Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

the mess on her stomach, shaking my head at myself.
What the fuck? I came on her?
Jesus.
Once she was clean again, I rinsed the cloth, soaking it
with warm water, and then folded it before laying it down
against her skin between her legs.
I had no clue how she felt, but I’d gone at her pretty hard,
and it was her first time.
“That feels good,” she said.
“Just hold it there.”
She laid there, doing as I said, and I stood under the spray
rinsing myself off and wetting my hair.
I tried not to look at her, but I couldn’t stop myself. She
was wet and naked and beautiful, and the only pure thing I’d
ever had.
And, of course, I messed her all up.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked, noticing the curl to her
lips.
“Shouldn’t I be smiling?”
Yeah, okay.
“This feels like the time I sat in a fountain once,” she told
me. “The water spilled around us, shielding us. Hiding us. It
was like a world within a world. One of my worst memories
but also one of my best.”
I smoothed my wet hair over my head over and over again,
that day like yesterday in my memory. If only she knew the
boy she was with in the fountain was the boy who just fucked
her.
Did she still hate him?
“Us?” I prodded.
I wanted to hear her talk about me. See what was still in
her head. If time had healed anything.