"What idiot would say no to that?" she asks, half-laughing, half-gasping when Steve's tongue drags over her cunt, over her clit. If that makes her sound like a slag, she doesn't care. Everyone is always so caught up in what girls do and say, but no one gives a shit about the boys, so Maeve made a conscious decision a long time ago to stop caring about what other people thought of her.

It's helped some. Hurt in other ways. The names still sting, but she's learned how to live with it.

And now it doesn't matter. She buries her hands in Steve's thick hair, holding onto him as she hooks her thigh over his shoulder, her foot smoothing down the length of his back. If he didn't want her, he wouldn't be here.