Chapter 5

EMMA POV

The room was dimly lit, the faint hum of the neon sign outside casting a soft,flickering glow through the half-drawn window. His heartbeat echoed in my ears, so loud I could barely hear the low rumble of his voice.

"You're a virgin?" Robert’s question hung in the air, as if suspended by the weight of his disbelief.

I nodded, unable to trust my voice. My throat felt dry, and my hands trembled slightly, though I quickly folded them in my lap, hoping he wouldn’t notice. His face, which had been calm, even smug moments earlier, was now an unreadable mask of shock and concern. He shifted his weight off me, sitting up abruptly as though the words had physically knocked him back.

He repeated, softer this time, almost as if asking for more confirmation, guess he didn't believe the truth "A virgin?"

His eyes searched mine, as though he were looking for some sign that I was joking, or playing some pranks, lying. But I wasn’t. It was actually the truth. I had never been with anyone, not in the way he had imagined. And I hadn’t intended for him to find out, at least not like this. But now that it was out there, the awkward silence between us stretched on, too long, too heavy.

I sighed, breaking the quiet. "Should that be a problem? You have been asking me and I kept saying yes,yes and you still don't believe me?" My voice was calm, more composed than I felt inside. I could see the gears turning in his head, the disbelief still etched in every corner of his expression.

For a long moment, he said nothing. His chest rose and fell in deep, deliberate breaths. I could sense he was processing, trying to reconcile the girl who had walked into his world tonight at the club as a stripper, with the word "virgin" now spinning in his mind.

I pressed on, unable to bear the silence any longer. "It shouldn’t matter, right? I mean, virgin or not, does it really change anything?" My voice wavered slightly, though I tried to stay firm, to keep the growing vulnerability at bay. "Yes, I’m a virgin. And yes, I came here tonight, to this club, on my own. No one forced me. I followed you here, into this room, because I wanted to." I paused, making sure the weight of my words landed. "So don’t feel guilty about it, and let’s just continue."

I reached out, pulling him back toward me. His body was stiff, reluctant even, though I could tell it wasn’t from lack of desire. It was something else,something deeper, more complicated.

Robert sat back again, his face dark with concern, maybe guilt. He couldn’t hide it, even if he wanted to. He ran a hand through his hair, then across his face, as if trying to rub away the confusion. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally said, "Emma, this isn’t right…"

I cut him off. "I know what I’m doing okay…." I stood up, my feet hitting the cold floor with a soft thud. In one quick motion, I began undressing, peeling away my clothes, layer by layer, until I was standing there, fully exposed in front of him. Vulnerable. Yet somehow, I felt powerful in that moment.

"This is what I want for myself, sooner or later I am going to give it to another man but I would rather give it up here than anywhere else." My voice was steadier now, more certain. I was doing this for my mom, for her medical bills, for everything that weighed on me. Robert didn’t need to know all the reasons. He didn’t need to understand the weight on my shoulders. He just needed to do what we both came here for.

His eyes raked over me, but this time, there was no lust in them. Instead, I saw hesitation, confusion, and a flicker of something else I couldn’t quite place. His breath was shallow, his chest rising and falling faster now. He stepped forward, almost uncertainly, as if he were crossing some forbidden line.

"You’re sure?" he asked, his voice low, gravelly, as though he were fighting something within himself. His hand hovered near my cheek but didn’t touch me, not yet.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice soft but unwavering. "I'm sure."

For a moment, he hesitated, then slowly closed the gap between us. His lips found mine, gentle at first, testing the waters. There was a different kind of passion in his kiss now—less hurried, more deliberate. His hands brushed against my skin, sending a shiver up my spine, and then we were falling back onto the bed together.

His touch was slow, almost reverent. I could feel the conflict in him,his body wanting, his mind resisting. But I didn’t need his pity. I didn’t need him to overthink this. I needed him to see that I was choosing this. That I was in control of this moment, despite everything.

"Emma," he whispered my name against my lips, his breath warm and ragged. "This isn’t how it’s supposed to be."

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. "It’s how I want it to be," I replied firmly. "Stop overthinking. Just… do it."

He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping my hips, his body finally relenting to the moment. But something had changed. The tension in the room was thick, not the kind of anticipation that comes before intimacy.

And then, just as his lips were about to meet mine again, he froze. His hand on my waist tensed, and he pulled away slightly, his gaze drifting to the side, lost in thought.

"I can’t," he muttered, sitting up fully now. "Emma, I… I can’t do this. Not like this."

My heart dropped. A wave of frustration and embarrassment crashed over me. "Why?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. "You don’t want me?"

"It’s not that," he said quickly, running his hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated with himself. "it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t want to be the guy who takes this from you. Not like this."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I sat up too, pulling the sheets around me, suddenly feeling exposed in a way I hadn’t before. "Takes it from me? I’m offering it to you, Robert. I chose this. I came here tonight knowing what I wanted, knowing what I needed. You’re not taking anything."

He shook his head, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "You’re not thinking straight, Emma. You’re doing this for the wrong reasons."

"Don’t tell me what my reasons are," I snapped, anger rising in my chest. "You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through, what I need to do. So don’t sit there and act like you’re some hero for stopping this."

Robert sighed heavily, clearly torn. "I’m not trying to be a hero. I just… I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow. I don’t want to be a mistake in your life, you are still young."

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. This wasn’t how I’d imagined this night going. 

"Maybe I will regret it," I said quietly, my voice softening. "Maybe I won’t. But that’s my choice to make. And not yours."

For a long moment, neither of us said anything. The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension and unsaid things. Finally, Robert reached out and gently took my hand, his thumb brushing softly over my knuckles.

"I’m sorry, Emma," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t do this."

I pulled my hand away, the sting of rejection “If you can't do it another man will and he will pay me” I said and was about to change into my cloth when he pulled me back and pushed me on the bed, I collapsed on the bed, my breast shaking.

“You will have to endure because its going to hurt and you are going to bleed” Robert said.