Good Girl Gone

My heart trips hard in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

He squeezes me with his arm. “Don’t ever feel sorry for me,” he growls.

“I didn’t offer you pussy because I felt sorry for you, Josh. I offered it because I thought you might make it worth trying. That’s all. I’m sorry for assuming that. You’d probably be just like all the rest.” I scoot back away from him and slide into the cool spot on the other side of the bed.

“What are all the rest like?” he asks.

“Like it’s just pussy on a platter.” I laugh, because that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever said.

Josh hooks his arm around me and draws me back against him. I stay facing the wall, but he wraps himself around me and slides his arm under my head so I can use his upper arm as a pillow. I turn my head and kiss the inside of his elbow.

“I wouldn’t,” he says.

“Wouldn’t what?” I ask the darkness.

“I wouldn’t treat it like pussy on a platter, Star. I’d treat it like it was something wonderful. A gift you’d give to me and a present I’d give you at the same time. I’d give it value, because that’s what it would be to me. Valuable.” He stops for a moment. “Do you understand?”

“Not really,” I squeak.

“Who hurt you, Star?”

“No one,” I whisper. I turn my face into his arm and press my eyes tightly closed, trying to keep the tears from spilling over my lids.

“Tomorrow, I need to leave early in the morning to go on the trip we talked about. Do you really want to go?”

“You already got time off from work?”

I can feel him nod behind me. “I texted Paul when you were sleeping.”

“I can get ready early.”

“You sure you want to go? It might not be a lot of fun.” His voice is hesitant.

“I’ll go with you. I don’t have anything else to do.” I roll over to face him. “Unless you don’t want me to go.” I wait, fearing his response.

“I don’t want to go alone,” he finally says.

“Okay.” I scoot into my spot and wrap my arm around him. I lift the edge of his shirt and lay my palm on his side. I can feel raised spots on his skin. “What’s that?” I ask.

“Scars,” he says.

I touch them, letting my fingers roll over them slowly. He doesn’t shove my hand away.

I guess some people wear their scars on the outside and some on the inside, and I just found some of his. What’ll be bad is when he finds mine.

Josh

It’s weird having someone in my house. Star is getting ready to go with me, and she’s in my shower. She hung a towel in front of the glass door, and she’s probably not even aware that I’m in the room now. She’s singing. The song drifts from her lips and over the shower door, and the words wrap around my heart. My heart stutters at the sheer beauty of it. Damn, she can sing.

It’s different when she’s singing with the Fallen from Zero girls, because that’s a show. That’s her and them with lots of noise and theatrics, guitars, screaming fans, and they’re putting on a production. This…this is just her. And me. She opens her mouth and the song comes out, and it touches me to my very soul.

“What’s that song?” I call out. I’m sitting directly outside the shower door and I can see the outline of her body through the sliver of glass that’s exposed.

She stops singing and I see her freeze. “What?” she asks. She blows water from her lips and makes a razzberry sound.

“What’s that song you’re singing?”

“I didn’t realize I was singing. Sorry.”

“Don’t stop. It was pretty. What was it?”

“Just something Marta used to sing to us when we were younger. It’s in Spanish, and I can’t translate the whole thing.”

“Oh.” I grin, even though she can’t see me. “I like hearing you sing. It’s lovely.”

“Thanks,” she says.

“So are you,” I call out. “Lovely, I mean.” I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m so stupid.

She pulls the towel over the door and I can see her moving behind the glass, wrapping it around herself. She opens the door and smiles at me. “Thank you. You’re pretty hot, yourself.”

I snort out a laugh. “Nice thought, but no.”

She stops and stares down at me. She threads her fingers into my hair. “You don’t even see it, do you? All this silky dark hair, and those eyes.” She hums softly as she walks by me. “You’re hot, Josh.” She grins. “Why do you think I want to do you so bad?” She points a finger at me. “I’ve been trying to get into your pants since the moment I met you.”

She leans close to the mirror over the sink and starts to apply her makeup. The towel wrapped around her lifts up a little, and I can see the subtle swells of her ass cheeks.

“I can see your butt,” I say quietly. My throat suddenly feels clogged, so I cough into my fist.

She grins at me in the mirror. “I know.”

I shake my head, smiling, because I can’t think of any other purposeful action. It’s what’s in my heart. She makes me laugh. I roll toward her and stop directly behind her. She watches me, her eyes half closed as she stares at me in the mirror. I cup the back of her thigh and slide my hand up. She’s so soft and silky, and I have to fight with my fingertips to keep from seeking out the wet heat between her legs.