“You’re incredible,” he whispers.
“Um, yeah,” I manage to gasp. I’m still so overwhelmed that I can’t talk. Feelings are circling inside me, swirling, a miasma of confusion. I should probably take charge of what’s going on, but I have no experience to draw from here, and Michael has so much. I figure he must know what to do and how I should be reacting. He seems more than fine with it. I guess I am too.
When he gets up from the bed for a moment, I breathe a little sigh of relief. I really need a minute to get my thoughts in order. I take a deep breath and then I hear the rest of his clothes drop to the floor and some sort of paper rattling around. I don’t look, though, because I think if I see Michael completely naked, it’ll take the last bit of sanity I have. I want this, want him—that’s not the issue. I just need things to slow down a little. There are so many sensations and feelings all at once that it’s overwhelming.
But then he’s back, and he’s kissing me and I’m kissing him, because I love the feel of his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, the way his hands stroke me everywhere. I’m so gloriously engaged in the kissing part that I don’t notice when he bends one of my knees up and presses himself between my legs. Then I feel his head rubbing against my clit and…God, that feels wonderful.
But the next thing I know, he’s whispering, “You’re everything, Jenny,” and thrusting inside me.
Pain is what I’m aware of then, burning pain, and instead of answering him with something sexy and seductive like I’ve always imagined, I do the one thing I really shouldn’t. I shriek.
Mike
I’M HARD as a crowbar and I’m about to enter what must be the gates of heaven. Jenny is like some sort of sex goddess beneath me. Her soft, perfect tits are crushed to my chest, her hot breaths puffing against my ear. Her sweet smell is winding through my head and my dick is pressing against her wet little clit. Whatever reservations I’ve had about getting involved with her dissolve in the wake of this overwhelming sexual attraction. I admit that she’s a lot more passive than most women I’ve slept with, but that’s part of her charm. I know she doesn’t have much experience¸ and the idea of being able to help her discover new things in bed is like a gift.
I’ve made sure to be a complete straight arrow this first time. Not even going down on her. I don’t want to scare her off. But damn, I can tell by the way she responds to me that she’s going to be something else once she gets comfortable with her sexuality.
I’m going to make a fool out of myself if I don’t hurry up and get inside her though. I already have the condom on, so I move between her legs and lift one to open her up more. She’s breathing hard, and she’s so wet that I’m shaking with the self-control it takes to slow this down.
Finally, I press against her core and whisper in her ear, “You’re everything, Jenny.” Then I plunge in.
She squeaks, and it’s not a squeak of pleasure.
I freeze, my heart racing. “Fuck! Baby? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” she manages to grit out, but I can hear the pain behind her words.
I move a touch inside her and she whimpers. Then it hits me. Like a fucking ton of bricks on my head. Like someone just took a two-by-four and clubbed me with it.
“You’re a virgin?” I gasp.
I feel more than see her head nod, but what she says is, “Not anymore I’m not.”
I swallow, bile churning in my gut. What the hell just happened here? All I know is that I have to undo it as fast as possible. I start to withdraw and feel her clench up in pain.
“Jenny. Um, just try to relax for a minute, will you?”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I mean, God.” I slip out of her and scramble away to the other side of the bed, where I sit on the edge, raking my hand through my hair. “Jesus, you couldn’t have told me?” I growl, anger washing through me.
I look over my shoulder at her. She’s huddled in a little ball, her hair in a tangled curtain over her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I stand up and pace the room, taking the condom off and tossing it in the general direction of the wastebasket. My dick aches, but my heart hurts more. I knew this would be a disaster; this just isn’t quite the disaster I pictured.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I just… God, I had no idea. You have to believe me. I mean, you said you’d dated that last guy for two years. You’re twenty-four years old. I just assumed…” I step on my pants and then bend down to pick them up and put them on. I have no idea where my underwear are. To hell with it. I have to get out of here before I fuck up even more.
Jenny sits up, her arms wrapped around her knees. “It’s okay. It was my fault. I should have told you, and I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt now.”
“Yeah,” I answer coldly as I grab my shirt and pull it on over my head. “A heads-up would have been nice.”
“Would you have been here with me if you’d known?” she asks softly.
My mind whirls through the question and the possible responses, but all I can manage is the hard, unvarnished truth. There is no way I would have agreed to be Jenny’s first. Not in a million years. I have no interest in virgins, and I’m not worthy of being anyone’s first, especially not hers.
“No,” I say without elaboration. “Never.”
Her head pops up from where she laid it on her knees. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
“Christ!” I slam the wall with the side of my fist then kick the doorframe. “What the hell did you expect to happen? You think I’d thank you afterwards? That was great, babe. Thanks for letting me defile you? You think I’m the kind of guy who has some weird fetish with banging virgins?”
“No,” she shoots back, sparks starting to fly from her eyes. “I think you’re the kind of guy who wants girls like that waitress tonight. Women who don’t wear panties and rub themselves all over your thigh before you slap them on the ass and send them on their way.”
I’m pissed now. I hate the image she paints of me, as true as it is. And I’m sick that I’ve taken something that should have been special for her and ruined it. But then I ruin most things I touch. Why should Jenny be any different?
