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She looks away again.

“For fuck’s sake, Lu. What in god’s name are you doing working in a place like this, being a fucking virgin? You don’t want your first time to be with someone like me.”

Her gaze snaps back to mine. “Why?”

I storm around the room, pulling my clothes back on. “Because I’m a fucking asshole. I’m not the kind of guy you want to remember giving your cherry to. I’m a bastard. You… deserve better for a first time.”

I can’t believe I am saying this. But I mean it. I don’t want some girl losing her virginity to me.

What a waste.

* * *

CHAPTERNINE

LUCI

I limpout of Room 21, not sure where to go next. I know Gwen is waiting in her office, expecting a debrief, and I don’t feel like talking about what happened just yet. Not that I’d share all the details with her, anyway. I need some time to think, to absorb what I just did and decide whether it was right or wrong. Was I a slut, or a normal woman learning to enjoy sex? I have no roadmap for this journey I’m on, and at the moment am terribly lost and confused, with a hundred different feelings swirling through and around me, like some kind of crazy storm clouds.

But one thing I am sure of, is that if she learns I just lost my virginity pretending to be a virgin who wasn’t really expected to be a virgin, well, she’d probably give me an earful or even worse, toss me out on my ass. It’s not like being a virgin is all that bad, it’s just that Gwen doesn’t like surprises. She takes them personally, living in a perpetual state of paranoia. How not telling her I’m a virgin could be construed as getting one over on her is beyond me, but I wouldn’t put it past her to see it that way.

So, I head for the locker room, which will hopefully be on the quiet side this time of day, without too many of the girls coming in and out, giggling and gossiping, and slamming their locker doors so hard it makes my brain rattle.

I’m heading for the door that says ‘staff only,’ when I pass a man in the hallway whom I’ve seen once or twice before. Though not handsome with his puffy face and stumpy build, he looks nice enough, like someone who might coach a kids’ softball team on the weekend when he’s off work from his office job.

I straighten up and hide the limp caused by the fire on my butt cheeks and the ache between my legs and force a cordial smile. We are instructed to make the members feel important every chance we get, and while I’m in no state of mind to do any more entertaining, I am as polite as I need to be.

“Well,” he booms. “Girls didn’t look this cute when I was in school,” he laughs, stepping in front of me so I can’t continue.

Ugh.

But I laugh along with him.

“What room do you work in, lovely lady?” he asks.

I dig up a little energy from the very bottom of my reserves. “Room 21. Maybe you can come see me there sometime,” I say with fake enthusiasm. I take a step to get around him, but he jumps to block me again.

Fear surges up my spine, but I know that’s silly. I am safe here. There is security. This man can’t do anything to me.

He’s just flirting.

Being friendly.

“You know, I would like to visit you in Room 21. Why don’t we go there right now?” he asks, wrapping his fingers around one of my wrists.

Tightly.

Like, very tightly. Until it hurts.

“Mr…” I say, hoping he’ll fill in the blank for me.

He drops his head back with another laugh. “Mr. Doe will be just fine, little lady. Or John, if you like.”

He reaches under my skirt, grabbing a fistful of my behind. Such an action would normally simply be plain out of line, but because of the spanking Rowan gave me, it turns out to be excruciatingly painful.

Involuntarily, I let out a scream, arching my back to get him to release me, and when that doesn’t work, grabbing his arm to twist away.

But he just holds me tighter, and the pain, the exquisite pain, buckles my knees. I drop to the floor, surprising both of us.

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