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She pillowed her head on her arms. “Fair skin.”
“Did I hurt you?”
The worry in his tone made her crane her neck to stare at him. He actually looked contrite as he stroked her backside. “Is the Pope Catholic?” At his frown, she frowned back. “Wait. Wrong answer. Climax brain. Is that a thing? It should be a thing.”
“You’re new to all of this. I’ve been pushing you too hard.”
“Right. I could tell that when I was practically shoving my butt at you.”
“I’m the one with experience. I should know better what you can handle.”
She turned her head back around and shut her eyes. “Good time to remind me of all the women who’ve come before me.” Who will come after me.
“Christ, Lo, that’s not what I meant to—I just, baby, I don’t want to hurt you. What you’ve given me is precious. I need to remember you’re still getting used to this.”
She didn’t respond. She wasn’t even sure she could speak through the thickness in her throat.
“Lauren.” He cupped her shoulder. “Look at me, please.”
“Oh, I can’t beg, but you can.” But she still rolled over. Her gaze dropped right to his wilting British condom and she snorted out a laugh despite herself. “I feel like I should salute.”
His brow furrowed until he got her meaning. He grunted and disposed of the condom, then returned to sit beside her on the bed. “I get that you’re pushing the boundaries.”
“What was your first clue? Maybe that I’ve never done any of this stuff in my whole life and now I’m like a starving kid at a buffet, waiting for the food to run out?” Hearing the quaver in her voice, she shut up.
Just what she needed—to remind him that she was inexperienced and in over her head. It didn’t matter that they were just about the same age. He was an adult, with all the life knowledge that came along with that, and she simply was not.
“Having sex doesn’t make me any wiser than you. You know more in some ways than I ever will. I know how to get my dick wet. Big deal. What exactly does that say about me? That I can go out there and knock up some chick who doesn’t even want me to get near my own kid?”
Lauren rolled over and sat up, hauling her pillow to her chest. “West.”
“Christ, I didn’t mean to say that. This isn’t about Chloe. It’s about you and me, and that I don’t want—”
Her cell phone went off where she’d thrown it on the dresser across the room.
Shit.
“That’s my parents,” she said quietly, rubbing his shoulder as she climbed off the bed. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”
Chapter Sixteen
Perfect freaking timing.
It took her a minute to get her legs back under her. Or more accurately, to make sure they were still capable of carrying her across the room.
Though she had to bite her sore lip, she managed to walk without limping. It was a close thing. But because she was her, she wanted to do a booty dance.
That was sore too. Which was just awesome.
Then she glanced back at the bed as she grabbed her phone and the moment’s euphoria disappeared. West was gripping his head in his hands, his elbows on his lap.
Her heart lurched and she had to take a few shaky breaths before she could answer her parents. “Hello, Mother,” she said, her voice as chilly and composed as if she didn’t have ass burn and a decimated pussy.
If that wasn’t an actual condition, she might just have to enter it into the official sexual lexicon.
“Oh good. I wasn’t sure you were going to answer. What will your new lifestyle choices and all.”
“Yeah, the debauchery does take up a lot of my time. I take it you’ve spoken to Ethan.”
