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show a few of those to Richards? I’m sure he’d like one of them.”
    “I already have. The ones you read were rejected pieces by the editor himself.”
    She scowled. “I stick by my opinion then. He’s an ass.”
    “Oh, he sure is,” Jake said, taking another sip of his wine. “If he accepts an article by the ravishing Madeline Bridges on why Cheryl Cole’s rose tattoo on her butt failed, then he most definitely is a major idiot.”
    “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she mouthed slowly with shock. “Those butts were goddamned beautiful and with those roses on Cheryl Cole’s cheeks, they were massively hot.”
    He chuckled. “I know. But we may possibly be the minority holding to that opinion.”
    She leaned into him, nuzzling her nose into his neck. “Don’t you worry. Someone’s bound to recognize your gifts sooner or later.”
    He pulled her head up by her hair. “Like you did?”
    “There’s a lot more talent you possess other than writing,” she murmured, running her fingers down his pants.
    “Well, isn’t it unfortunate then that Richards doesn’t take it in the ass?”
    She glanced up at him with stupor and then burst out into a series of hysteric laughter.
    “What?” he asked with puzzlement, annoyed that she had broken the moment between them.
    “Come on, Jake. Sometimes you do spurt out the most wildest of ideas.”
    “I was being serious.” He shook his head with disappointment and then leaned over and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “If the guy was even the slightest attracted to men, I would have possibly tried seducing him into bed.”
    She arched an eyebrow with interest. “Have you ever slept with a man?”
    “Not yet.” He smirked. “But there is always a first time. And he would have given me a good reason to try out new experience.”
    She threw up her hands. “Okay, that’s it. I need to gargle out the disgusting bile in my mouth.”
    “What did I say? You’re not homophobic, are you?”
    “No! Of course not,” she dismissed fervently, downing a half-glass of wine in one gulp. “It’s the vision of you wasting your first time on a weasel like Carlton Richards that’s got me puking. First times are meant to be special. You share them with someone you have at least some degree of feelings for. You want to remember it forever. And to think you’d remember it with a douche like Richards… gah! Oh, get that image out of my head. I can’t believe you said that!”
    He let out a laugh. “I’m sure he isn’t that bad. He might even surprise me with some talents of his own.”
    She squealed, playfully kicking at him as he came over her.
    He caught her hands and pinned them above her. “What about your first time? Do you remember that?”
     
     
     

     
     
     
     
    Her first time? How could she ever forget?
    Amy grew quiet, her body loosening in his arms. “Depends on what you call first time.”
    Her sudden somber expression clouded her once cheerful face and her eyes were now glazed by her memories. He knew then he had touched on an extremely delicate and sensitive part of her.
    He lifted off her slowly. “Are you okay?”
    She sat up, brushing her hair back off her face. “Yes, I’m fine.”
    He withdrew to the end of the couch, giving her some space as he peered concernedly into her face. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”
    “No.” She shook her head and filled her glass with wine to the brim.
    He sat quietly, letting her mellow with her thoughts for a while. “Do you want me to leave?”
    “No.”
    She smacked her lips after another gulp of her wine and then threw her head back against the couch. “I got sexually abused when I was eight years old.”
    He tensed. He touched her shoulder lightly, caressing her skin with the tips of his fingers. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Amy.”
    She palmed her face tiredly. “Is it okay if I did?”
    He put an arm around her and drew her to him.
    She didn’t need for him to tell