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She raised her head when she heard him walk out of the bathroom to see him irritably jerk his jeans on.
“Is something wrong?” she cautiously asked.
He reached for his shirt on the bed when he glared at her. “You were a virgin.”
Arden licked lips, which were as dry as cardboard. “So? What does it matter?”
His glare intensified. “You being a virgin never entered my mind,” he snapped. “Especially after you supposedly fucked Buck and Puck this afternoon.”
She straightened her shoulders, angered at his behavior. He was ruining her first time.
“There’s more than one way to have sex. I wasn’t aware the only way to get votes was having intercourse.”
“It isn’t!”
Giving him a shrug, she glowered back at him. “Then what’s the problem?”
He picked up his socks and boots then sat down on the bed to put them on. “The problem is I don’t fuck virgins. Taking a woman’s cherry comes with complications I don’t want.”
“You’re the one making it complicated. I don’t expect or want anything from you.”
“Yeah. Right. If it wasn’t a big deal, why were you still a virgin? Why didn’t you give it to Buck or Puck or another Last Rider?”
“I don’t know.” She did, but she would be damned if she told the big ass.
He didn’t believe her. “Bullshit. You had to have a reason.”
“I wanted you,” she gave him a partial truth. “I didn’t see why not.”
“I can tell you why not.” He snapped to his feet. “You should have given your first time to anyone but me. Someone who could appreciate it.”
His words stung, one after the other, shooting holes through her fragile pride.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Almost to her bedroom door, he stopped. “What?”
“Why are you always so mean to me? I think you get more pleasure at being a jerk to me than having sex with me. Why?”
Doom’s body went rigid. “I don’t intend to be mean. Look, let’s just pretend this didn’t happen and move on.”
Keeping the hurt at bay until he left, she gave him what he wanted. “I can do that. You can even keep your vote; I don’t want it from you. You can go. I think you answered my question,” she dismissed him as if he were a guest who had overstayed his welcome.
She rose unconcernedly under his scrutiny and moved to her dresser to pull out a sleeping top to wear.
Breezing past him as if he were invisible, she left her bedroom and headed to the front door, opened it, then held on to the doorknob for dear life, promising herself a good cry once he’d left.
Staring at her set face, Doom appeared to have misgivings about the way he had acted.
“Listen, I’m—”
“I need to get some sleep. Having sex with three men has exhausted me.” She ignored what he had been about to say.
“I’ll kiss your ass if you had sex with Puck and Buck,” he said, moving to the door.
“I’ve got a news bulletin for you,” she said, giving him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Your lips are never coming near my ass again, but feel free to make the offer to them. Just wait until I’m there; I want to see your face when they tell you to pucker up.”
Before Doom could respond, she slammed the door in his face, locking it for good measure.
“Hargh…” She stormed through her living room back into her bedroom. All desire to cry gone, she peeled the sheets and blanket off her bed, then remade it before she carried them to the hamper in the bathroom, not wanting any of his scent left behind. With the same thought in mind, she showered and washed her hair. It was over an hour later before she was able to turn the light off and go to bed.
Still furious, she vented by calling him every derogatory name she could think of and might have invented a few new ones. It was only when she found herself unconsciously punching her innocent pillow that she was able to regain control of herself.
“I promise you one thing,” Arden promised Doom as if he were there, pulling the pillow over her face to soak up the tears she could no longer hold back. “I’ll never let you make me cry again.”
She had given her virginity to a man who didn’t hold the least liking for her. Whose desire for her was as unsubstantial as the cotton candy she had likened him to. Hell, hindsight was foresight. The next time she was with a man, unless he showed signs of being a Jolly Rancher, her one and only excursion onto the wild side would be her last.
CHAPTER 34
THE MUG
Doom headed to his apartment. Inside, he made a beeline to the refrigerator to grab a beer.
“Nice job, dumbass,” he blasted himself. “What in the fucking hell were you thinking?”
