Page 103 of Spicy Ever After
“What if I say no?”
And that’s when the color drains from Beck’s face.
Chapter Thirteen
BECK
What. The hell. Am I doing?
I know virginity is just a social construct, but I’m not taking Hattie’s social construct in a sweet potato shed.
No goddamn way.
Even if I’ve never been so turned on in my whole life.
“H-Hattie, honey, we can’t—” I shake my head, hoping the action will help reverse the flow of blood back to my brain. “We can’t do it like this.”
Those wide hazel eyes blink up at me. Her cheeks are flushed and a matching blush dapples her luscious breasts.
Jesus God, she’s so beautiful, it hurts.
“You mean standing?” Her pretty brows pinch like I’ve given her a riddle. “I can’t speak from experience, but I’ve seen porn with couples doing it standing. I’m willing to tr?—”
“Hattie—” The air in my lungs escapes in a rush. It’s almost too much. Pressed against Hattie. Her legs wrapped around me. Her gorgeous tits in my face. Her lips, full and bruised from my kisses. Adding the image of her watching porn—of her touching herself while she watches?—
Jesus Christ, I could come in my jeans.
But I suck in a sharp inhale instead and ease Hattie down until her legs release me and her feet touch the ground. She looks up at me with a mix of disappointment, confusion, and, worst of all, hurt.
“Wh-what did I do? What did I do wrong?” She yanks down her top and presses away from me—what little the wall behind her allows.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Nothing—” I reach for her face with both hands, but she lifts an irritated shoulder to brush me away. Releasing her immediately, I edge back. Not a lot but enough to put a little space between us.
“Hattie, I swear, you did nothing wrong. I just didn’t realize—” And then I shake my head again because why the hell didn’t I realize she’s a virgin?
Of course she’s a virgin.
I knew she didn’t have much dating experience. Of course that would mean she didn’t have sexual experience either, right?
Literally everyone who has seen me with Hattie—including my own father not twenty minutes ago—has been concerned for her. Afraid of something exactly like this. That some asshole would take advantage of her.
Hurt her.
I’m a goddamn idiot.
“I can’t let your first time be in a shed.”
“What?” Hattie cocks her head like she has misheard me. “You can’t let? Don’t you think that’s up to me? I’m pretty sure I get to decide where I do it.”
I gesture at the wooden crates, the fluorescent lighting, the ever-present layer of dirt on the floor. “B-but you deserve better than this your first time.”
Her brows pinch, and she looks at the wooden crates, the fluorescent lighting, and the ever-present layer of dirt before belting me with her glare.
“But if this were my second or seventy-fifth time, I wouldn’t deserve better?”
“That’s not—you—I mean—” I drag my hands through my hair and suck a deep inhale through my nose. “Wait. Gimme a chance to process here.”
The accusation in her eyes softens slowly. Then she nods. “I like that.” She presses her lips together, looking thoughtful. “I should do that more—ask for time to process.”