“Well, you got me right, Sunshine. I still don’t understand what the hell you thought you were doing in a bed with me. You’re obviously not my type.”
“That’s right. I’m not, and I was a fool for trying to act like I was,” she snaps out. “I just thought that, once we were together, maybe you’d realize you should be looking at a different type.”
I snort. “Rule number one about men, darlin’—don’t ever try to change us. What you see is what you get.”
She stands up, and I have to turn away because she’s so fucking gorgeous that I know, if I’m going to keep my ugly hands off her, I can’t look.
“Well, I guess we’re pretty clear on the situation, then,” she says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you, but I’m kind of tired now, so if you’ll please go…”
I reach down to the floor and grab my shoes. “Sunshine,” I say, regret flooding me.
“Just don’t, Michael. It was my fault. It’s late and I need you to get out.”
“Yeah. Goin’.” I open the bedroom door and stomp through the living room. But I know I can’t leave without making sure she doesn’t do something stupid like try to leave me. I should never have gone here with her tonight, but I know, awash with guilt and fear, that I can’t let her go. “I’ll see you at the studio tomorrow, Jenny. You’re still under contract.”
I slam out of her suite and head down to the hotel bar to drink myself unconscious.
SOMETHING IS shaking. Then I realize it’s me. I’m being jostled mercilessly. My head feels like it’s about to split in two, my mouth is as dry as the Sonoran desert, and if the churning in my gut is any indication, I’m in grave danger of puking all over whoever is fucking waking me up. Which would serve them right.
“Come on, man,” Jos
s’s voice booms through my head. “Get your sorry, hungover ass up and start explaining.”
I swat at his hand on my shoulder before I belch loudly.
“Fuck you,” he says, giving me one last shove. “The shower’s on. Room service is on its way. Don’t think I’m doing this to be nice. I just want to know what the fuck you did so I can figure out how to clean up the mess.”
I groan and roll into a sitting position before I hear the door shut. Steam starts billowing into the room from the adjacent bathroom, so I stand up and stumble into the shower to start what is probably going to be the worst day of my life.
Twenty minutes later, I sit at the small dining table in my suite with a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me and a pissed Joss Jamison across from me.
“Jenny was on the phone to Mel at seven thirty this morning.” He glares at me from across the table. “Mel bolted out my bed, muttering something about ‘Mike is such an ass,’ then tossed on clothes and told me she’d see me later.” He takes a sip of his coffee while he watches me shovel another forkful of food into my mouth. “I’m all for live and let live, but you’ve interrupted my pre-marital bliss. It has therefore become my problem too. What. The fuck. Did. You. Do?”
I sigh, tossing the fork down on the plate with a clatter.
“I fucked up,” I say succinctly. “Badly.”
Joss sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I’m shocked,” he deadpans. “Explain.”
If I weren’t so damn hungover, I’d tell him to get the fuck out of my suite, but I feel like utter hell, and I just don’t have the energy to be a dick right now.
“It’s JR fucking DuBois’s fault,” I deflect.
“Bullshit.” Joss calls me on it before I can even get started.
“I wanted to kill him,” I grumble. “It took everything I had not to put my damn fist through his face. So I waited for her to come home.”
Joss’s one eyebrow lifts in question.
“In her suite. I was there when she got back. One thing led to another and we ended up in bed.”
He rubs a hand over his face. “And let me guess. As soon as you were done, you hopped up and headed out like she was a one-night stand?”
“Um, not exactly,” I mutter, realizing that, as big a dick as I usually am, even I’m embarrassed about this one. “Jenny isn’t like the chicks I’m usually with,” I hedge.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Joss quips.
“No, I mean it’s more than that. She’s, uh, she was a virgin.”
“What?” Joss looks confused, like I’m speaking another language.
“She was a virgin, man, but she neglected to tell me that until it was too late.”
“Oh, good God,” Joss groans.
“When it became clear—abundantly clear, I might add—that it was her first time, I stopped.”
Joss looks at me and I can tell he’s not buying it.
“And then I got pissed,” I finish.
“Annnd…”
“And I might have been an asshole. I might have told her that she wasn’t my type and she shouldn’t try to be. I might have said something about not having fantasies of little girls and teenage virgins—”
“Aw fucking hell! I can’t believe I was rooting for you. You’re a fucking idiot!” he shouts as he turns his face to the ceiling.
“She tricked me, man. She intentionally didn’t tell me because she knew I’d never touch her if I found out.”
“Don’t even try to justify yourself, Mike. Seriously. Jenny’s, like, the least manipulative woman I’ve ever met. She doesn’t have it in her to trick you or anyone.”
I hang my head, suddenly understanding what it feels like to be a dog in trouble with its owner. “I know,” I say softly.
“Don’t you get it? She’s in love with you, man. She didn’t tell you because she’s so far gone she was willing to sacrifice anything to be with you. God knows why, but that’s the truth.”
I nod, and a lump forms in my throat so that I can’t talk for a moment. “And I’m so far gone for her that I’ll do anything, say anything, to make sure she doesn’t love me.” I look up at Joss, pleading with him to understand. “I fucked up last night, but it wasn’t the shit I said afterwards that was the problem. It was giving in to it in the first place. I have no business touching her no matter what, and last night is the proof of that.”
