Š 2016 Jane Matisse All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the express permission from the author or publisher as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author. The Blogger & The Hunk is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found therein are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons alive or dead, actual events, locations, or organizations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. For information, contact the publisher, Hot Tree Publishing. www.hottreepublishing.com Editing: Hot Tree Editing Cover Designer: Claire Smith ISBN-10: 1-925448-40-1 ISBN-13: 978-1-925448-40-5
DEDICATION For Marie. You are one god-awful sister, but there is no one else I’d rather watch romantic comedies with.
DEDICATION CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER ONE What is a wallflower? The dictionary’s first definition states that a wallflower is a European plant called Cheiranthus Cheiri, which grows wild on walls and cultivates sweet-scented flowers. Yet, when society uses the word wallflower, they don’t mean sweet-scented flowers; they mean a shy, unpopular person standing aside, away from the crowd. Sometimes I wish I could be as sweet-smelling and pretty as a Cheiranthus Cheiri. Then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have such an urge to hide under the bedcovers whenever my friends suggest we go out on a Friday night. DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Blog Entry 54 “I’m bored.” “Do something.” “Like?” “Well, for one, you could start by going out and talking to real people rather than turning into the hermit you’re aspiring to be.” Penelope grabbed the pillow from behind her head and aimed it toward Celeste’s forehead. “Hey!” she protested. Penelope merely shrugged. “You deserved it.”
“Well, you asked a question and I answered,” Celeste responded, standing from her position on the couch and proceeding to fixing her already perfect hair. “You didn’t need to be so rude,” Penelope grumbled. Celeste sighed. “Look, Penny. You’re young, beautiful, and likeable. And no, I’m not just saying this because you’re my sister,” she interrupted before Penelope could reply. “I’m saying it because it’s true.” “Is there a point to this?” Penelope asked, beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. She never liked compliments. Oftentimes she found them a nuisance. Celeste let out a frustrated grunt. “Go out. Be a normal young woman for once. For fuck’s sake, you haven’t even gotten your first kiss yet,” she exclaimed. “What’s that Spanish saying Mom always uses? Se te va a pasar el tren.” “Hey, that’s not true. Technically I have been kissed before,” Penelope explained, trying in vain to defend herself. “And please don’t use Mom’s sayings. They don’t even make sense. What does a moving train have to do with boyfriends and getting married?” “Getting a two-second peck on the corner of your mouth by a drunk guy with bad aim doesn’t count. And the train is a metaphor for your love life, Penny,” Celeste deadpanned. Silence. “I hate it when you’re right. But what if I’m just waiting until the day I meet a person I’d like to make out with?” “You have to go through a lot of toads before you find your prince.”
Penelope groaned in annoyance. “Says the girl who started kissing boys when she was eleven.” “And it’s a normal part of adolescence, thank you very much.” Penelope rolled her eyes. Celeste sighed. “Honey, I love you.” She threw her arm around Penelope’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a bitch. You just have so much potential, and I’m afraid you’re wasting it sitting in front of an impersonal screen.” The buzzing of her cell phone saved Penelope from the rest of her sister’s speech. As Celeste spoke on the phone with her boyfriend, Penelope walked to the kitchen. She put a pot of water to boil on the stove and searched the cupboard for her ginger tea bags. As much as she tried to forget her younger sister’s words, they kept pounding into her brain. Celeste had it all wrong. Penelope knew she had the ability to get a boyfriend if she wanted to. She just didn’t feel like having to go through all the hard work of getting one yet. Her work and blog were her life. Why would she want to go to such trouble for a man? The dating game just wasn’t very appealing at the moment. It was better to be alone, even if it meant she would never get laid. Who needed sex anyway? There was a reason God made vibrators. “Oh, Penny.” Celeste cut into her unholy thoughts. She turned toward her sister. Long, beautiful chestnut hair, big, honey-colored eyes, and a wonderful hourglass figure. It didn’t help that her sister was much nicer than she was. Penelope tended to be
very antisocial and hostile when she wasn’t at ease. She looked at her reflection in the silver toaster: dull, dark brown hair, small, plain brown eyes, a size ten waist— about twenty pounds overweight for her short five-footone-inch stature—and a round face. She sighed and turned to look back at Celeste. “Hey, you okay?” Penelope nodded. She suddenly had a strong urge to be alone. “Thought I lost you there for a second,” Celeste said, her purse in her hands. The pot began to whistle, and Penelope quickly turned the stove off. “I’ve gotta go, Penny,” Celeste continued, looking down at her cell phone screen. “All right, I’ll see you later then,” Penelope replied, kissing her sister good-bye. Before she walked toward the door, Celeste turned to look at her. “You’ll think about what I said?” Not trusting her voice, Penelope forced herself to nod. It seemed to put her sister at ease because she smiled and walked out of the kitchen. Penelope heard the door to her apartment close, and felt very lonely. Well, what did you expect, smart-ass? You have no friends, you have no adventures, and to top it all off, you have no love life. You’re practically a vegetable. Okay, maybe she was being just a tiny bit dramatic. She did have friends, two best friends to be exact, and they had always been very patient with her hermit-like tendencies. Celeste, however, liked to dissect her personality; she would poke and prod until she found her most vulnerable
