Page 80 of A Taste of Vanilla
He stills.
I can feel him smile against my neck.
“Don’t get smug,” I mutter.
“I’m not.”
“You sound smug.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You breathed smugly.”
“That’s a new one.”
“I’m creative.”
“I noticed.”
He lifts his head and the softness in his face makes my chest feel strange.
He kisses my shoulder once and moves off me, disposing the condom in the trash. I lie there and stare at the ceiling, trying to remember how to operate my limbs.
He returns with a damp cloth from the bathroom.
I push up on my elbows. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know.”
He sits beside me and offers it.
“Thank you,” I say, taking it.
My body feels loose and heavy, but my mind starts coming back online, which is inconvenient.
I just slept with a stranger.
I do not know his name.
You are one week out from being cheated on.
Oliver is going to murder you in the morning.
You are going to feel weird tomorrow. Your vagina may never recover.
He may have ruined you for anyone else.
Maybe.
Probably.
I press the cloth to my face and groan.
The man looks over. “Pain?”
“No. Brain.”
“Are you okay?”