Joss shakes his head and fiddles with the extra napkin on the table for a moment. He looks up at me then, his expression serious and thoughtful. “Why? I mean, you’re an asshole, but only because you choose to be. Why not stop that shit and give it a go if you feel that way about her?”
I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes, feeling the throbbing at my temples that’s been there since I woke up. I really need a fucking aspirin. “Are you going to keep this up all morning or what? You wanted to know what happened. I told you. Can we be done with the girly shit now? And aren’t you supposed to be at the studio helping her polish up those songs?”
I don’t know why he lets me deflect like this, but he does. I hear him stand up, his chair sliding on the carpet.
“Yeah. I’m meeting her over there in an hour. Hopefully Mel will have used some magic by then. It didn’t sound like Jenny was in any condition to work.”
I feel things inside me twisting and contracting.
“You going to show your face over there today?” Joss asks, reaching for the doorknob.
I nod, unable to form any more words.
“I’d suggest you keep your nuts out of Mel’s reach,” he says, a smirk on his face. “She said something about neutering you as she was leaving the room this morning.”
The door shuts behind him and I sit and look at where he stood. Yeah, it’s going to be one hell of a day.
Jenny
THERE’S NOTHING quite so bad for your looks as crying yourself to sleep. When I wake up at seven a.m., barely three hours of sleep logged, my eyes are puffed up to twice their normal size and my nose is stuffy and red. My throat hurts, my head hurts, and yeah, something else hurts a little too. All in all, it’s a really rotten morning.
My first inclination is to pack up my stuff and head home, but I can’t bear the idea of my father gloating over my failure. I also remind myself that at the bottom of all of this is my music career. And I want that career. Michael and Joss are my best bet for that. I can’t lose this opportunity.
I also can’t help but remember my father’s words and the look on my mother’s face when I told them about coming Dallas to live with Michael. God. I did a fast job of proving them right. If only they knew that I’m a failure at being a whore. Even when I throw myself at him, Michael doesn’t want me. My chest hurts so bad that I wonder if I should go to the hospital.
I want to call Tammy. She’s my manager and she knows Michael, but she’s in Portland with Walsh and they’re getting ready to have their first baby. I can’t bother them with my drama. It worked out perfectly for her that I’ll be recording this album while she’s in her last trimester. By the time we’re ready to release it and start promotions and a tour, she’ll have had the baby and be ready to work again.
So, since Tammy’s off the list, I figure the next best thing is in a room a few floors below me. It’s still too early when I dial her cell, but I’m going to go crazy if I don’t talk to someone soon.
“Hello?” Mel answers, sounding sleepy.
“Um, Mel?” I say, my voice shaky.
“Shit. What did he do?” she asks immediately.
“How can you tell?” I question, amazed by her sixth sense.
“You’re all stuffy and it’s really early and he’s Mike,” she says matter-of-factly. “I knew he wouldn’t let it go last night. Where are you?”
“In my room, but I’m supposed to go to the studio in a while. I’m not sure if he’s going to be there… I need help, Mel.” I’m not above pleading at the moment even though all of this is completely humiliating.
“I’m
on my way,” she tells me. “Order us up some breakfast. It’s going to be okay, I promise. Joss will be with you too, and I’ll stay at the studio as long as you need me. In the meantime, we’ll call Tammy. She’s going to have something to say about this for sure.”
“Thank you, Mel.” My voice quivers. “I know you hardly know me… I’m sorry to bother you with this.”
“Stop it. We’re friends, and friends help each other out. I’ve been on the receiving end of Mike’s fuck-ups. I’m not going to let him blow up your life too. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Okay.”
We disconnect and I hoist myself out of bed before shuffling to the bathroom. When I get inside, one look in the mirror tells me that I look every bit as bad as I thought I would.
“Jenny Lynn,” I tell my reflection in the mirror, “if your mama could see you now, she’d tan your hide. You can’t ever let that man or any other do this to you again.”
I grit my teeth, strip, and submerge myself in the hottest water I can get.
By the time Mel and I have eaten and dressed, I at least feel like the worst of the night has washed off me. My eyes are still puffy, but my nose is almost back to normal, and getting my hair unknotted and clean has helped too.
Mel is sympathetic, but she’s also a woman of action. “All right,” she says after I’ve told the story in all of its humiliating and tacky detail. “So, you still want to do the album, right?”
“Yes,” I say. “But I’m not sure how I’m going to be around him twenty-four-seven for the next three or four months to do it. What now?”
“The first thing we’re going to do is call JR,” she tells me. “He’s renting a place here in Dallas, and I know he’d let you stay there.”
“What? Oh God, no. I could never—I just couldn’t. I hardly know him, and it’s too much to ask anyway.”
“It’s not, Jenny. It’s not too much to ask. You’ll both be working most of the time anyway. He has plenty of money. he won’t mind letting you have his spare room. And, best of all, it’ll drive Mike insane.”
Lowdown and Lush Page 8