spots. Penelope snorted. What did she know? Celeste was two years her junior, yet she had her whole life planned out. She had it all: her high school sweetheart boyfriend (they would soon celebrate their six-year anniversary), a well-paying job as an accountant at a company located in LA, and the brains and drive to have graduated top in her class from a private university. It wasn’t that Penelope was jealous of her sister; she just felt a certain level of... Incompetence. Being the eldest only made matters worse. She was supposed to be the experienced one. She was supposed to be the one who led her younger sister. But what could she do? Everything seemed to come easy for Celeste. Penelope had to bust her ass to receive the B average grades in her classes. Instead of pursuing a career in science or math like her parents would have liked, she went for the only subject she could truly understand: Literature. Books were her life. When the world seemed to shut her out and hide her from view, books were always there to lend her a voice and take her to places she would never visit. Penelope had been so sure of the life she wanted to lead —quiet, filled with books, and it wouldn’t hurt to adopt a few dogs along the way. But now... now she wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted for the rest of her life. Damn Celeste and her beautiful A+ brain. Without giving it another thought, Penelope grabbed her cell phone from the couch and called the only person she could think of in her moment of need. “Steph? Hey, it’s Penelope. Listen, are you and Jazz still going out to Venice tonight?” Pause. Penelope took a
deep breath and sealed her fate. “I think I’ll take you up on that invite.” *** “Ugh, I still can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this piece of fabric.” Penelope was still debating whether to make Stephanie turn the car around or just walk into the club wearing a thin black lace skintight cocktail dress. She didn’t even know why she still had the thing hidden in her closet, much less how in the world Jasmine had found it hanging behind all of her clothes. She had bought it on a whim, as a way for her to reach her goal of 120 pounds. It quickly became a joke though when she saw how difficult it was for her body to rid itself of all the weight; so she’d placed it all the way in the back of the closet, just as she had put it from her mind ever since. Now she was wearing the blasted dress, which made her feel extremely uncomfortable. Not only was it really tight, it was also very short. Only two inches below the curve of her bottom. She was obviously not going to bend over to pick something up anytime soon. “Oh, Penny, stop crying. You know you look hot. You’ve got curves in all the right places,” Jasmine reassured Penelope, turning in the passenger seat to get a better look at her. Penelope grunted. Curves. Yeah, right. I would like to see her in “curves” like mine and try to find a dress that fit like a glove. She felt like a sausage more than anything.
Oh well, what was done was done, and all those thoughts about her going home had to vanish into thin air if the club they’d just stopped in front of was indeed the one they were going into. Stephanie parked the car in front of the building, turning it off and handing the keys to the valet. “Okay, so I guess this place must be fancy,” Penelope said in a lame attempt to make a joke. She tried to carefully step out of the car, making sure she showed no one her black underwear, the only pair she had that weren’t a boring shade of white or gray. A nice, lacy pair of panties that accentuated her bottom. Her fat bottom. She would’ve worn a pair of shorts like she was accustomed to when wearing dresses, but the dress was too short. Lord knew she wasn’t going to be able to walk much, unless she wanted her thick thighs to rub against each other and cause an uncomfortable chafing the rest of the night. Penelope successfully stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk. “Come on, Penny. We haven’t got all night.” Stephanie linked her arm through hers and all three walked toward the entrance of the bar to the security guard. “Name,” Mr. Muscles asked, never looking up from the clipboard in his hands. “We should be under Jessica R. plus two,” Jessica replied, ready to hand him their IDs. “I can’t really walk fast in these stupid heels, Steph,” Penelope whispered, trying her best to stand straight without toppling over.
“Well, get used to it and stop whining. It was your idea to say yes. We’re just taking advantage of it.” She grinned. “Thank you. Have a great time, ladies,” the security guy replied after approving and stamping their wrists. And with that, Penelope took in a deep breath and reluctantly walked into the darkened room. *** “Come on, Jack. Stop being such a lame ass.” “Alex, you know I didn’t want to come tonight. They’ve been busting my balls at work. I’m tired.” “Well, stop being tired, man. I see lots of hot asses in here tonight. Live a little.” Jack just shook his head. Yes, he loved his women beautiful just like any other hot-blooded male, but tonight he just wasn’t feeling it. He had been planning on a quiet Friday night with some pay-per-view, a tub of popcorn, and a couple of beers. Unfortunately, his friends Alex and Dylan had ambushed him and practically dragged him to the bar. “Ooooh, I think I spot a little kitten on the other side,” Alex said, getting ready to go in for the bait. He reminded Jack of a peacock ruffling his colorful feathers, getting ready to catch a mate. “Need a tagalong? Her friend looks hot,” Dylan offered, eyeing the fit brunette in the hot-pink dress. To Jack, she looked nice, but her dress reminded him too much of a gumball. He shook his head slightly. He was just bitter that he wasn’t at home.
