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I bring my gaze to the floor in the hopes it will erase the feeling of being picked apart, but it doesn't work. I can still feel his gaze penetrating me. I can still feel the wheels in his head turning. He might as well just call me a freak and get it over with.
I pull my hands back to my sides. "It's complicated."
"It's not complicated. The guys you fuck don't finger you or eat you out."
Oh God... I take a deep breath. "Yes, and that is how I want it."
"How the hell could you possibly want that?"
"None of your business."
"How the hell do you talk someone out of that?" He takes another step toward me. So he's close enough to whisper.
"I move things along."
"And if he asks?"
"Do I need to reiterate how this is so not your business?"
"I'm just curious." He grabs my wrist. "Because I don't fuck a girl unless I get to feel her come on my face first."
A salesperson stares at us like he's watching a soap opera. He's within earshot and we're practically screaming.
We're screaming about oral sex in a furniture store. Who wouldn't stare?
I motion toward the sales guy. Drew shrugs like he doesn't care if the other guy can hear. He leans closer.
He brings his mouth to my ear. "You have no idea how much I want to throw you on that table and show you what you've been missing."
Heat rushes through my body. I swallow hard. Drew wants to show me what I've been missing. He must mean that figuratively. It's not like he actually wants me to come on his face.
I grab onto the table next to me. Wow. The room is spinning. Funny, the room wasn't spinning a minute ago and now it's going as fast as a damn Tilt-A-Whirl.
"Kara."
"I should get home."
He lowers his voice. "I'll drop it."
I keep my back to him. "No. You'll ask about it until I tell you. So get it over with now."
"Anyone ever try?" he asks.
"Yes. My ex... he used his hands once. It's not that I don't like it. It's..." I press my palms flat against the table. It's impossible to breathe.
A sob wells up in my throat. No, not here. I'm not crying over this. Not over how that asshole Jake treated my scars. They're mine and no one is ever going to see them again.
Ever.
Drew presses his chest against my back. He runs his fingertips over my arms, all the way to my hands.
"I have a good reason. I swear." I pull away. I try to wipe the distraught look off my face. I try to shake off the memories that threaten to surface.
It's not working. I close my eyes but the only thing I can feel is the disgust on Jake's face. The way he looked at me like I was damaged. No longer worth his time or attention. No longer worth his desire.
My hand is shaking. I shove it into my jeans pocket but it's still shaking. Drew is here with me now. Would he still be here if he knew about the scars?
Would he still like me?
