Chapter 7

Jigo

Her eyes were closed now, her long black lashes resting on her smooth skin. Her cheeks were still flushed from our lovemaking.

I smiled again. I couldn’t stop. So beautiful and adorably cute.

If only she wasn't obsessed with Carl...

Don't go there, buddy.

But still, I went. What else could I lose? Carl was already married to someone else. It still shocked me, the way the last three days went. But Carl made his bed, and he would soon find out what kind of a bed it was he’s carelessly claimed.

The important thing was that Fae was free now, regardless of what I thought about her or what we did together.

She didn't move when I carefully let go of our embrace. Her breathing was deep and regular. She had fallen asleep. It took a moment to bring her to my bed. She settled on my blankets and pillows like she belonged. I watched for a moment, enthralled, but I needed to use the bathroom. I got up to leave the bed for a moment.

The lamp was still on, providing a soft light to the bed and I couldn’t resist looking back. I wanted to watch her while we were entwined, every emotion and expression on her face as I pleasured her. And I realized I also wanted to watch her as she slept. If she knew what was going on inside my head, she would probably think I was a creep.

That's when I saw the bloodstain on her thigh as I stood there by the bed, next to the lamp.

I was stunned for a moment...

Honestly, I expected it. I hadn't heard of her having any other boyfriends. But I was away for more than two years when I had to attend graduate school in a business college abroad. She had been to law school, living independently by then—in a coed campus. It wasn't unreasonable for her to explore, given that Carl hadn't changed his treatment of her.

But I was wrong.

I should have known. Fae was fervently loyal. There was no way she would give herself to another man if there was a chance at being with Carl.

I carefully pulled the blanket and gently spread Fae's thighs.

Yes. She bled. Not excessively, but enough to prove what I already knew.

"Oh my... precious beautiful girl..." My eyes returned to her sleeping face. "Jesus, Fae... I'm your first..."

I had never had sex with a virgin. Not even in high school. My first time at fourteen was with a college girl who was experienced in bed.

This was the very first time.

I didn't know. If I have, I’d have been gentle. But she didn’t protest. She didn’t stop me. And she responded like she knew how to. Like she was familiar with this, with me.

I remembered that her eyes had glistened for a moment, unshed tears. But I thought it was because of the heat of our union. And then she was moaning and I...

Feeling dizzy, I turned and headed to the bathroom, splashed my face with warm water, then returned to the bed to carefully clean my girl.

Afterwards, I took care of myself in the bathroom. I cleaned myself, brushed my teeth and used mouthwash, shaved... then returned to bed and hugged the still-sleeping Fae under the blankets. I didn't want her to wake up embraced by a slob.

I pressed my forehead against hers. I savored the warmth of her body, which now resided in my heart.

Eventually, I fell asleep, still embracing my girl.

Fae

I knew it was already morning even though his eyes were still closed. It wasn't my first time waking up. I woke up once last night, left Jigo in his bed for a moment because I needed to go to the bathroom, what with all the alcohol and the full glass of water he made me drink.

I quickly took a hot shower, cleaned myself and the remaining makeup on my bloated face from all the crying and drinking. I brushed my teeth using one of the new toothbrushes I found stocked in the bathroom closet and used mouthwash, enduring the glare of the light. I didn't want Jigo to wake up to my morning breath and the smell of sweat because I planned to go back to bed and sleep in his embrace.

My head hurt, but not as bad as I expected. And I appreciated all Jigo’s aftercare—including staying with me. It could have been worse if he hadn't made me hydrate and take a painkiller. But before that, he rescued me. I didn't even want to think about what could have happened to me if he hadn’t followed me to the bar. it weren't him I was with last night.

I returned to the room and slipped under the comforter. His arms immediately wrapped around me when I squeezed in, again giving me the feeling of security his presence gave me last night. I sighed deeply. I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to move even an inch away from this.

I wanted to stay here as long as possible, pretending not to know that outside the door, a different world was waiting for me.

So I fell asleep again next to him...

Now it was morning, and soon he would wake up, too. We would talk about what happened to us last night like the adults that we were, sobered up and sane. And critical.

It didn't matter. For me, it was already worth it.