“Yo, you comin’?” Alex asked Jack, still eyeing the blonde, trying not to lose her in the crowd no doubt. “They’ve got two more hot friends you can choose from,” Dylan offered. “Or you can choose them both if they’re into that sort of thing,” he added, grinning. “Nah, you guys knock yourselves out.” Literally. Alex and Dylan merely shrugged and headed off to their targets without another word. Jack went back to his watered-down Scotch, and looked at his watch for probably the tenth time since he’d entered the club. 11:30 p.m. “Christ,” Jack murmured under his breath. Thirty minutes. Only thirty minutes in the goddamn place, and he felt like he had been there for hours. He glanced at the entrance, thinking how long it would take him to reach it without getting noticed by his friends. Jack turned to where his friends were. They were busy flirting with the girls they were with. He saw his chance and nearly sprinted toward the door, weaving through people left and right, almost causing a few to tip their drinks over. He was unapologetic. The exit was in his line of sight, and he could almost taste freedom. Only too soon someone crashed into him. Jack grunted as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Instinctively he reached out to hold the person, just in case they lost their footing. He looked down to see a mass of brown hair all over the victim’s face. “I’m sorry,” came the squeaky voice. Just what he needed. Right when he was trying to escape, he would have the bad luck of a drunken girl falling over him. He didn’t
need her to puke over his nicely pressed dress shirt either, so he quickly let her go right as two other women grabbed her arms to steady her. “Penny, you okay?” the brunette asked. “I’m okay,” the mass of brown hair murmured, trying to move her hair out of her face. “You good?” Jack finally asked, not really paying attention to her answer, glancing toward his exit. “I’m fine,” she repeated, too busy fixing her mess of wavy hair to look at him. Jack only nodded and stood straight, ready to leave. “Jack, come join us. Dylan and I are gonna play a game of pool. The girls want to see how good we are.” Alex threw an arm over his shoulder. Jack grunted and let his friend lead him toward the pool tables. So much for my escape plan. “Fine, but I’m not playing,” he grumbled. *** Penelope just wanted to die. Only five minutes inside the club and already she had made a fool of herself. She looked at her reflection in her compact mirror, trying without much success to untangle the mess she had made of her hair. Wearing the red platform heels was definitely a mistake. Didn’t matter that they made her look at least four inches taller. She had no doubt she was going to fall again before the night was over. Maybe I’ll just tell the girls I’ll catch a cab home.
“No,” she said into the mirror. “You didn’t get all dressed up for nothing. This is your night to prove to everyone you’re not a pathetic loser. You have a life, you ha—” A knock that sounded more like a pound resonated through the door of the bathroom stall she was in. “Hey, you done in there? I gotta pee,” a woman’s voice yelled. She took one step out of the stall before the woman rudely bumped past her and slammed the door of the stall shut. Penelope shook her head and pushed past a few women before finding a vacant sink and placing her clutch on the counter to wash her hands. She took a little longer than necessary to gather her things before taking one more look at her form, smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles on her dress, and acknowledging her chubby complexion in the vanity mirror before stepping out of the bathroom. She scanned the bar, looking for her friends, and found them sitting on a sofa talking to a couple of guys. Two very attractive men for two very attractive women. Penelope wasn’t going to risk walking over there, especially when she’d only feel like an imposter. She walked toward the pool tables at the far right corner of the bar, dodging all the couples grinding on the dance floor. She found an empty seat on the corner of one of the padded benches. What the hell. Might as well watch some pool. She had been sitting in silence for a few minutes, watching the pool game, when the guy sitting beside her turned his face toward her.
“How’s the ankle?” he asked. Penelope quickly turned her attention to him. She stopped breathing for a moment. Blond hair, eyes a dark green in the dim lighting of the bar, lightly tanned skin, and a symmetrical face with a strong jaw. He could have been a model for a Calvin Klein ad. She realized she’d been staring and quickly composed herself, hoping that the dim lights kept him from noticing the blush spreading up her neck and into every part of her face. “Ankle?” she asked absentmindedly, then realized he must have been the one who’d caught her before she had a chance to hit the ground. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that. I tend to naturally be very clumsy and these heels definitely don’t help with that problem,” she explained with a small, nervous chuckle. The guy smirked a little at the sight of her red heels. “They really are nice.” Penelope blushed again. “Thank you.” They went back to watching the game of pool, silence taking over for a few moments before he spoke again. “Do you play?” “Uhh, I played once with my uncle and I somehow managed to beat him, which was a surprise.” She chuckled. The guy merely smiled and turned his attention back to the game. Penelope had the sudden urge to talk with him. He was one of the most attractive guys she had ever met. Someday when she was old and gray with her dozens of dogs, she’d be able to look back at this moment and
remember how accomplished she’d felt for being able to hold a handsome man’s attention with conversation. “What I don’t get about it is the betting. How do they know when to bet another dollar?” The guy leaned closer to her as she talked in order to hear her. Penelope’s senses were on high alert. This hunk smells wonderful. She would have completely melted on the floor during the next few moments if she hadn’t been trying so hard to look unaffected. She felt his breath against her ear as he explained. “Every time the player up is going to hit the ball, they bet another dollar. Whoever gets rid of all their balls wins the game and the money.” All Penelope could manage was a nod. God, she hoped she smelled good. It didn’t help that she was already feeling small droplets of sweat beading on her forehead. After a few moments, a cheer broke out around the pool tables. “Who do you think won? Even or odd?” the guy asked, nodding toward the game. Penelope looked at the table. All the balls left were odd. “Even,” she replied. “Good girl,” he said, smiling straight at Penelope. My God, he’s breathtaking. She did her best to smile in return.
CHAPTER TWO Being a hermit in training isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You miss out on the world outside. Doesn’t matter if you’re happy with your own company, and a pet— though a wonderful companion—can’t be what a human being needs to feel complete. Now, if only I could convince myself to listen to my own advice. DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Blog Entry 75 “So, got your eye on anyone?” Jack winced internally. He hadn’t meant to ask something so personal. He just wanted to have a decent conversation with the girl. Goodness knew he wasn’t really interested in her. She seemed nice, and his theory about her being drunk was obviously not true. There was something somewhat pleasant about her. It wasn’t attraction, of course. She was a bit too pudgy for his taste. And even though the dress she was wearing was pretty revealing and the heels screamed sexy, he found her too innocent for him. Inexperienced. He shuddered. His kind of woman needed to scream confidence, not chubby field mouse. Yet, he somehow couldn’t bring himself to walk away. “No. I’m here with my friends, although they’ve completely forgotten about me,” she replied, pointing toward the dance floor where a brunette and a blonde were each grinding up against hulking men. “Well, they seem like they’re having fun. Why aren’t you joining them?” he asked.
