His eyebrows furrowed. “You? Slow? Shit, that's not the Meg Willow Wilder everybody knows. They all said you'd have your lips wrapped around me by now...”
I froze up, staring at him like he'd just punched me in the face. Hot, drunken anger burned my cheeks, so sultry they'd rage like furnaces if I reached up and touched them.
Okay, sure, I knew I had a reputation. But he was calling me a slut to my face, and expecting me to act like one. Consider me blindsided.
“You've been talking to other guys about me?”
Crawford's turn to blush. “Meg, come on, it's not like that. I just mean I thought you'd want to have some fun tonight, that's all. I didn't know you'd become a good girl overnight. Baby, who do I look like?”
Smiling, he inched towards me, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “You don't have to use your mouth with me for anything but a warm-up. Your friends talk a lot. I know you're still a virgin in one way, Meg. I know I'm good enough to fuck you. Why are you fighting this so hard, baby? Give me what I want tonight, and I'll give you all kinds of things that'll make you scream.”
This couldn't be happening. Was he seriously bribing me? Trying to buy me off with some sick quid pro quo? Hell, with the way he'd been talking, he probably just wanted to bang me and brag about it to his friends.
My eyes bugged out as I fought him off, pushing through the cool mountain pool, covering my boobs with one arm.
I'd heard enough. I turned my back to him, swam several strokes to the rocky wall lining the pool, and clambered out. Crawford yelled something after me, but I barely heard him over the burbling waterfall next to us.
“Meg, wait! We can talk this out. I'm sorry, I got carried away. Come back!”
I couldn't believe it. Just when I wanted to get my life together, this asshole rubbed my reputation in my face, acting like he expected me to suck him off just because I'd been a total slut in the past.
Well, those days were over. I found my dress and towel laying on the nearby cooler where I'd placed them. I quickly dried myself off and dressed.
I didn't want him to follow. If he had another chance to talk to me later, it'd only be after I cooled off.
Maybe I'd whored myself to too many men. That was my mistake. But nobody treated me like they were entitled to my body or my family name, and I wasn't going to let Crawford be the first.
I didn't care if his family was a little richer than mine. Being a Wilder gave me all the wealth I'd ever need. It also meant I wasn't backing down for anyone who came after my ego, whether or not they had some truth behind it.
I stomped into the forest, heading onto a half-overgrown path. The clear night stars shone overhead, complemented by a huge summer moon. A walk would clear my head, take the edge off his stupid comments. I'd return in an hour or two and go from there, depending on how I felt.
I knew Becky would be screwing around with Tim Yates for a few more hours. I expected to stumble across her in some corner of the forest, rolling in the dirt with her latest dirty talking pump and dump crush.
They never lasted long. I could say the same, and the old Meg would've just shut up and went along with Crawford for the night, if only he were a better kisser.
I hated getting older. Thinking about my career, my family, finding my future husband just brought more anxiety. But nothing made me more anxious than thinking about the party lifestyle forever.
I couldn't creep toward thirty still acting like I was twenty-one. No fucking way.
When I came into a cool, dark clearing, I stopped to admire the view. The moonlight came down through the break in the trees. I walked over to the smoothest mountain boulder and sat, feeling the dew veil against my legs.
God, what a beautiful night. So, why was it becoming so ugly?
Soft, transparent mist swirled low on the ground. They didn't call them the Smoky Mountains for nothing.
I was busy focusing on the beauty when I heard something snap nearby. I spun and saw a figure coming through the darkness. Figuring it was Crawford, I bolted up, folding my arms, ready to hear his pathetic apologies.
“Look, before you start, I'm not in the mood for excuses.”
“Excuses? My, my, girl. I'd say you're right out of a dream, standing here in the dark up in these mountains, but you're too angry to be a fantasy.” His voice was older, too arrogant and gravely to be Craw's.
I whipped around and faced a tall, rugged looking man with a cap pulled tight over his eyes. He wore tight jeans and an open shirt. He looked like he'd just wandered out of a lumber mill or something.
Great. Running into weirdos up here in the boonies was exactly what I needed.
“Sorry. I...I thought you were somebody else.” I looked him up and down, sizing him up. “What're you doing out here?”
He smiled, raising an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing. Seems you've gone a long way from the party happening down by the springs.”
Crap. How did he know? We must've been really noisy, or else he just knew his turf that well.