Andy Stevenson vs. The Lord of the Loins by Kage Alan Read Free Book Online Page B

than likely going to have sex. What did that say about me?
    I liked being wanted. If everybody else could be wanted, so could I. I wanted my night of passion.
    Tristan didn't wait for an answer.
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    5
    Hero Takes A Fall” isn't just a song by The Bangles. My “night of passion” turned out to be a whole whopping minute and a half, maybe less. My insides felt like jelly, and it wasn't anything like that song by John Cougar or John Mellencamp or whatever the hell he was calling himself this week: “Hurt So Good."
    The sex wasn't like I remembered it being with Jordan. That had been romantic, seductive, affectionate, humorous and tender with just a hint of danger, like James Bond, except not having to worry about social diseases. Jordan had taken his time and actually included me in the event. Tristan just ripped me asunder like a bag of Cheetos—loud and satisfying for him, hollow and deflated in the end for me. It certainly wasn't making love, and I'm not even sure it qualified as my definition of sex, though I got the impression I'd just been royally screwed. There had been something missing from the experience. Communication? Oxygen?
    "You've got one hell of an ass.” He looked over and gave me the I-just-got-laid look. Grr...
    "That's...” What? Romantic? “...nice and, may I say, ex-ceptionally original."
    His mannerisms left a little something to be desired. To make matters worse, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't really know him well enough to know what his mannerisms even were, hadn't truly considered what I was getting myself into before I got into it and certainly hadn't gone about this very intelligently at all. What was his history? How many people had he been with? Was he looking for a relationship?
    "How many others are you comparing it to?"
    "You make...” He counted in his head. “...sixteen."
    "Excuse me?” I think I blinked several times as my brain refused to process the number he'd just so casually thrown out without any hint of affection for his victims. I mean, I wasn't asking for a textbook answer. He could have at least said I was the best of sixteen, make me feel a little bit better about it. “Sixteen?"
    He nodded.
    "You were only my second."
    "Who was your first?” Finally, a little interest on his part.
    "A cousin in California."
    "You had sex with your cousin?"
    "Cousin by marriage only.” I should have seen that question coming. “He made it a really memorable summer."
    "You mean last summer?” Tristan asked, and I nodded. “Oh, I thought you meant this year."
    "This year?” A little alarm went off in my head. “You mean you've had fifteen men since January first this year?” He nodded. “How many have you had total?"
    "I don't remember anymore, but I could look it up for you if you want."
    "You mean you keep records?” I was now getting that cliched sinking feeling. “I'm now a part of some sexual archive?” I gestured at him and then myself. “I thought maybe this was something special, that we could see each other on a ... regular basis ... like a relationship."
    "You mean like boyfriends?” He sat up on one arm and looked at me. “I'm not sure I want to be tied down in a relationship right now.” My face dropped. “But, yes, I would like to have sex with you again, just nothing more compli-cated. Boyfriends hold you back. I'm too young, and there're too many hot guys out there to do before I settle."
    "How honest of you ... now.” My voice was barely a whisper. There was so much going through my mind at this precise moment that I didn't know how to sort it out or what to deal with first if I did get it sorted out. Had I just been used? “I told you that I wasn't looking for a one-night stand."
    "And I said I wasn't either. I don't understand why you're acting so freaked out.” He frowned. “You accepted my invitation to come over tonight.” The grin reappeared. “And I'd do you again. Hence, not a one-night