I didn't expect much for my first time, so, in fact, I was grateful for the pleasure and comfort brought by his embrace and kisses. My private area was a bit uncomfortable and sore, but I could bear the pain. I was surprised there wasn't much blood. It would have been embarrassing if his bed looked like I had my period—one of the horror stories of first times I heard somewhere growing up. I cringed, feeling both relief and terror. No matter that I hadn't even thought about my intact hymen from the first moment I was onto him. I got carried away by the rush of sensations caused by the pleasure he brought into the experience. My cheeks burned from his responses to my—ironically—naïve and reckless attempts to seduce him. Now that I was sober, I couldn't believe he went for it. That I was successful in luring the stoic Jigo to my bed. Or his bed, technically.

It felt like a dream, all of it.

Last night, with how much he had made me feel, I couldn't hold back anything from him. He deserved all I could give back—my recklessness, my uninhibited fervor to his lovemaking. I trusted, truly, that I was safe. That he would not mock me for it. Somehow, I knew he would not judge me for not holding back.

I didn't even have a hard time. It felt so natural with him.

I thought of Carl… and there I went. Of course, it still hurt like crazy. I didn't know when this painful squeeze in my heart would disappear as soon as I thought of him.

But Jigo was here. And because of him, I could somehow endure the loss. What he had given me last night restored something back. He had made me feel strong again.

Finally, I opened my eyes and thanked the thick curtains in the windows that filtered most of the harsh light from entering the room. It was enough for me to see his face without being blinded.

Jigo’s face was so gentle while he slept. If I could see an angel, it would be this. His skin was smooth, better than a woman's. The masculinity in his broad shoulders and aristocratic nose complemented the beautiful facets of his face. Though his lips were always tantrum-like straight, the softness of them surprised me the first time he kissed me. His kisses were perfect… more than I could expect or hope for to experience because there were horror stories about kisses, too, you know? No wonder he was so confident. Jigo knew he was one of the hottest men a woman could have, that he was an embodiment of it. Add to that his wealth and intelligence and, yes. He was cream of the crop.

His kind of presence you couldn't help but notice when he was around, but I always felt awkward getting caught staring. I always thought it would be embarrassing if he ever caught on to the fact I secretly found him handsome. And hot.

What other things did I really like about him…? Hmm. He wasn't arrogant or conceited like other beautiful men. He wasn't loud or attention-seeking. I never heard him laugh loudly, always soft and sexy, except in the privacy of a den with his closest friends. With Carl. But he was so much more reserved outside that it lent mystery to him; made women go crazy over him. I would have thought this a technique, but he had always been this way. He guarded so many things inside his heart and tightly closed lips.

He wasn't Carl in so many ways. I had to admit, at least privately, that Carl paled in comparison to Jigo.

I thought he was deeply asleep, but his eyes were suddenly open, as if he woke up alerted by something.

Probably because I was watching him like a hawk and thinking hard about him like I was enamored. I didn’t know. His eyes looked straight at me, and he didn’t even pretend he was still sleepy. He was just wide awake and staring back at me.

My cheeks warmed up—I couldn't control it. Under the blanket, we had no clothes, and everything in me was suddenly very much aware of this.

"Hey, beautiful..." he greeted me in a rough, yet gently toned, baritone that vibrated through me, tickling the surface of my skin and a few heartstrings. Not that it was of any help. My blood rushed since I had thought about how pleasurable his lips could kiss, and that I would never get tired of them.

I swallowed. Why did it feel like what happened last night was more than just sex? 

He made love to me.

It wasn't rough or rushed. He was gentle, sweet, and passionate when he couldn't control himself anymore. When I needed him to be.

I swallowed again at the memory.

His eyes were observant, watching whatever he could see on my face as if hungry for every little bit he could find of whatever that was. What could he be thinking?

"Good morning..." I replied. Almost shyly. But resolutely.

One of his arms was wrapped around my waist. One of my thighs was caught between his thighs. My head was lying on one of his arms. We were intimately… entangled.

His hand reached out to my cheek. "How do you feel? Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice still hoarse with sleep. I swallowed again, enduring the tingling sensation that ran down my spine. But because of his question, I took a moment to observe myself. Feel my body, my well-being. "Fae?" There was a hint of concern in Jigo's voice. And guilt.

"Just a slight headache," I quickly replied. "Thank you. You took really good care of me last night."

We continued to gaze at each other because his eyes were still searching mine, quietly carrying the more important question.

Did I regret it?

So I continued to lock eyes with him until he gradually relaxed.