much time passes before I hear the girls talking and laughing. I must’ve cried myself to sleep. I haven’t done that since I was a kid.
I’ve left my door open a crack, and before I can get up to close it, Serena bounds in. “Hey, do you want to—” The sight of my puffy face stops her mid-sentence. “What did that asshole do?”
The indignation in her voice and the way she instantly assumes it was Layton makes me laugh, even though I still feel like bawling. She knew he was coming over, hell, all of the girls knew my plan to lose my virginity today.
Serena’s exclamation has Zara and Remee rushing in as well to see what’s going on. “Are you okay?” Zara asks.
God, I feel ridiculous. Like a stupid little girl who got her heart broken by her crush on a teacher. “I’m fine,” I lie, leaning against the headboard.
“No, you’re not.” Serena sits next to me. “What happened? If he was rough or nasty about it, I swear I’ll tear his nuts off.”
“He wasn’t.” My chest rises and falls on a watery sigh. “We didn’t do anything. We were just about to. When I told him it was my first time, he…changed his mind.” Yeah, changed his mind sounds much better than looked repulsed and ran away.
“What? Did he say why?” Remee asks, sitting on my other side.
“He rattled off about it being wrong and that he couldn’t. He barely had time to say anything. He was dressed and out the door.”
“He freaked out,” Serena says. “God, why are guys so paranoid about this?”
“Maybe he didn’t want to be the one to, you know, hurt you,” Remee suggests. It’s a kind thought, but she didn’t see what I did, and I’m way too ashamed to tell her the truth.
“It doesn’t help that there’s this belief that breaking a hymen is some huge deal. It’s not tearing through some barrier like you’re poking a straw into a Capri Sun. That’s not even how it works. People are ridiculous.” Despite the situation, my chest shakes with laughter at Serena’s words.
“I’ll never look at a Capri Sun the same again, thanks.” My phone buzzes and Layton’s smiling face pops up. I reach over, turn it off, and set it on the nightstand.
“Was that him?” Zara asks.
Nodding, I pull my knees up and lay my head on them. “I’m fucking everything up. Maybe my parents were right when they said I couldn’t make it on my own. They could see how hopeless I was.” Yeah, self-pity isn’t pretty, but there it is.
“Bullshit,” Serena snaps.
“You don’t understand! I’m failing my classes. I hate it because it feels like such a waste of time and money when I can’t even pick a degree! I don’t know what I want to do or who I want to be. I’m so behind on everything. Late to start school, late to be out on my own. Why did I think I could be an adult? I’m just going to be a worthless, college dropout virgin who can’t cook!”
A few moments of silence after my rant are broken by Zara. “Kel, the way you feel now is all about being an adult. We’re all just winging it.”
“Why are you going to school?” Serena asks.
“To get an education…to be…something.”
A smirk raises her lips. “Am I nothing?”
“What? No! You’re amazing.”
“I’ve never been to college. I work at a job that’s considered unskilled, though I can tell you right now half the assholes who think that couldn’t waitress to save their lives. I live in the same apartment you do, pay the same bills. What’s the difference?”
After floundering for a moment, I blurt. “You can cook and you aren’t a pathetic virgin who can’t seem to give it away.”
Serena bites back a smile. “First, cooking is a skill you’ll learn. Second, I know about ten guys who would have no problem divesting you of that troublesome hymen if that’s what you actually want. Neither of those is what this is about. You’re heartbroken—another brutal milestone of adulthood—and it’s making everything else seem bigger. You need perspective. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen.”
I’ve never heard Serena sound so serious, and she has my attention along with Zara’s and Remee’s. “I’m listening.”
“There is a difference between us. I do what I want, make my own decisions, and live with the consequences. I don’t let anyone else tell me what kind of life I should want or let societal expectations play into my choices. You wanted away from your parents and Stanley, so you could have the same thing and that’s brave as fuck, but if you can’t say why you’re doing the things you are, like going to school, then you’re either doing them to meet someone else’s expectations.” She waves her hand. “Or you’re impulsive and not thinking through your choices before you make them.”
The bed creaks as she sits back. “If you want my opinion—”
“Little late for that offer,” I snort, and she throws a pillow at me.
“If you want my opinion, if school was what you wanted, if it was sending you toward a goal you were excited about, you’d have no problem succeeding. So, stop whining, figure out what you want your life to be. Not in five years or ten years, but now. Make your own choices based on that. As long as you’re paying your own bills, it’s no one’s business what you do with your life. Work in a factory, be an artist, walk dogs, shake your titties at guys for money. There aren’t any rules as long as you’re finding your happiness.”
Her voice softens. “But give yourself a little time. Having a broken heart sucks. Don’t be so hard on yourself right now. Curl up and cry if you need to, eat all the ice cream in the house, or let’s go vandalize the asshole’s car. Whatever makes you feel better.”
