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“To get the matter of my virginity out of the way?” she asks in utter disbelief. “Yes, Brad. I did that.” Her nostrils flare, all light and breezy leaving the building. “I used you.” She’s mad. Good. I’m with her. “Now can you just fuck off so I can take this fucking thing off and put it on the right fucking way?”
I flinch, wince, and cringe. Her English accent makes swearing sound proper. It still sounds awful on her, though. “Will you stop cussing?”
“No!” she snaps petulantly, her face becoming red.
Knock, knock, knock.
“What?” we both yell in unison at the door.
“Umm, I have another lesson in an hour,” Leon calls through the wood. “Just sayin’.”
“I’m coming,” Pearl calls, pushing the wetsuit to her feet. “Just give me a second.” She wrestles her legs out of the rubber, and I’m back to square one. Dizzy. Cross-eyed. Dumping her ass on the bench, she flips the wetsuit and stuffs her feet in the leg holes again. “I don’t mean to inflate your ego, Brad Black, but if I was going to use a man to be rid of my virginity, I’d pick one that’s not a murdering arsehole who likes hookers, cocaine, and who doesn’t have a cock that’s likely to split me in half.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Just fuck off, Brad.”
I growl and stomp over, pulling her to her feet, getting up in her face. “Do I need to wash your mouth out with soap?”
She pushes her forehead to mine. “What are you, my?—”
I stop her before she can finish, slamming my mouth onto hers and swallowing down the words I don’t want to hear. And she’s in the game with me, now seemingly unbothered by my old habits and big cock, kissing me ferociously, whimpering, her naked boobs pushing into my chest. My fists are in her hair, the burn inside is being dowsed and cooled. Jesus Christ.
I. Am. Fucked.
“No,” she gasps, pulling away. “No, I can’t do this.”
What? “Why?” I gasp, breathless.
“Because it’s wrong,” she grates, shoving me back. “Because you’re?—”
“I’m what?” Old?
“You!” she yells, high-pitched, laughing, hurrying into her wetsuit. “You’re you, Brad, and I’m just me.” Getting her arms into the sleeves, she squirms around, straightening the material. “Young, stupid, and naïve.” She walks away, leaving me standing dumbstruck, my lips sore, as she feels around behind her for the zip, muttering her frustration. “This is stupid. The front was easier.”
I’m . . . me.
Hookers. Cocaine. A killer.
The American.
Thirty-five.
A heartbreaker.
Old.
I sigh, exhausted by myself, and approach her, resting my hands on her shoulders. She stills. “Let me.” I reach for the pull and tug it up halfway before taking her hand and leading it to the fastener so she can do it herself, hiding the bare skin of her back from me. It’s for the best. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
And I hope I get the hang of resistance too. It’s not my place to teach her . . . anything. Not to jet ski, not to . . . what? Fuck? “Be careful on the water.” I pass her and leave, keeping my eyes off Leon, who’s waiting outside, afraid he might see the threat in my eyes. Keep your hands off her. But I know a young lad like Leon is the best option for Pearl.
And undoubtedly for me too.
I make my way to the end of the jetty, not now bothered for the water. I can see James and Danny in the distance, The Brit and The Enigma riding at each other, spinning, spraying. Being total fucking kids. I need that too. Respite from?—
Fuck . . . me.
Respite from the trials and tribulations of a woman.
