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“I prefer like with my wanting. And age appropriate.”
“You’re narrow-minded.”
“And you act like the kid you are.”
I draw in a breath. “Maybe I act up because you’re just there. You frustrate my every turn. Deliberately treat me like I’m a teenager, except when you put your tongue in my mouth?—”
“Karlee.”
I ignore his warning. “Or lick me when you could have just told me to shower off the fake tattoos.”
“Karlee.”
“Yes, I’m twenty-two, but I’m not a sheltered virgin. I’m far from either.” His hands go tight on the wheel. “I lived on the streets after Mom tried to use me to make money. That’s how far gone she was. I survived on those streets, learned the system, and played the game to win. I learned how to stay at hostels and make friends with deli owners to get an address. Found the right people to get fake IDs. I did odd jobs. And I was always gifted with tech. I liked coding and designing, and I landed the job at KonCept at sixteen.”
“They thought I was twenty-one.”
He gives me a look, and it’s dark. I shiver, but I continue.
“By then, I lived with a boyfriend. The second one. It’s easy to exchange sex for companionship and a roof. I wasn’t whoring myself.” My hands curl tight, and I don’t even know why I care he understands. Because women have to live, to make money. It was close, but I was into those guys, and virginity is overrated, anyway.
I want to say all this to him, let the words and explanations waterfall down, how I made it on my own until I was sixteen and met Ren. He was twenty, and we clicked when he caught me running a scam for drinks and money at a bar. He didn’t turn me in but took me out, and we started up and?—
My point is, I’m no blushing little virgin.
“I was sleeping with my boss at seventeen.”
“All the way to the top.”
Heat rushes through me. “You’re a prick, Tizio, a real prick. No. I crushed on him hard. I was single then, even had my own shared apartment, and he paid well. For the job, not?—”
“Karlee. I didn’t call you a whore.”
“You did.”
“I’ve got a smart fucking mouth, okay?” He loosens his grip on the wheel and taps his fingers against it. “He should have known better.”
I roll my eyes. “Power imbalance? I got the talk. And it took me a few weeks to wear him down.”
“Jesus, you’re a fucking dangerous little thing, aren’t you?”
“I’m not little.” I shoot him a look.
He meets my gaze. “So, you had a crush on your forty-year-old boss, that it?”
“He was twenty-four. This is tech shit.”
“Well,” he pulls into the lot at school, “enlightening talk.”
“Tizio, I don’t care you’re my brother’s friend, or that you’re old.”
He groans, shaking his head, and there’s a smile that makes my heart want to burst. “Jesus, you certainly know how to talk to men. Go to class, Karlee.” But I don’t move. I breathe in slowly and exhale, then I undo my seatbelt and shift closer to him. He smells of wood, salt, and man. I want to lick him, I want to climb on him and ride him, I want his mouth again, and I want it everywhere. Every fantasy I shouldn’t want, I have. He makes each of them burn bright like fever. “My brother doesn’t have to know.”
“Jesus, Karlee, I’m not fucking you. I don’t even think you want me fucking you. So, stop playing with fire.”
I climb over the gear shift and take his face in my hands. “Don’t tell me what I want and don’t want. And you look at me like you want to fuck me. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Before he can answer, I come in and kiss the corner of his mouth, and my stomach dips and sings with the contact.
