Page 2 of Painless
"Did you come?"
"Yes."
"Did she?"
"I don't know."
"My man," Jandro shook his head, "You would know if she did. That's okay, though. Not everyone hits a home run their first time. Did you do what I told you?"
"No."
"No?" His jaw dropped, eyes narrowing at me. "Why the hell not?"
"I didn't really have the opportunity."
"You were alone with a naked woman in your room. Herjobis to fuck. How is that not an opportunity? It’s a two-way street, man, you gotta make it good for her, too. The clit is the center of a woman's pleasure, you can't just--"
"She made it pretty clear she didn't want me to touch her aside from...what was necessary."
"Did you at least kiss her some? Play with her nipples, maybe?"
"No and no."
"Shadow," Jandro groaned, lowering his forehead to the table. "You're killing me, dude."
"This was your idea," I reminded him. "The whole sex thing has never mattered to me."
"Because you don't know what you're missing!"
I shrugged with a grunt, then took another long drink to a memory I would be all too happy to erase. The small, hesitant knock at my door. The curious glance at my face before jerking away with a soft gasp. Then the petite, red-haired woman climbed on all fours onto the bed, facing the wall. She pulled her underwear down, her dress up, and waited. Waited for me to take what she'd been paid for, and nothing else.
After Jandro and I left the prison, I started to figure out that most women weren't capable, nor had any motivation to treat me in the same manner as I'd been raised. Even so, women in general made me uncomfortable. Frightened women made me scared of myself.
I was capable of awful things. I killed men that rivaled my own size without breaking a sweat. But my brain was convinced the true enemies were half my size, coming at me with sharp blades, and taking joy in making my blood spill on the floor.
None of these women here wanted to hurt me, but my basic instincts seemed to keep missing the message. I’d never been able to fight back before. Now, every time someone came near me, I felt the need to defend myself.
What if I fucked up? What would happen if I was too rough with a woman much smaller than me? I used to fantasize about making my torturers suffer. Now I was afraid to find out what my strength was capable of.
I had seen the terror in women’s eyes, the way they screamed and tried to flee as men began to violate them—before a Steel Demon put a bullet through their attackers’ heads. The women out here avoided my eyes and made themselves smaller, as though hoping I wouldn’t see them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they expected me to hurt them in the exact same way other men did.
I should have just locked my door and jerked off.
"Bro, listen." Jandro flattened his palms on the table. "I hope this doesn't sound weird coming from me, but you're not a bad-lookin' dude."
"What?" I snarled at him, but it had little bite. The whiskey was finally making its way into my system, lulling me into delicious numbness. However, that didn't make his statement any less confusing.
"Every woman in this service center has checked you out at least once. But once they're in your line of sight, they scatter like mice."
"Because of my face," I told him. "Because of all this." I ran a hand up my forearm to indicate the extensive scarring under my sleeve.
"Nah, man. That ain't it." At least the loudmouth VP was talking quieter now. "It's because you look at everything as a threat. Like you've already fantasized about the most efficient way to kill something, and are just waiting for the chance to do it."
"That's notalwaystrue."
"I know, dude, because I know you. But that's the vibe you give off to people whodon'tknow you. No one wants to get in your way because they want to keep their heads attached to their necks."
"Okay. So what do I do?"
