I balk at the crudeness of his tone.
When I attempt to shut down his interrogation by returning to his car, he grips my elbow firmly, stopping my fast exit. “Answer the question, Megan. Has anyone popped your cherry?”
His deep voice sends heat rushing to my cheeks. Once again, I don’t know if it is a good bloom or a bad one. Considering it coincides with a warm slickness forming between my legs, I am going to assume it is good.
Incapable of a more suitable response, I pull a face as if he is being ridiculous. It’s all a ploy. I’m not exactly sure what “popping my cherry” means, so I’m fairly certain I haven’t done it.
“Has a man ever put his cock in you? In your mouth? Your hand? Yourpussy?” There he goes with the dipping tone again, and I’m not going to mention his mind-reading capabilities.
Although mortified at the direction of our conversation, I shake my head. It is fast, but instantly affects Dexter’s sanity. His second string of curse words vibrates my chest, alerting me and half the population of America to his anger. I don’t know why he is angry. Shouldn’t he be pleased?
“Of course you’re a virgin. That’s why Lee was itching to have you beneath him. Every man loves the smear of virginal blood on his cock.”
If my stomach weren’t empty, I may have vomited at his comment.You’re a pig.
When he snickers at my soundless remark, I roll my eyes before heading toward his car. This time, he lets me go.Regrettably.
While latching my seatbelt, I run our conversation through my head. Some of what Dexter said makes sense: I don’t feel like I’ve aged a day since I began taking the pills he disposed of. But the part about virginal blood was disgusting. . .and it makes my insides tingle. But we’re going to ignore that. I’ve got enough confusion to wade through; I can’t add bizarre sensations into the mix.
