Page 29 of Wild Child
“I can’t do this, Charlie; it was a mistake. I won’t be responsible for taking your virginity.”
Anger flares in my belly. Why can’t he see that there’s something between us, and it’s more than a quick fumble? I like him. I like him a lot. And now I’ve humiliated myself. I’ve thrown myself at a man who doesn’t want me.
Tears of humiliation sting my eyes, and the last thing I want is for Quentin to see me cry.
“Fine.” I step out of the shower and grab a towel from the rail. “You can live your life under a rock, Quentin, over thinking everything, but that’s not how I live. I like you; I want you, and I know you feel it too. But you’re too much of an ass to see it.”
I fling open the door and head to the bedroom, slamming it shut behind me.
I thought we’d made progress, but the man’s impossible. I thought there was something between us, and all he needed was a push in the right direction. But I was wrong. He’s too set in his ways, and he won’t ever change.
16
QUENTIN
The bathroom door slams behind Charlie, and my heart shudders with it. I had no idea this wild child was a virgin. I never would have touched her if I’d known. It’s not right for a man my age to take something so special from her. She should be messing around with boys her own age.
The thought makes me clench my fists tight. I can’t think about Charlie being with anyone else, yet it’s impossible for me to give her what she wants.
Besides the age difference, Raiden would kill me if he knew I deflowered his little girl. It’s just not right.
I ignore my aching hard-on and turn off the shower. By the time I’m dried and dressed, I’m ready to face Charlie.
She may not understand why this can’t go any further, but she’s coming at it from the perspective of a twenty-two-year-old. I’ve been around long enough to know you can’t always get what you want in life.
Even if what you want feels so darn right.
Charlie is dressed when I emerge from the bathroom. She throws things into her bag without looking at me. Her body is tense and her shoulders rounded.
“Charlie…”
“Don’t.” She holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Quentin.”
She picks up her purse and dumps it on the floor, then busies herself with making the bed.
Her hair is wet and sticking to her cheeks, and she hasn’t done her makeup yet. She’s beautiful even when she’s angry at me.
Desire fires inside me, and I resist the urge to cross the room and throw her on the bed. If things were different, if she were older, if she wasn’t who she is, I could give in to my lust for her. If I was a different type of man, I would take her virginity and not care that we can’t be together.
But I’m not that man. I won’t give in to my selfish needs.
She looks so vulnerable bent over the bed with her hair still wet and her face makeup free. My heart aches for her. I want to cross the room and take her in my arms and say it can be different. But that would be a lie.
“We just can’t get into anything, you know that.”
She snorts and looks up at me. “No, that’s something you’re telling yourself, Quentin. But fine. You do you. I’m done.”
She grabs her makeup bag and heads to the bathroom. As she passes me, I step back and clench my fists to stop myself from reaching out for her.
She misinterprets my movement, and her eyes flash in anger.
“Don’t worry. I won’t throw myself at you ever again.”
“That’s not…” But before I can finish my sentence, she closes the bathroom door behind her.
I’ve messed this up. Instead of apologizing, I’ve managed to make her even more angry with me.
I run my hand down my face and it catches on stubble. I haven’t even shaved this morning. I never miss a shave. Butwe’re out of time. It’s another day at the festival, and I’ve got meetings.