The girl turned toward him with a matter-of-fact expression. “Do I need to remind you what happened when I was merely walking in these heels?” Jack chuckled. He was feeling more at ease since talking to her, and it seemed her wall of insecurity was slowly crumbling. “I’m Jack, by the way.” He reached out for a handshake. “Penelope,” she replied, taking his hand and firmly shaking it. “Penelope. Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.” She laughed. “All my mother’s idea. My younger sister was the one who lucked out in the name department. She was named after a color.” “Well, she was named after a color while you were named after Odysseus’s faithful, and not to mention beautiful, wife. My guess would be that you were the one who lucked out. I took a few mythology classes in college,” he explained at the quizzical look on her face. “No, I wasn’t wondering how you knew the origin of the name. I was just surprised someone complimented it. It’s a bit out there.” She wrinkled her nose, which Jack thought endearing. “My mother is Nicaraguan, but she swears our ancestry reaches back all the way to the Greeks, which makes absolutely no sense because there’s proof that our ancestors were indigenous to Central America.” “Oh, I see.” Jack chuckled. “Well, it’s a beautiful name. Very fitting.” He mentally kicked himself a few dozen times. The more he spoke to her, the more foolish lines spilled out of his lips. And to top it off, he noticed her
blush return. The lighting in the bar did nothing to hide the fact that her cheeks turned pink every time he complimented her. He couldn’t remember the last time any one of his girlfriends or conquests had blushed, unless they were in the throes of passion. But that was a very different situation. “So what brings you here?” “It was Friday night and I had nothing to do, so I said what the hell and accepted my friends’ invitation to come and drink the night away.” “But you haven’t been drinking,” Jack responded. He hadn’t smelled a single hint of alcohol on her breath. On the contrary, whenever she spoke, he was hit with the scent of peppermint. Penelope smiled at him. It wasn’t breathtaking, but it was… pleasant. “Well,” she began, “I’m not really much of a drinker.” “Oh, come on. You’re at a bar, might as well drink,” he replied, suddenly feeling like it was his duty to show her a good time. “Yeah, I guess so.” “So, want to be my partner?” Jack asked, standing and stretching his arm out toward her. She looked at his hand for a few seconds, a startled look on her face, before placing her hand in his. “Okay,” she shyly accepted, and Jack suddenly felt his night get a little better. ***
“Wait a minute. You fell off the bike and the handle hit you straight in the mouth? That’s crazy.” he exclaimed enthusiastically. Penelope didn’t know how long they had been sitting at the bar. She had drunk three watered-down vodkas, but even so she felt dizzier than she should’ve. Her body wasn’t used to the alcohol. She stared at Jack’s face. He’d been pretty nice all night, and he seemed to genuinely listen to everything she said. “Yeah, I did. Almost lost my two front teeth in the process.” Jack gently touched her upper lip, pulling it up slightly so he could get a better look at her teeth. Penelope giggled like a madwoman and swatted his hand away. “I said almost.” Jack was a little buzzed, as far as Penelope could see. Of course, he had drunk much more than she had. “That had to have been one of the clumsiest moments of my life,” she commented. Penelope opened her clutch to sneak a look at the time on her cell phone. 1:00 a.m. Time did certainly pass when she was having fun. She found it unusual that her friends hadn’t come by to talk to her or steal her from Jack to go dancing. Penelope looked around the dimly lit bar and spotted them where they had been a little over an hour before. Both were busy dry humping their meatheads on the dance floor. Traitors. Well, she couldn’t really complain, could she? With a handsome guy giving her some attention, she doubted she’d let anything get in her way. He had been
approached by one too many gorgeous women, yet he always politely refused them, saying he was with her. Speak of the devil— “Hey, sexy.” A tall, red-haired beauty slid her hand around Jack’s shoulders. “Hey, lovely,” he responded, just like with all the rest. He smoothly grabbed her hand from his shoulder and held it in between both of his. Of course, Penelope was once again ignored by the female. Shocker. “Wanna dance?” the redheaded model asked. “I’d love to, but I was just about to ask Penelope here if she would dance with me,” Jack said, a small pout on his lips for show, and turned to Penelope. It took her a few moments to finally realize he was asking her. “Oh, umm, sure?” she replied, a little buzzed from the drinks. “Great. Let’s go.” Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her onto the dance floor without another word. She clumsily followed, tripping over her heels a couple of times. “What was that about?” Penelope asked once they were away from the model. She was ready to let his hand go, but she found he wouldn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he placed both her hands on his shoulders and grabbed her by the waist. She was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable. She was sure he felt at least a little weird holding her thick waist. She was bound to be at least twice as large as the models he was no doubt used to dating. But Penelope didn’t want to dwell on her stream of self-consciousness. At least, not for tonight. He had asked her to dance. Not the other way around. For tonight, she would not let anything ruin her fun.
“I really don’t feel like working tonight.” “Working?” Penelope asked. “Chicks like that require too much work. They want the world at their feet.” “Whereas girls like me don’t?” That seemed to stump him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I—well—I only meant—” He looked down at the tiny smirk threatening to turn into a smile on Penelope’s face. “You’re teasing me,” he stated, shaking his head. Penelope let out a hearty laugh. “So,” Jack began, “no boyfriend I have to worry about?” Penelope scoffed. “I’ve never had one,” she stated flippantly. “Never?” “You seem surprised.” “Well, yeah.” Penelope laughed as if he’d made some joke. “Come on, you’ve seen me. I’m not really capable of attracting anyone from the opposite sex.” She somehow couldn’t stop the word vomit that had taken over her. “Wait a minute. I’m here with you now, aren’t I?” “And why you are I’m still wondering myself,” she said, looking up at him curiously. Jack looked unsure what to reply, and Penelope tried to think of something to make up for her awkwardness. “So, no boyfriend ever.” A shake of the head was her response. “But you have dated before?”
