Ayla's first

Anger surged through me. I moved over her, bracing myself beside her shoulders. Her hands came up as if to ward me off, soft palms pressing against my chest. Her eyes widened, and she darted them to my pecs, her fingers shaking against me.

“Listen up. You’re right, you’ll be the one who’ll experience discomfort, but I can guarantee you that being bratty about it doesn’t help. If you work with me, it’ll be better.”

“It’s not just the pain. Until this moment, men were allowed to kiss my hand or dance with me at social gatherings, nothing more. And now you’re here, over me, half naked, and I’m half naked, and soon we’ll both be naked, and you’re going to…” She sucked in a deep breath.

“I know,” I said quietly. “Don’t start to cry.”

She drew her lower lip between her teeth. After a moment, she said firmly. “I won’t cry.” Then she peered up at me. “Why do you care? You’ve seen worse than someone crying.”

I had. Far worse, and I hadn’t given a shit. But Ayla was young, too young, and my wi