by Calia Read
His clean scent is mixed with cologne and it’s intoxicating. My lips move down his neck and my hands settle next to his stomach. His body is pinned beneath mine.
Urgently, I kiss across his chest and when I reach the small brown nipple I lick it, keeping my eyes on his face the whole time. He flinches and the tendons in his neck bulge when his head tilts back.
My lips drag down his body. I have no control over my actions, my body is driving me to do everything and I willingly go along. I just want to touch him and show him that I want him. I need him. Macsen has a past that shows everyone he’s ever been close to has, in one way or another, used him. I want to show him that I will never do that. My intent when I first came to Kentucky wasn’t pure, but everything has changed.
I find the zipper on his jeans and unzip them. I toy with the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down. His erection springs free. I glance up at Macsen and find him watching me with hooded eyes. He looks calm and in control, but his chest is moving up and down rapidly, and his hands clutch a fistful of the sheets.
“You don’t have to do that,” Macsen grits out.
Wrapping my hand around him causes a hiss to escape his mouth. My eyes never leave his face, as I move my hand up and down his length. “Do you want me to?”
His eyes close before he blinks rapidly and looks me in the face. “Fuck yes.”
I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know I want to. I ignore my lack of practice and bend my head down and kiss the tip of him. The skin is softer than I thought and it makes me bolder. Tentatively, my tongue snakes out and licks him slowly.
“Holy shit,” Macsen rasps out.
His response encourages me go further. Opening my mouth, I take him in and suck him gently. His hips buck upward each time I become more familiar with him.
I feel his hands rake through my hair, guiding my head up and down. His control is slowly slipping making him tug on my hair. I push him deeper in my mouth and when I hear a groan of pleasure from Macsen, I become aroused. Squirming, I move rhythmically, enjoying everything I’m doing.
Macsen makes a choked sound and grabs my head, pushing me away from him. “God, you have to stop. I’ll come right now.”
It doesn’t seem like such a bad thing. I smile and lick my lips.
“Emilia,” he moans my names and smiles. “You’re too good at that.”
I crawl up his body. “It was my first time doing that.”
He watches me with lust in his eyes. “Take off your clothes.”
Obediently, I sit up and take off my camisole. My shorts and underwear are next and when I move back over him, he’s sitting up breathing heavily.
“It’s my turn to touch.” He touches me with greedy hands, like this is his first time ever really seeing me. It’s my turn to cage him in and when I do, Macsen touches my breast.
He tilts his head up and looks at me. I can’t focus. Not with his hands massaging my breast. Every touch makes them even more sensitive. “Perfect,” he murmurs. His breath is hot against my skin and it makes my body go into overdrive.
I watch as he licks my nipple and guides it into his mouth. He sucks and pulls and I moan. My palms rest on his shoulders, feeling the smoothness of his skin and muscles underneath my hands. I drag my fingernails over his shoulders before they lace behind his head, pulling him tighter to me.
He pulls away seconds later. His hands move to my hips, gripping me tightly. I feel him kiss my neck and I tilt my head, giving him better access. His mouth moves toward my ear and I feel him lick my skin before he whispers possessively, “Now. I need you right now.”
My head bobs up and down anxiously. “Yes,” I agree readily. My hands move back down to his shoulders and with one shove he’s laying on his back, looking at me with anticipation.
I pause for a second and drink him in. This moment stands out to me. The way Macsen stares at me, I know this isn’t just sex. Lust is guiding his actions, but I see trust in his eyes. Trust that he’s given only me.
I know that’s not something he gives freely.
Straddling his waist, I rub my hands against his strong thighs. “How many girls have seen you like this?” I ask breathlessly.
I know the answer already. I just want to hear him say it. It’ll be the greatest confirmation to hear what I think he feels.
Macsen knows what I mean. I can tell by the strained look in his eyes. What I’m doing to him, I know it’s a lot. I think he expected me to leave after I heard everything, but I won’t. I am above him, holding him down. And it’s more than that, I know his past and I see everything in his eyes now.
I’m going nowhere, I tell him with gentle touches.