Another shake of the head. “I haven’t even been kissed,” Penelope blurted out. She silently cursed her wagging tongue. Why can’t I stop this diarrhea of the mouth? Jack suddenly stopped swaying to the rhythm of the music. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. She was looking around, trying to avoid his gaze, afraid to find ridicule or humor in his eyes. She figured she might as well make a quick jest of it before he could. “Want to be my first?” She put on a teasing smile and looked up at him. There was no humor. The expression on his face was anything but humorous. Her smile slowly faded and her eyes widened in horror as she wondered what he might be thinking of her. “Why are you looking at me that way?” Jack slowly leaned in to Penelope until she could feel his warm breath tickling her ear. “Can I be your first in bed, too?” Holy shit! Where did that come from? Penelope’s knees buckled, but she did her best to keep her composure as much as she could with a vodka-muddled brain. *** “Stop fooling.” She nervously laughed, slightly smacking Jack’s arm. God, he wished he were. He didn’t know why he had asked her to join him for drinks. She wasn’t even his type, but something about the innocent look on her face or the
way she carried herself pulled him to her. It didn’t make sense, but hell, he wasn’t going to put much thought into it. He was beginning to feel a massive headache. At the moment, he was trying not to explode in his jeans. It was getting extremely uncomfortable down there, and he didn’t want to scare poor, innocent Penelope with his sexuality. “I wasn’t.” “Yeah, yeah,” she replied uncomfortably. “Anyway, it’s never been my priority to g—” Something in Jack snapped, and before he knew it, he had placed his lips on Penelope’s. He felt her surprise at first but then she seemed to slowly give in to his embrace. It wasn’t spectacular. There weren’t any fireworks, but it had to be the sweetest kiss he had ever experienced. It reminded him of a simpler time. A time when life wasn’t overwhelmed with rules and responsibilities. It was different from any kiss he had ever had. He slowly pulled away from her lips and looked down at her dazed face. She finally opened her eyes and looked straight at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, so softly he almost didn’t hear her. “My pleasure,” he responded. “Would you do it again, please?” And with that, Jack swept down again. This time his lips pressed a little more firmly against hers. He slipped his tongue out of his mouth and teased the seam of her lips until she opened for him. She tasted like the vodka she had been drinking with the slight hint of peppermint he had smelled earlier that night.
Penelope held Jack a little tighter and whispered against his lips, “I might as well come right out and say it before I chicken out. Be my first.” She looked up at him with expectant eyes. *** “Oh shit.” Penelope had startled herself. Was she really going to go through with it? Sex was no game; neither were STDs. She’d have to make sure they took the right precautions when the time came. Her lips were still burning from his kiss. It hadn’t been what she had imagined a first kiss would be, and it had been better than the crap her sister told her: “You need to kiss a lot of toads in order to find your prince.” Jack was definitely not a toad, and that kiss was anything but awkward. She watched him take care of the tab at the bar, and then he was in front of her, taking her hand in his and leading her toward the exit. “Penny, where are you going?” Stephanie came out of the crowd on the dance floor. “I’ll call you later,” Penelope mouthed, miming a pretend phone with her hand. Stephanie looked at her, then looked at Jack, her eyes widening. She gave her a thumbs-up, and mouthed to text her later. Penelope’s escape was easy enough. God, if only her head weren’t such a mess. Well, this was the chance she had been waiting for. Something spontaneous that she could hold on to for the rest of her life. And if Jack turned
out to be not so nice, she had a can of pepper spray in her clutch. Jack held the taxi door open for her and she climbed inside. She stumbled a little, but immediately felt his strong hand at her lower back, holding her steady. “Longfellow and Sixth, please,” Jack instructed the driver as he sat beside her. Despite the space in the back of the cab, his body was pressed against her from shoulder to thigh. “Is that where you live?” “Yeah, it’s my apartment,” Jack replied, then hesitated. “Unless you wanted to go to a hotel?” he asked, although he didn’t look like he really liked the idea. Penelope shook her head and was hit with a sudden shyness. “If you don’t want to do it anymore, it’s okay to say no.” When Penelope turned to look at him, he kissed her again. She responded with great enthusiasm. He trailed his lips and the tip of his tongue along her jaw and down to her neck. Penelope could hear her heartbeat pulsing in her head, and the sound of their heavy breathing was like music to her ears. “Oh God, Jack. I-I don’t usually do this,” a breathless Penelope whispered. “Shh,” he whispered. “I know.” It took them almost ten minutes just to get to Jack’s apartment door. Penelope found she’d drunk a little more than she had initially thought. Or maybe it was the combination of the kisses and the drinks that had her on
cloud nine. It took them a long time to get the key into the keyhole, distracted by kisses and earlobes that just needed biting, and then they stumbled into the apartment. Once inside, Jack turned on the light. Penelope looked around the apartment. It was surprisingly clean for a bachelor pad. Her eyes rested on Jack as he placed the keys on the coffee table, his gaze never leaving hers. “Why are you looking at me like that?” A tiny smile adorned his face. “You probably won’t believe me, but I don’t think I’ve brought anyone here before.” Penelope nervously laughed. “You’re not going to chop me up into little pieces now are you?” “No, I’m not. Not before I give you a drink at least.” He chuckled, walking over to his minibar. Penelope was suddenly hit with a wave of self-consciousness. A drink might just be the boost of confidence she needed. She wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight she was going to need all the confidence she could get. And if that meant drinking, then by God she would get shitfaced. She watched as he poured amber liquid from a decanter into two glasses with ice. “Take one,” he offered as he put the glass decanter away. “Thank you,” Penelope replied, taking the glass. She waited for Jack to take the first sip before she sipped from hers. She pointedly stared at everything in the room, avoiding Jack’s gaze.
