Javier had enjoyed his share of organic virgins. Because he was synthetic, they enjoyed him even more. His failsafe meant that his memory would corrupt and his mind would fry if he went too fast and hurt them too much. So he went slow. He tickled. He teased. He got them wet and wild and wide. He made them want it more than they feared it. They called him attentive, thoughtful, caring. He called it self-preservation. And occasionally, he called it employment.
There was the girl on her way to Brown who’d never had time for a boyfriend what with all her overachieving. She met Javier in Mexico during “spring break,” which seemed to be something her therapist had suggested. Her own suggestion was that she get the whole first time over with, already, so she could put her curiosity to rest and just move on.
“I think it’s better, this way,” she said. “I won’t be one of those girls who can never get over her first time. I won’t obsess over you. And you won’t obsess over me.”
“Not afterward, no,” he’d said. “But I think you’ll find that during the festivities, I can be quite the micro-managing dick.”
“Dick being the operative word.”
And if you’re confused by all that because you haven’t read vN, maybe you should enter this contest over at Goodreads, wherein the lovely people at Angry Robot Books are giving away a copy of the book. Now you have no excuses. Hie you hence, and read.