His tongue slipped into her mouth, pressing hard, sweeping around like some kind of alien probe. Suddenly it didn’t feel good anymore, didn’t feel right. She tried to say, Stop, but her voice had no sound; he was sucking up all her air.

His hands were everywhere: up her back, around her side, plucking at her bra, trying to undo it. She felt it come free with a sickening little pop. And then he was touching her boob.

“No . . .” she whimpered, trying to push his hands away. This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted love, romance, magic. Someone to love her. Not . . . this. “No, Pat, don’t—”

“Come on, Tully. You know you want it.” He pushed her back and she stumbled, fell to the ground hard, hitting her head. For a second, her vision blurred. When it cleared, he was on his knees, between her legs. He held both her hands in one of his, pinning her to the ground.

“That’s what I like,” he said, pushing her legs apart.

Shoving her top up, he stared down at her naked chest. “Oh, yeah . . .” He cupped one breast, tweaked her nipple hard. His other hand slipped into her pants, beneath her underwear.

“Stop. Please . . .” Tully tried desperately to get free, but her wriggling only seemed to excite him.

Between her legs, his fingers probed her hard, moving inside her. “Come on, baby, let yourself like it.”

She felt herself starting to cry. “Don’t—”

“Oh, yeah . . .” He covered her body with his, pressed her into the wet grass.

She was crying so hard now she could taste her own tears, but he didn’t seem to care. His kisses were something else now—slobbering, sucking, biting; it hurt, but not as much as his belt, hitting her stomach when he pulled it off, or his penis, ramming—

She squeezed her eyes shut as pain ripped between her legs, scraped her insides.

Then, suddenly, it was over. He rolled off her, lay beside her, holding her close, kissing her cheek as if what he’d just done to her had been love.

“Hey, you’re crying.” He gently smoothed the hair away from her face. “What’s the matter? I thought you wanted it.”

She didn’t know what to say. Like every girl, she’d imagined losing her virginity, but it had never felt like this in her dreams. She stared at him in disbelief. “Wanted that?”

An irritated frown creased his forehead. “Come on, Tully, let’s dance.”

The way he said it, so quietly, as if he were actually confused by her reaction, only made it worse. She’d done something wrong, obviously, been a prick tease, and this was what happened to girls who played at it.

He stared at her for a minute longer, then stood up and pulled his pants up. “Whatever. I need another drink. Let’s go.”

She rolled onto her side. “Go away.”

She felt him beside her, knew he was staring down at her. “You acted like you wanted it, damn it. You can’t lead a guy on and then just go cold. Grow up, little girl. This is your fault.”