He began to chuckle. “Why so nervous now? You were enthusiastic about this just a few minutes ago.” “I’m a virgin in all aspects of the word except for one.” Crap, there was the word vomit. Penelope glared at the alcoholic beverage in her hand. Stupid alcohol. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Well, it’s not like I haven’t had an… orgasm.” She whispered the word as if there were someone other than the two of them in the apartment. Jack looked at her. “Masturbation is a normal part of human life,” he responded slowly, his gaze so intense she thought she was in danger of bursting into flames. “If you’d rather not do this, I could take you home.” He sounded a little hesitant. “You’re too drunk to drive,” Penelope slurred. “A taxi. Whatever.” Penelope looked at Jack for what felt like forever and quickly gulped down the drink that was in her hand, letting it give her the boost of courage she needed. “Let’s go to bed, Jack.” *** Jack’s heartbeat went into overdrive, and his cock pulsed. He was surprised he’d even had the chivalry to suggest he would take her home if she wasn’t ready. He was as hard as he could be inside his jeans. He’d gotten a fucking hard-on the moment Penelope had suggested he sleep with her. He was still coming to terms with it himself. Maybe it had to do with the curve of her ass, or the look of
unadulterated lust in her eyes. There was something about Penelope he found intriguing. Her innocence, maybe? That hidden confidence that took a bit of digging to release from the deepest part of her personality. God, he wanted her against his better judgment; he wanted her in his bed. She stood before him, looking as skittish as a deer. Without another word, he leaned in and kissed her. He immediately felt her respond and heard her glass fall onto the carpet. Their breathing came in sharp bursts. Jack led Penelope through the small hallway leading to his bedroom. He walked her toward his bed until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the mattress, and they fell ungracefully onto the sheets. After getting themselves comfortable, Jack began to unbutton his shirt. He could see the desire in her eyes, the unconscious licking of her own lips in anticipation of his next move. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had looked at him with such unguarded emotions. His women were usually experienced, which was great for him, but they used coyness as a fetish rather than it being a personality trait. His large hand slowly slid up the hem of her black dress until it rested extremely close to her wet sex. Easy, Jack. You don’t want to scare her away, do you? He waited a little for Penelope to become more comfortable with the lack of personal space, despite his desperate need to be inside her. The slight changes in her expression were like turning the pages of a book. He pressed his lips against hers in an effort to distract her before sliding his hands around her lacy black underwear and slipping them down her thighs. She shuddered
underneath him, and he enjoyed her response. He drank it all in. It was her first time. He was going to be her first. This was going to be the moment she would remember for the rest of her life, so he had to be sure to make it the most memorable night. The thought stroked his male ego and it was about to make his head explode. Both of them, actually. He immediately jumped out of bed and heard her whimper in protest. “Hold up, let me turn the light on,” he responded before lighting a small lamp beside the bed. He turned back to climb on the bed, and stopped. Penelope was trying to cover herself against the dim light. He chuckled. “Too late for modesty now, don’t you think?” *** Despite the dimness of the lamplight, she was feeling a little uncomfortable. Darkness seemed to create an invisible cloak of confidence around her. Light made her vulnerable. Even a little light. Jack walked back to the bed and kissed Penelope, no doubt trying to settle what little nerves she had left. His hand finally reached for her sex and his finger slowly filled her wetness. She gasped against his lips, her breath caught in her throat. It was overwhelming, but she was too overcome with desire to worry about the embarrassing way she was huffing and puffing. No one had ever touched her this way before, let
alone undressed her. She could feel his hard-on pushing against her leg. It must be uncomfortable to be trapped in denim, she thought, trying her best not to lose complete control, which was apparently a difficult task when there was someone massaging her clit and stroking her. Penelope hadn’t been too keen on Jack looking down there. It wasn’t exactly pretty to look at, but he certainly didn’t seem to mind it in the least. “God, you’re so wet,” he whispered in her ear. How many nights had she daydreamed about a moment like this? A man holding her in his arms and showing her how much she was desired, whispering sweet, dirty nothings in her ear. Jack fit the bill perfectly, and he was skillfully moving his fingers with confident strokes. In, out. In, out. He continued stroking her as his thumb focused on Penelope’s clit, making deliberate circles around it, teasing her senses with featherlike touches while his other hand squeezed her breast. It was driving her mad, and she couldn’t catch her breath long enough to tell him to touch her the way she wanted. Then, as if he’d read her thoughts, his fingers began to add the right amount of pressure. She couldn’t seem to stop the movement of her body, grinding against Jack’s hand as she cried out. “That’s it. Let it go, Penelope.” She could no longer contain her panting and couldn’t stop from writhing. His dick was hard against her leg. Almost immediately she felt her release, squeezing around his fingers and letting out a sultry moan.
