Conditions

I didn't answer. He looked at my face with probing eyes.
"I'm waiting..." he probed.
"Why do you masturbate?"
My question caught Roman off guard. He was quiet. But his expression didn't change.
"To feel good?" he asked. "It's really a great way to release some stress and relax the muscles, to detox."
I felt my chin jerk up defensively in response. "Yeah, right!"
He paled. "Wait wait. Wait!" he said in a troubled voice, shaking his head in disapproval. "You've never masturbated?"
I didn't answer. I didn't have to. "Jeez, you're seventeen and you've never had an orgasm?"
I buried my face in my hands. "Well... I—"
"Don't answer that," he cut in. "You'll only embarrass yourself further."
"You're such a duck," I said, pulling my face out of my hands to see Roman wrinkling his nose again. "When did you lose your virginity?"
"I was never a virgin." His face twisted. His sweet husky voice, which was serious, turned light again. "I was a thirteen year old clueless boy. The hand doesn't exactly prepare you for the amazing warmth of a pussy. Not my finest moment."
"Thirteen? You weren't a boy. You were a baby," I mumbled my horror. "And how old are you now?"
"Twenty-eight."
My stomach plunged uncomfortably. No wonder he said I was a kid.
He looked at me strangely. I grimaced. "So fifteen of years experience."
Roman decided to change the subject. "What did you want?" he asked instead, ducking his head so that his eyes were closer to being on the same level with mine. "Surely you didn't come here to ask me about my sex life?"
I stared at the floor, hiding my blush. I did a lot of that lately — blushing — when I looked up he wasn't in the room.
"Roman?" I whispered. My eyes searching for the looming danger.
The gentle, amused answer came from right behind me. "Hmm?"
I twirled, frightened, I hadn’t expected him to be so close.
"Ah!" I exhaled, my breath shaking unsteadily as a hand flew over my racing heart. “You startled me.”
He stood, grinning massively, leaning against the windowsill, his arms crossed over his chest, looking more beautiful in the morning sun than anyone had the right to.
"My apologies," he said through clenched teeth as he tried to hide his laughter. A low sound escaped, he covered it with a cough.
"So glad I can amuse you," I mumbled sarcastically.
Roman leaned forward slowly, cautious not to startle me again. He placed his hand over my racing heart and under his touch my heart stopped. He frowned, being thoughtful when it picked back up at twice the normal speed.
I tried to move away from him, but my knees were too weak. He wound an arm around my waist, leaning his face towards me, and then inhaled against my neck.
There was a hollow roar behind my ears and the room was suddenly spinning. My breath labored.
When he pulled away he stared at me with such blistering gaze that I would have bolted — before he could see how much he affected me — if I wasn't locked in.
He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. He shook his head slowly.
I leaned back, away from him. "You made me late for school," I mumbled quietly, my voice not hiding an ounce of the hunger I felt.
Whatever he saw in my face, it made his jaw tighten in anger. His eyes flashed and narrowed. They cast a vague disapproval. "What time is your first class?" he asked instead.
"In ten minutes." My voice was weak.
"Okay, I'll get you there on time." He disappeared for a second and when he came back, he was clad in dark jeans and a red t-shirt.
I gulped when I realized it was the wall I was leaning against for balance, not my legs. I needed a few more seconds to gather myself together.
"Let's go," he said, his long, lean fingers grabbing his wallet and keys. His eyes were tortured as he turned to face me. "I've never done this for anybody."
"What? Drive them to school?" I asked in a hollow voice.
He stared at me blankly and then his eyes flickered to the wall. "No, go out into the world looking like shit."
I nodded, still weak.
Roman suddenly jerked his head back toward me. "You must be something special there, Nuru."
I stared at him with my jaw clenched in frustration as I followed him to the garage. He left the passenger side door open for me, and walked over to the driver's side.
"You must be rich," I accused. "Your house, your cars..."
"Not really," Roman sighed.
"Stop being modest," I chided.
The familiar purr filled my ears but after a good ten seconds the car was yet to move, I looked at him in question.
"You don't really expect me to read your mind now, do you?"
"Seriously?" I turned my eyes at him, my voice flat. "As if you've never been to my school."
He chuckled. "I was kidding."
"Oh, I know."
"Then why didn't you laugh?"
I smiled at him. "I'm laughing now. Ha ha ha."
He smiled and I joined him. "Such a weird girl."
The tires squealed as he did a complete three sixty, accelerating much too quickly, he pressed on the gas and I made a silent prayer.
"Are you okay?" he asked, worry lines on his forehead.
"No, actually."
"Wanna tell me what's bothering you?"
It was his driving. The Jerk drove like a maniac.
"Why did you pay Bill?" I asked instead.
He was shaking his head. "Me, getting you out of a life you didn't want bothers you?" He stared at me for a second before turning back to the road — thankfully.
"No," I said curtly, angry that he even thought that. "But your reasoning behind it might."
His eyes flickered back to me and then back to the road. I noticed that unsatisfied glint in his eyes.
We stopped at a red light and a couple walking down the street pointed to his car in awe. The man — blond, green-eyed, took out his Samsung and clicked a few pictures.
"What car is it?" I asked.
He looked up briefly at the orange... green light and then turned the corner.
"It's a Porsche, 918 Spyder."
"Oh." I didn't know anything cars anyway. I looked down, nervous. Why did it even bother me that he chose to ignore my question. I shouldn't have any expectations.
He sighed and said, in a hard, controlled voice. "I had to get you out of there. I realized you aren't as smart as you thought you were. A—"
I interrupted him. "Don't you —"
"You could do with talking less, generally." His low voice was gruff and angry.
"Okay... sorry."
"I figured that your luck was running out." He was scowling at my panicked expression. "If I was another man, one that wanted to be entertained, it wouldn't have gone as smoothly."
I stared guiltily at the dashboard.
"What were you thinking? Drugging men like that?" His voice was cold, as he stomped on the gas, angrily pushing the car to its limits. "We live in such a skewed economy — where women are reduced — in the minds of some men — to objects. Do you realize that you could've gotten yourself killed?"
"Sorry," I whispered, nervously fidgeting with my fingers across my lap.
Then Roman spun around a corner and raced forward. I clutched the seat with desperate, frightened hands.
"You can't just go around putting yourself at risk like that."
Roman took a few deep breaths to calm himself. I reached across the short distance between us to put a calming hand on his shoulder but he moved closer to the window, farther away from me. Rejected, I pulled my hand back. "Thank you... I'll pay you back."
Roman turned the car east on Marine drive, the car disappearing in his haste through the familiar streets.
"I don't want your money."
"Still..." I said. "I don't expect free passes in life."
"If you insist," Roman growled, and a shudder rippled through his muscular back. "Should I make it a loan? An investment maybe?"