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“I know you’re sleepy,” I chided. “But do you want a UTI?”
MaryCat tensed. “No. Why would I get one?”
Jesus.
I was going to have to teach her everything.
For a second, I felt the burden of that, but then I thought about last night. How she’d followed my lead like the fucking trooper I knew she was, and how, with every kiss and caress, I could mold her into what I needed…
The control freak in me liked that way too much.
I’d never wanted a virgin. Never thought I’d get one with how I lived my life, so it hadn’t been a problem. Yet here I was. An ex-virgin as a wife.
Shaking my head at the thought, I muttered, “You’re supposed to pee after sex.”
“Why?”
I huffed. “Because.”
“Because?”
“Didn’t you do any research?”
“No.” She sounded more awake, at least. “Why would I?”
“Because it’s the 21st century?”
“And I couldn’t have sex without my boyfriend being killed,” she drawled, shoving at my shoulder. “I figured it was best to steer clear of temptation.”
“You didn’t watch porn?”
“Yes, but I mostly used my imagination,” was her prim retort, which swiftly turned mocking.“I’m a good Catholic girl, don’t you know?”
“Well, that must have been boring.”
She sniffed, but the effect was spoiled as she kissed my shoulder and, with a tenderness that got to me, gently massaged it. Much as she’d done yesterday.
Fuck, her fingers were like magic.
“Itwasboring,” she concurred. “After a while. That was when I turned to Twitter. It made it worse and gave me repetitive strain injury.”
I grinned. “I’ll bet.”
“Don’t tease.”
I shrugged as I stepped into the shower booth. “It’s funny. I’m gonna have to teach you everything and it’s not like I’m the fucking encyclopedia on this shit. I guess you could talk to the clubwhores—”
“The clubwhat?” MaryCat squeaked. Then, she sobered. “Oh. They’re actually real? Women do that? For rent? I thought it was a fictitious device.”
I blinked at that. “A fictitious device?”
She wafted a hand. “Never mind. Women genuinely sleep with guys in the MC to pay rent?”
“They do.”
She pulled a face. “That’s kind of sad.”
I’d expected a bitchy retort. “Why is it? If it’s what they want to do?”