God. Before Penelope had a chance to catch her breath, Jack quickly got to work on her dress, pulling it up and over her head. Her first instinct was to cover herself, but Jack was two steps ahead of her and pinned her arms above her head before she could move them. He leaned over and nipped her neck. “This is very daring lingerie,” he murmured into her ear. “I was planning to be a little daring tonight. It was supposed to give me a boost of confidence,” Penelope breathed. “And did you get that confidence?” It took Penelope a moment to answer. “I’d like to think so,” she replied, her hands reaching around Jack’s neck as she leaned up to softly kiss his lips. He responded with vigor and quickly set to work on her see-through bra. He slowly slid the straps down her arms until her breasts were free for his eyes to feast on. Her milk-chocolate-colored nipples were tightly peaked against her light skin. She had been nervous to be completely naked in front of Jack, but he seemed to enjoy being pressed against her full form. The sprinkle of hair on his chest tickled her nipples. A moan escaped her lips. “Like that?” Jack asked. She could only nod. “Uhh, Penelope. You’re killing me here.” Jack’s denimcovered groin began to rub up against her wet sex. “Jack, I think I want you inside me now.” “You sure?”
“Just do it.” Penelope was getting annoyed and the need that was rebuilding inside her was making her restless. Playtime was over. She needed the real thing now. She helped Jack pull his jeans down, which was no easy task with their choppy, desperate movements. “Wait a minute. Gotta do something first,” he said with a heavy breath. Penelope looked down to see his fingers tearing at a foil packet. A condom. At least one of their heads was screwed on right. She watched in fascination as he slid the rubber down his long length. Jack finally kicked the jeans off his legs and flung them off the bed. He leaned over Penelope and touched his forehead with hers as she felt his breath on her lips. Their breaths mingled with one another’s and both of their bodies were beginning to turn slick with sweat. Penelope let her hands wander over Jack’s back, feeling the muscles that adorned his body. She slowly slid her hands down his spine, over his hips, around his sides, and reached the sprinkling of hair on his lower abdomen, just below his navel. *** “Penelope, what are you up to?” he asked breathlessly. “I’m going all the way,” she whispered, gently touching his hard cock. “Oh fuck,” Jack grunted. “As much as I’d like for you to keep touching me that way, we’ll leave that for another time.” He moaned, placing Penelope’s hand to his chest
instead. He slid his hand down to her wetness again, his fingers penetrating her entrance. “Oh my. Oh, God. Jack!” Penelope couldn’t stop herself from moaning his name. His strokes came faster and his thumb added pressure to her nub, which threw her over the edge with a cry, only this time, without letting her catch her breath, he entered her quickly, letting the largeness of his cock sink into her tight center. She stiffened beneath his weight. “You okay?” Jack asked, trying very hard not to give in and fuck her brains out. Penelope only nodded. He knew his cock must feel intrusive inside her tight body, but it would nearly kill him if she told him to stop. “I promise it’ll get better.” He rubbed her clit to ease the feeling of his cock. He could feel her growing wet again, making it easier for him to thrust at a steady pace. “Oh, God.” “Close, but not quite,” Jack joked good-naturedly, a bit breathless and tense. Penelope chuckled and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Jack, shut up. Just move.” He was a little confused at the command until Penelope began to wiggle her hips from side to side. “Oh, shit,” he breathed, and slid deeper inside her, then withdrew only to enter her wetness again. “Oh my. Yes, faster,” Penelope called out, her head thrashing from side to side, a clear indication of her submission to pleasure. “Wh... uhh... oh God, Jack.”
“There you go. Come on,” he replied, moving at a faster pace. He wanted to brand her, make her skin smell like him, and permanently mark her so she’d never be able to forget he was her first. It could have been the masculine boost he needed, or something different altogether. He decided not to dwell so much on it and focused on sliding his tongue along hers. “I-I’m almost... there... Jack.” And just when she reached the peak of her orgasm, her wetness closing in around his hard cock, he thrust deep. His balls tightened and his cum released. He grunted and groaned, slowly rotating his hips inside her, post-orgasm. His arms gave way and he fell onto his side, his head bent at the crook of her neck. After they had caught their breath, Jack stood to dispose of the condom in his bathroom trash can. “Sorry. I should’ve gone slower,” he said softly as he returned to the bed. A small snore answered him, and he looked down to see Penelope had fallen fast asleep. He chuckled a bit to himself and lay back down, pulling the covers above them both, his eyes closing. The last thought that popped into his mind was the hope Penelope wouldn’t cling to him in the morning.
CHAPTER THREE Speaking from experience, being a twenty-six-year-old virgin is a bit of a burden. I don’t have any virgin friends, and the friends I do have just happen to be gorgeous women with wonderful personalities. It’s obvious they have a lot of guys lined up, just waiting for a chance to breathe the same air as them. But my question to you, reader, is this: Is it any better losing your virginity for the sake of it? DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Entry 103 Penelope woke up to a throbbing head. Her eyes burned with the reflection of the sun in the room. She slowly opened her eyes, letting herself focus on her surroundings. Her eyes fell on a pair of boxer shorts on the floor. “What the fuck?” she murmured, her voice groggy. She sat up, and the covers fell to her lap, exposing her naked breasts. “What the hell?” she said, a little louder this time. There was a slight grunt and some movement to her side. Her breath caught in her throat, and she practically flew off the bed, grabbing a throw blanket off the floor and covering herself with it. The large body turned toward her and let out another sleepy sigh. “My God, he’s beautiful,” she murmured, trying to keep quiet. In that moment, everything that had happened the night before came to her in a flash. “Oh, my God.” The sex. The wonderful, pleasurable, mind-blowing sex. The moment Jack had first thrust inside her, she’d felt both a slight
burning sensation and a completeness. She was no stranger to penetration. She had used slim vibrators before. The only difference was that this time, it had been a real cock inside her and it was larger—much larger. A loud ringing tone jolted her from her memories, and she headed out of the room toward the sound. She found her clutch carelessly thrown on the sofa in the living room, and opened it to grab her phone inside. She looked through the text messages and the missed calls, all from Stephanie and Jasmine. She sent Stephanie a quick message, letting her know she was alive. Penelope walked back and looked around the bedroom, spotting a dresser. She quickly opened the first drawer and looked through the neatly folded clothes until she found a large hoodie and sweatpants with a drawstring and threw them on. “I’m stealing your clothes,” she whispered to a sleeping Jack. “There is no way I’m walking out in the dress from last night.” Penelope activated the location settings on her phone, trying to figure out where the hell she was. “Venice Beach, not bad.” After looking through the numbers for a cab, she found one and called. “Yes, could I have a cab here on Sixth and Longfellow, please. Thank you,” she whispered. After grabbing what little she had brought, pulling on a pair of his socks, lifting her hair back into a ponytail, washing off the gunk on her face, and brushing her teeth—with his toothbrush, wasn’t like they didn’t have their tongues down each other’s throats the night before—she spotted his wallet on the floor.
