“Yeah? She no good?”
No response.
“Does she not suck dick?” Eric clarifies. “Does her cunt smell bad?”
“I wouldn’t know. I put her to bed.”
“What? Why? I mean, she’s maybe a six or seven out of ten, eight if she had some style, but that’s not bad. If she’s not pretty enough for you—”
“She’s pretty,” he says firmly.
“You decide you can’t bang a virgin then? I can take care of that if you want.”
No response again. I hear the sound of keys.
“Well, if you take her back, make sure Dan knows I’m not paying. Maybe you can trade her in for one of those other girls.”
Not wanting to hear more of how I might get exchanged like a defunct product being taken back to the store, I descend the stairs and enter the foyer where Tony is waiting. He’s changed into more casual slacks, a sport shirt, and a dark leather jacket. He puts on his sunglasses. He looks devastatingly sexy.
Damn. I messed up big time.
I follow him outside and get into a black sports car of some kind. He puts my duffel bag in the trunk before opening the passenger door for me. I climb into soft leather seats.
He starts to drive, and we make our way down the winding road that takes us into town. We’re almost at Highway 101 when I finally work up the courage to say, “I don’t want to go back to the city.”
He doesn’t respond and takes the car up the on-ramp.
“I’m serious,” I say. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and I want to do this.”
Still no response. We’re on the freeway.
“I need the money,” I add, “and losing my virginity is not going to be that big a deal.”
He stares straight ahead. “You don’t want to do it with me.”
“Why not?”
“I have...preferences.”
“Like what? Blonds? Asians? Non-virgins? Women with bigger boobs?”
He draws in a breath. “You know that book you are reading? Fifty Shades.”
“Yeah?”
He turns to stare at me. “Child’s play.”
I can’t swallow. So he’s into...BDSM. No biggie. I know about that now. Not like firsthand experience “know,” but it’s not something that I’m scared of. I don’t think.
“That’s okay,” I reply.
He raises his brows.
“I’m open to trying new things,” I insist.
He shakes his head.
“You keep thinking you know what I want or should want. I’m not this naive, can’t-tie-my-own-shoes—”