She probably would too. “Thank you.” I give her a hug. “I think I’d like to eat all the ice cream and talk about how shitty men are all night.”
Remee leaps off the bed. “I’ll get the ice cream.”
“I have plenty of shitty men stories,” Zara promises.
As my friends scramble to support me, I realize I was wrong about something. I felt like Cooper’s Music was the only place I fit in, the only place I felt like me. It’s not true. Somehow along the way, this place has become my home, and these girls have become my family. I belong here too.
Chapter Fifteen
Layton
Kelly won’t return my calls or texts. It’s been two weeks. I can’t say I blame her after the way I left, but it’s killing me not to be able to talk to her, check on her. The devastated expression on her face is all I can see from the time I wake up, and it haunts my nights as well.
The entire time I was seeing her, I tried to shove down those reservations, that intruding thought that being with her was wrong. The loophole of her not technically being my student anymore was something I grasped onto, but I knew it wasn’t really the issue.
She’s younger, and we met when I was in a position of power. My biggest worry was that I was taking advantage of someone too innocent to know any better. Once she told me she had been engaged, some of that fear faded. Yes, she was young, but she’d had a life too.
Not once did I consider she could be a virgin. Lying there under me, her eyes wide and trusting, I just couldn’t do it. What if I did and things fell apart in a month? Then I’m the asshole teacher who seduced her, took advantage, and broke her heart.
It’s better this way, no matter how much I miss her.
As if the thoughts of her in my head have conjured her, I look up from the ATM where I’m parked to see her stopped at the nearby stop sign. Her red hair flashes like fire in the sun, flying back behind her as she takes off on her scooter, a black helmet splashed with yellow on her head. Her posture makes me think of all the times she told me to sit up straight at the piano.
She’s gorgeous.
The thing that takes my breath away as she passes without seeing me is the same thing that convinces me not to call out to her. She’s smiling. She’s happy.
The car behind me honks, and I realize I’m holding up the line. I wave at them, then grab my money and pull out into the road. My hope is that her life is going well, because the fact that I’ve been called in to meet with the superintendent of the college doesn’t bode well for my immediate future. Maybe I’m wrong and it has nothing to do with her, but they don’t call you in just to chat.
Along with Kelly’s absence from Adulting Club, I’ve noticed Owen hasn’t returned either. He knew we were seeing each other, and though I don’t know what she told him about how that ended, the hateful looks I get from him when we pass on campus make his feelings on the matter clear.
Walking into the meeting, I realize I’m more worried about having to admit I was involved with a student and face the disdain of the faculty than I am about the actual consequences. I don’t want to be seen as some creep or predator, but actually losing my job doesn’t cause me much anxiety.
Which is a good thing, because that’s exactly what happens. I don’t know who told or how they found out, but the meeting is short and brutal. The moment I confess that there was a relationship between us, it’s over and I’m officially unemployed.
There’s an equal amount of relief and sadness when I clean out my office and classroom. It’s after hours so at least the campus is empty, and I don’t have to answe
r any questions from students as I’m loading my truck.
My teaching days are over.
When I get home, I’m at a loss of what to do. I’ll have a couple of weeks before the consulting work will begin, although there’s always research I can do toward it. I’m in no mood to work. Midnight lays his head on my lap when I flop onto the couch with a beer in my hand, and I scratch his head. This is how I’ve spent most nights since I last saw Kelly, and I know I need to pull myself out of it. Forget about her and move on, but not a trace of me wants to. She was smiling, happy. I need to remember that.
My gaze falls on the keyboard. I’ll need to return that to the music department soon, considering I no longer work there. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment because it only reminds me of her more, but I set up the keyboard and start practicing the new song she was teaching me for the concert at the retirement home, my part of the duet. I have no idea whether she’ll still do that now, but either way, I’m sure she won’t want to play with me.
Midnight whines and retreats to my bedroom at the first few chords. “Everyone’s a critic,” I grumble to myself, and try again.
Chapter Sixteen
Kelly
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen Layton. My friends keep telling me things will get easier but so far, I’m miserable. The only time I drag myself out of bed is to go to work and music class. I know my teachers and boss can tell my heart isn’t in anything right now, but they don’t push me to explain why I’m plodding through. Maybe they know. Heartbreak isn’t exactly rare.
The first few days I felt so angry, and maybe that helped because after the anger at his reaction started to fade, sadness took over. It’s a strange, empty feeling I’ve never had to face before but I’m trying to keep going.
I can’t help but wonder what he’s doing, if he’s thinking about me at all. I’m most torn about volunteering at the retirement home, and the whole concert I put together for my music project. Part of me wants to run from it all, but I can’t.