“Well, I gave you my virginity. The least you can do is pay for my cab,” she softly told a sleeping Jack. Penelope grabbed a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet on the floor. There was a pen and a notebook on the corner desk. She ripped out a page and scribbled a small note, leaving it on the bedside table along with his wallet. With one last look at the beautiful, sleeping man, she quietly slipped out of the room, leaving her first lover and all the memories of the night they’d shared together. *** “You scared the shit out of me, stupid. I was calling you all morning thinking the worst that could have happened to you,” Stephanie scolded Penelope, walking through her apartment door. “Where did you go? Huh? Don’t you know how to use a phone and call back or send a stupid text mess—” “Hey, hey. Okay, I get it,” Penelope responded, feeling a little guilty. “Look, I’m fine, I’m alive, and I’m here.” Stephanie only grunted and threw herself on the couch. Penelope sighed good-naturedly and went to sit next to her friend. “Did you have a good night?” Stephanie lifted her arm from her face and gave her the stink eye for a moment, before smirking. “Yeah, I did. Went home with what’s-his-face and we shared phone—” Her eyes widened. “Wait a minute. I should be asking you this.” “What?” Penelope asked innocently.
“Oh stop playing with me, Penny. You went home with a sexy stud. I was drunk but I wasn’t shitfaced.” Penelope’s face turned tomato-red. She didn’t want to explain her sex life to her friend. “Uhh well... I—” A sudden knock at the door made her jump. Who could that be? “Is it him?” Stephanie asked suggestively. “No, it’s not. I don’t think so.” Penelope was unsure, walking toward the door to unlock it. She barely had any time to turn the doorknob before Jasmine barged in. The first thing she did was stare pointedly at Penelope. “Penny, I was so worried. Where did you go? Who were you with? You know it’s not safe to go out alone with a guy you barely know.” “Hey, wait up. Both of you had flings last night, and I’m the one who can’t go home with a guy? Seriously? That is very unfair.” “You’re new meat, Penny. If you’ve never done it before, it’s a risk you’re taking. We just want to watch out for you,” Stephanie replied. “Well, you guys won’t have to worry about it again because last night was the first and last time I’m ever doing that.” There was silence from her friends. Penelope looked from one to the other. “What?” “What’s the story?” Stephanie asked. “What story?” Penelope said innocently. “Stop fooling around, Penny. We can both tell you were fucked very thoroughly last night,” she retorted.
“Yeah, you smell like it, too.” Jasmine wrinkled her nose. Penelope looked at them both, incredulous. “Well, maybe because I haven’t had time to take a shower this morning. I had just been here for five minutes before Steph decided to pay me a visit.” “So you did do it!” they both exclaimed. “Details, details,” Stephanie squealed. Penelope was speechless, the warmth of her blush creeping up her neck. “I went home with the guy and spent the night at his place. End of story.” “Wait, what do you mean, end of story?” Jasmine exclaimed. “I mean that I am not going into any details.” “Well, was he any good?” Stephanie inquired. Penelope hesitated. “If last night was any indication of how sex really is, I would definitely want to do it again,” she confessed, a small smile on her face. There was more squealing. Penelope cringed at the sound. Jasmine responded first. “So, did you get his number or what?” “Yeah, are you meeting him again?” Penelope shook her head. “It was a one-time thing with a great guy who took pity on the virgin—” “Oh, fuck off, Penny. If he sexed you up, that meant he wanted you big-time,” Stephanie angrily explained. “Either way, we won’t ever meet again. It was a great experience and I enjoyed it.” Penelope explained how she’d woken up and left without disturbing a sleeping Jack.
“That’s our girl. No walk of shame,” Jasmine replied. “And hey, you got a memento to remember that night forever,” she continued, pulling on the hoodie Penelope was wearing. “I guess so.” Penelope took a deep breath, taking in the aroma of Jack’s clean clothes. “So, are we going or what?” Stephanie asked, waiting impatiently to leave for their lunch. Penelope nodded and finally had a chance to run away from her friends. She escaped to the bathroom, and took her clothes off piece by piece while remembering the night before. She’d had time to take some aspirin for the headache before the girls had decided to bombard her apartment. Now, standing in front of the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door, she took a good look at herself. She hadn’t fully looked at herself naked in the longest time, but now she felt a little different. The level of selfconsciousness had lowered, and she could look without thinking her large thighs and chubby stomach were disgusting. She looked at three bruises on each hip bone. Penelope traced them and realized they were left over from the way Jack had held on to her last night. “Oh, Jack.” She let herself dwell on the memories of the night before. It all still felt like a dream, but the slight ache between her legs and the marks he had left all over her body proved it was all reality. With a last sigh, she turned to get under the shower, ready to let the warm water wash away the evidence of the night before.
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