Chapter 21

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ELENORA

"Is all of this necessary?" Rico questions as I make a dividing line with the extra pillows in between us. "I mean, we've slept in the same bed before, a couple of times now."

"That was before you decided to finger fuck me." I stand back with my hands on my hips, admiring my work.

"You think this will stop me?"

I scowl at him. "If you want to keep your fingers."

"What about you?" He folds his arms over his chiseled, tattooed chest. "You got a glimpse of the jewels, who's to say you won't try to cop a feel."

"I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pool. Who knows what diseases that thing is carrying after all the women you've slept with and all the men they've slept with." The thought almost makes me gag. "Let me paint you a picture, okay? We'll use your friend who was drying humping you at the club. Think of all the men she's slept with and then you stick your dick in her and now you've got all their shit on you, too. Yeah, no thanks." I head to the bathroom.

"Are you calling me a man-whore?" He calls out.

I hide my smile before I walk out using one of the hotel toothbrushes and toothpaste. "I'm not saying you're a man whore, but your penis should be wrapped in a biohazard bag." I turn on my heel, walking back into the bathroom to finish brushing my teeth.

"So, let me get this straight, because I like sex, I'm the equivalent of a male slut?" Rico asks as I sit on my side of the bed, rubbing some lotion on my hands and elbows.

"No. I never said that and a slut has a completely different meaning. Liking sex has nothing to do with it, Rico. Regardless of what you said in the restaurant, you and I both know you have sex with multiple people for your own gain without thinking about the affects it has on the person you are with."

But then I stop myself. "You know what, forget it. You have your reasons for using sex as a way to express or fulfill whatever 'human need' you're missing and that works for you. Who am I to judge? All I'm saying is that when and if I sleep with someone I want it to mean something. That got taken away from me when I was...raped." I take a couple of breaths to not dwell on that awful fact. "My first time was something no one should ever go through, it was violent and...."

I pause, not wanting to go off the deep end, I take another deep breath before I continue. "The silver lining, I suppose is, I don't remember it, because I was unconscious, but that also bothers the hell out of me—not that I'd want to be present in that horrific moment, but how can someone get off on that?"

The look on Rico's face infuriates me. His expression is a mixture of worry, anger, but it bothers me more to see the clear look of pity on his face. "Don't look at me like that Rico."

"Like what?"

"Like you feel sorry for me. I don't want or need your pity." I climb into bed.

He turns off the lights and the bed dips when he climbs into his side. I wipe the silent tears from my eyes.

His voice fills the dark room. "I don't feel sorry for you, Elenora."

"Please don't lie to me. I know that look well, Rico. After I woke up in the hospital I saw it in my family's eyes, Clara's eyes, nurses, Dr.'s--everyone." I sniffle. "I'm tired, goodnight." He doesn't say anything in return.

I lay wide awake for a long time; Wide awake. I glance at the clock; it's almost two. I change positions several times, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable but continue fixing the wall of pillows between us.

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