“You’re young. Explore your options. Have some fun. Go on a date with this guy… Bruce.”
“Bryce,” she corrected me.
“Bryce.” I nodded, hating him already. “You’ll probably be thanking me soon.”
Her jaw tightened. But she didn’t say anything more.
It broke my heart to hurt her, but finding out she was a virgin was a game-changer. I was old school. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve popped a few cherries in my lifetime, but in my youth, not as a thirty-nine-year-old man to a woman almost seventeen years my junior. There was no shame in the age gap. But this was Chastity we were talking about. She deserved so much more than me.
Walking away, I disappeared into the bathroom and took a cold shower. When I came out, dressed and ready to head out for the night, her bedroom door was closed and I could hear the muffled sound of music through the door.
I debated checking on her, but thought better of it. She needed time to think without me around. So I walked away, slipped on my cut, and with an ache in my chest, left for the clubhouse.
CHASTITY
My humiliation lasted all through the next day and into the next, gathering speed and size like a violently spinning snowball.
After deciding that maybe Ruger was right and perhaps I should go out with Bryce, I messaged my science buddy and accepted his dinner offer.
I agreed to the date because I was hurt and humiliated, but also because what if Ruger was right. What if all I had was a crush?
Maybe I needed to explore my options to realize this was nothing more than some stupid crush I’d held onto since I was a teenager.
Maybe dating someone else would help me get over it and see things for what they were… just a fantasy.
But even as I got ready for my date, my heart was a lump in my throat and I knew it was pointless.
Because what I felt for Ruger wasn’t a crush.
My feelings ran a lot deeper than that.
Bryce was nice. I liked him.
But he wasn’t Ruger.
I slid a velvet choker around my neck and stood back to survey my reflection in the mirror. I wore a simple summer dress with peasant sleeves, a hemline to my thighs and a neckline low enough to show just a hint of my boobs. The outfit was on point. But my shoes were the real show-stealers. Smoking hot stilettos that made my legs go on for miles.
The kind Ruger would like.
I frowned in the mirror.
Not that he’d be here to see them. He had barely been home in the last couple of days. He was making a point of being wherever I wasn’t. He was overreacting and it was breaking my heart. I didn’t want it to be this way. Two nights ago we were kissing passionately and about to make love.
Now he was avoiding me completely and I was going on a date with Bryce from college.
Bryce was a nice guy, but completely opposite to what I was attracted to. Preppy with model-like looks. He didn’t have that thing that made me weak in the knees.
Not like Ruger. He didn’t just make my knees weak, he made me want to get on them.
But he had made things perfectly clear.
He didn’t want me.
And if I liked it or not, I was going on this date.
RUGER
It had been a long day. I’d barely slept the last couple of nights because all I could think about was Chastity and how I’d broken her heart. The look on her face. The tears she was fighting back. Her flushed cheeks. The way she rubbed her pussy against me as I grinded into her on my bed.
Last night, the memory had tortured me until all I could do was jerk off so I could get some goddamn sleep.
When I woke up, I was in a bad mood.
Today, she was going on a date with some kid from college named Bryce.
I only knew this because I overheard Ronnie talking to Caleb and Honey about it at the clubhouse yesterday.
I knew I should be happy about it. After all, it was what I told her to do.
You wanted this.
Yeah, right. I wanted her to go on a date with Bryce about as much as I wanted a bullet in my brain.
As a result, I walked around all day like a moody sonofabitch, taking it out on the prospects and anyone else who irritated me.
Finally, after dealing with club business all day, I rode home.
I told myself I was going home to make sure this Bryce character wasn’t a dick. To check him out, not because I saw him as some kind of competition, but because I wanted to make sure she wasn’t climbing into a car with Ted Bundy, or another Peter.
When I pulled up to the house, a strange car was parked in the driveway.