Tricked Into the Wheelchair Billionaire's Bed

Nora’s POV

Today was not just any night. Not just his birthday. It was going to be the night. The night I finally gave myself to the boy I’d loved since high school. Seven years of holding hands, movie dates, forehead kisses and promises. Seven years of soft-spoken "I’ll wait for you" and me believing every single one.

I stared at my reflection, running my fingers nervously over the neckline of the red satin dress I’d almost put back on the hanger three different times in the store. It hugged my body in all the right places, made me look like I knew what I was doing when in reality, my hands had been shaking since morning.

Behind me, Selene let out a low whistle, arms crossed and leaning against the wall like she was about to start rating me out of ten.

“Damn, Nora,” she grinned, popping her gum. “You sure you’re just giving him cake tonight? Or are we finally popping that cherry?”

I blushed, turning away and pretending to fix my earrings, even though they were fine. “I don’t know…”

“You’ve been dating him for seven years, babe,” she said, coming closer and adjusting my hair slightly. “If he hasn’t already lost it to someone else, which, let’s be real, pfft, no way, then he’s either a saint or he’s got crazy discipline.”

I laughed weakly, but the words caught in my chest. He’d always told me he was waiting for me. That I was worth the wait. That he wanted our first time to be special. Intimate. He’d even said he didn’t want to rush me. Ever.

I held onto that. Like it was a badge of honor. Like I wasn’t just being scared and naïve.

Selene must’ve seen the hesitation in my eyes because she grabbed my wrist and gave it a small squeeze.

“Look, don’t overthink it. Just go with the flow. But if you are planning to let him climb the mountain tonight, here’s what you need to know…”

“Oh my God, shut up,” I laughed, smacking her arm.

She didn’t. She gave me three very detailed, slightly horrifying tips that made me laugh till my stomach hurt and my nerves didn’t feel so sharp anymore.

“One,” she held up a finger like she was giving TED Talk advice. “Don’t just lie there like a log. You gotta move. Give him something to work with. Even if you’re nervous, fake it till you make it, babe.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I literally am nervous.”

She shrugged. “Then fake it harder.”

“Two,” she continued, grinning devilishly, “moan. Loudly. I don’t care if it feels like nothing. Men are stupid. You could be thinking about laundry and if you moan, they’ll think they’re the best you ever had.”

I let out a half-laugh, half-gasp. “Selene!”

She just winked. “I’m telling you, it works.”

“And number three,” she leaned in like she was about to reveal the secret to the universe. “After it’s over, don’t cry. Even if it sucks. Even if it hurts like hell. Just get up, walk to the bathroom like you’ve done it before, and pee. Trust me. It’s the pee that makes you a woman.”

I laughed so hard I had to sit down on the bed, holding my stomach.

“Where do you get this stuff?” I asked between wheezes.

She just flipped her hair like a diva. “Life experience, baby. Life experience.”

With the gifts wrapped in shiny silver paper tucked under my arm, the small cake box resting gently on my lap, and my heart doing the most chaotic tap dance in my chest, we got into the cab.