Page 122 of First Chance

“Of course, I should. If I know what they are, then I can hide them or pay to fix them. I’ve had a spray tan twice a month for almost a decade to hide imperfections, my eyebrows are micro-bladed to fit my face perfectly, and my mother made sure my entire body was lasered hairless when I turned 18. Spanx and–”

“What are Spanx?”

“The shapewear that you ripped off me at that event.”

“That shit does not belong on your body.”

“It flattens my stomach in tight dresses.”

“That. Shit. Doesn’t. Belong. On. Your. Body.” He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. “You’re practically wearing a potato sack with my shirt on, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I want to fuck you.”

My breath hitches in my chest. “I look terrible, right now.”

“No, you look like a gorgeous woman with bed head, wearingmyclothes. It doesn’t matter what’s on the outside, you’re still perfect.”

“No, I’m not.” I shake my head in disbelief, refusing to meethis gaze in the mirror.

“Are you disgusted by me?” He tilts my chin back to center, forcing me to look at him.

“No,” I respond in astonishment.

“Do these change your mind?” He points to the scars on his face.

“What? No.”

“What about these?” He rotates his hands, showing his cracked skin and calluses.

“No, I like your hands.” My cheeks flush pink in my reflection.

He steps back, and I turn to face him. “Do these bother you?” He points to old stretch marks under his shoulder where his armpit and outer chest meet.

“Of course, not.”

“Does this disgust you?” He pinches the roundness of his nearly firm stomach. I shake my head and he drags an old wooden chair over that was sitting next to the wall, dropping down on it and jiggling the evidence of his beer intake. “How about now?”

“No, you know that it doesn’t.”

He loosens his towel suddenly, exposing himself to me fully. His dick is hard and heavy, and stands to his bellybutton as he reaches down to cup himself.

My throat is dry as I try to swallow, watching him spread his knees wide. “Would you have rubbed your perfect little pussy all over my cock earlier if you knew I had these?”

There are faint purple lines between his thighs from where his muscles have grown and stretched over the years that it took him to become this large and imposing man of the mountain.

“Yes, I would have.” I shuffle towards him until my toes touch his. “Because none of that stuff changes how I see you,” I admit, reluctantly, understanding his point.

“There isn’t a single part of you that should change, Jo. No matter how long you pick yourself apart in the mirror, no one will ever compare to you, whether you believe it or not.”

I don’t believe him, not even a little bit, but if I could see myself through his eyes, maybe I wouldn’t hate what I see so much. “You’re pretty good at this fake fiancé stuff.” I nudge his knee with mine, too shy to look at him.

“That’s because it isn’t fake fiancé stuff.” He stands up suddenly, tipping my chin to look at him. Our bodies are hardly separated and his cock is stiff against my belly. “All I know how to do is be honest. That’s what this is.”

“Can I be honest about something?” I glance up at him because I can’t stop looking at his hard length between us, but I don’t wait for his answer. “I want to know how it feels to touch you.”

“Jo,” he warns.

“I want to experience life on my own terms, Lochlan. I want to do this.”

“I don’t deserve any more of your firsts. If you want to know how it feels to touch a man, then you should wait.”

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