UNHOLY - A Bad Boy Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

hated seeing him so defensive all of a sudden. I wanted him to be playful again, and lighthearted. I wanted him to look at me like he did a moment ago. I guess I would pay for that feeling again after all. I was too tightly wound. I was too uptight. Maybe he had a point and wasn’t a total meathead.
    “Well that’s a very nice penis,” I said, hoping for the first time that I hadn’t hurt his feelings. I felt the beginning of a headache forming. He nodded and tucked himself back into the waist band, and I must admit, I was sorry when he put it away again, and I stared for a few moments at his crotch, almost missing the sight of it there.
    “Sorry for calling you an idiot all the time.”
    “No problem.”
    “And sorry I insulted your …profession.”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    “So …will you?”
    He flashed nervous eyes at me. I don’t know if it was because I had just seen his pink, bulging cock, but he suddenly seemed kind of naked in the way he was looking at me.
    “Let’s go home,” he said.
    He zipped his hoodie up as high as it would go and started the engine, and we drove home in silence. I felt the smoky feeling in my head subside a little, and came down with the strong impression that things were now changed permanently, and would never be the same again. It was comfortable with him now, somehow, and yet deeply terrifying all the same.
    He dropped me outside my house.
    “Use some eye drops and brush your teeth. If you still feel the same tomorrow morning, I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Eight
     
    I used some eye drops. I brushed my teeth. I lowered my eyes and went up to my room. Even if I had bumped into my mom, she probably wouldn’t have detected anything, seeing as her pamphlets probably told her that those who did drugs sprouted syphilis sores on their forehead in the shape of the word UNCLEAN or something.
    I closed my bedroom door and tried to think.
    Did I really have issues? Issues about you-know-what? What was the point of being a virtuous virgin if nobody wanted me anyway? It was an ugly thought, that men would want something other than purity in a woman. That Reverend Peters maybe didn’t know everything about the hearts and minds of men. Or women, for that matter. It had never occurred to me before that my virginity could actually be a handicap. I felt thrown off balance. And worse, I now had three secrets. Or even four? Five?
    I went to my bed and lifted the covers, pulling out a secret box hidden underneath. Stashed inside the box: a few items that Aunt Carol had mercifully pretended she hadn’t noticed me steal from her Oh! So Good bag of tricks. There was a small packet of “personal lubricant”, which I had not decided how I would use yet, a cheaply made black g-string with a magenta bow at the center, some body glitter, a ribbed condom and a small jar of edible chocolate body paint.
    To another woman, all of this might have seemed like tacky junk, but to me it was a little treasure chest of something powerful and dangerous, a dress up kit where I could play at being everything I wasn’t. I wasn’t that surprised to see his dick, honestly, but I was surprised by how much I liked it. I briefly thought about how there didn’t seem to be any room, on any of my Pinterest boards, for such a tacky pink-and-black theme like this one. 
    These new thoughts thrummed over me: maybe my mother was wrong. Maybe Aunt Carol, with her freckled hands and over processed hair and mid-life crisis …maybe she was right. Maybe he was, too. I stripped down, slid on the g-string and took a long look at my reflection. Wrapped round the mirror frame were faded and torn cherub stickers from first grade, some plastic flowers. But inside the frame was a young girl in black lingerie. It was a striking, and uncomfortable mess. It was an accurate picture of my life, in other words.
    I ran experimental hands down over my body, trying to find answers there, trying to determine that precise fold or