We were sixteen at the time. Dean, who’s two years older than me, was away at his first year of college and Weston was deployed. Logan was at his girlfriend of the time’s house and Quinn was at a friend’s house for the night. And the best part was my own parents were away for the weekend.
We’d been dating for well over a year at that time but hadn’t slept together yet. Charlie was scared of getting pregnant and wanted to wait. As much of a horny teenager as I was, I knew back then she was worth waiting for.
It was supposed to happen that night. In our teenage minds, everything was perfect…until we drank the wine. Charlie had never had a drop of alcohol before and being tipsy freaked her out. She wanted to call her sister and have her take her home, confessing everything to her parents.
Somehow I was able to convince her to just lie down with me, and instead of getting laid for the first time, she fell asleep in my arms, snoring loudly. I can still feel the pins and needles in my arm when I think about how it fell asleep only fifteen minutes after she passed out, but I didn’t want to move and disturb her. Maybe it’s a weird memory to cherish, but to this day it’s stuck out in my mind.
The next morning, when she woke up and felt silly for getting so scared about being drunk, she thanked me over and over for being so comforting to her. Her friends were impressed I didn’t try to take advantage of her, which was a little sickening to hear. That shouldn’t even be a concern. Guys should never take advantage of a woman like that.
Charlie was my world, my everything, and I wouldn’t have done a single thing to hurt her. Well…until I broke up with her.
If—no when—I get her back, I’m never, ever letting go.Chapter 18CharlieIt’s just dinner.
Everyone has to eat. It’s a basic human function, and talking with Owen is harmless. Because that’s all we’re going to do. Talk. So what if seeing him standing at the door this morning in nothing but boxers got me all hot and bothered. It doesn’t matter. And if I divert my thoughts, I almost forget how good his cock felt inside of me.
How the sex was good almost every single time. How Owen took his time with me. Was more concerned with pleasing me than enjoying it himself.
Our first time was painful, and I didn’t realize how well-endowed Owen was back then since I’d never seen another penis before. We had sex for the first time together after our senior prom—cliché, I know.
It hurt, probably only lasted five minutes, and had me freaked out for a week that I was pregnant. I didn’t want to get pregnant in high school, but once I was in college, everything was fair game, and once we started, we couldn’t stop.
“All right,” I tell Tulip, dropping down to the floor. The bedroom door was open when I got home, and after a moment of panic that I was going to find Tulip’s dead body chewed up and bloody on the floor, I found her shivering in fear under the bed. “You get a little break from the dogs. I know you don’t like new places, but at least nothing will chase after you.”
Not wanting to drag her out and hurt her broken leg, I end up moving the bed to get to her, and carefully put her in the designer pet carrier I bought back when I was working in New York. I enjoy fine things and don’t see anything wrong with indulging yourself every now and then if you can afford to do so.
There were several other female lawyers at my firm, one closer to my age and the others all older than me. They were all about designer suits and having the latest trends. I thought I was fashionable until I moved to the city and was quickly reminded that “designer” meant different things to the girl from some small town in Indiana and someone living in New York.
I made good money at my job there, more than enough to indulge, and it still sickened me a bit the first time I bought a two-thousand-dollar purse. But then I got compliments on it from the girls at work.
The next month I bought a three-thousand-dollar one.
I shake my head, not having time to bring up every stupid thing I did in the past and feel regret and shame. No, I’ll save those thoughts for when I’m lying in bed at night trying to sleep. Memories from high school and college will come rushing back too, I’m sure, and I’ll regret that stupid answer I gave in my psychology class all over again.