His eyes briefly shut. I grab a condom from his nightstand and open it quickly. I take my time putting it on him slowly. When he looks up at me, his green eyes are filled with clarity and understanding.
“No one,” Macsen utters in a clipped tone.
My hands rest on his stomach. I dig my fingers deeper into his skin with excitement over his words. “Will there be anyone after me?”
Macsen’s jaw clenches and his hips lift. His expression is tortured. I move my hands to his hips and hold him down. “No,” he grits out. “God, you know that!”
I smile as I rise above him and never taking my eyes from his face, I slowly lower myself, taking him in, inch by inch. His eyes widen briefly before his eyes shut slam. In this position, he feels deeper. I move restlessly because he’s not even all the way in me and I feel myself being stretched, reaching my limit. I hold back a moan because even with that discomfort I still go further, and this time, a whimper escapes my lips. He completely fills me.
Our eyes connect as his hands grip my hips. He guides me up, and I slide against him, sucking in a sharp breath. My breathing increases and sweat makes my body damp, but I can’t stop moving and I can’t pull my eyes away from Macsen.
His whole body is strained as we move. Every time he pushes me up, the muscles in his stomach tighten. Macsen is barely holding himself back and that makes me move faster, makes me squeeze myself tighter around him. He moans harshly and his head pushes back until it hits the headboard.
When I find my rhythm, I move confidently and push my legs further apart. He goes a bit deeper and I hear a sharp hiss from Macsen. His hands grip the sheets and settle on my stomach, drifting higher before he palms my breast. His palm brushes against my nipple and I lose control. My fingers dig into Macsen’s skin as I ride him. I’m right on the brink of climaxing, so close that my toes curl and my blood starts to rush through my veins.
With one deep thrust, Macsen moves in me. I scream out his name loudly.
I have no time to take a breath before Macsen flips me over and with his arms wrapped around me, pushes deep inside me. On instinct, I tilt my hips to meet his thrusts, dragging my hands down his back.
“Emilia!” he shouts out. I feel him lengthen inside me before he shudders and collapses on top of me.
His arms are braced around me, and his chest is pressed against mine. With a sigh, he rests his head in between my breasts. I feel his heart pounding wildly, going at the same pace as mine. My hands move to his hair and I comb my hands through the dark strands over and over because I don’t want to let go. I don’t want tonight to end, and I don’t want to go home.
I want to stay here with Macsen.
3½ years ago
All my bags are packed.
I look around my room and take one last look. “I think I have everything.”
E sits on my bed, toying with a loose thread on her blue pleated skirt. “Are you sure?”
In a few minutes we would leave for the airport, and then I would have to say good-bye to my best friend. It makes my heart drop to my stomach, because as excited as I am to go to England for my senior year abroad, I don’t want to say good-bye to E. It’s like ripping off a limb and expecting my life to remain the same as before.
Sighing loudly, I sit next to her on my bed. She scoots close a
nd leans her head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm securely around her. “A few months, E. That’s all. And then I’ll be home for Thanksgiving.”
She looks up at me and her lips pull down. “Who will I talk to?”
“You have friends. You have lots of them.” I keep my voice optimistic. My mind is racing, trying to figure out if it’s possible to get out of this whole trip.
I need to stay for my sister.
“I have two friends.” She looks up at me with her wide innocent eyes. She’s still my sister but she’s slowly changing. E is pulling away from all the hobbies she normally loved. She looks through my closet, staring at my outfits. I’ve seen our mom teaching her how to curl her hair without burning her hand.
She’s interested in her looks, her appearance. It makes me smile with pride, and it makes my heart tug in fear. I’m afraid for her to grow up and discover what the world is truly made of.
Grabbing her shoulders, I pull her away and look her straight in the eyes. I speak firmly, and I know she’ll listen. “If you ever need something, you go straight to a teacher, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers back.
“She’ll help you with everything.”
I knew that this day would come. I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly.
E nods over my words, and I stand before I start to cry. I grab my luggage. My sister just walks over to my closet. She turns around and gives me the same sweet smile of hers. “I can use your clothes now?”
I hesitate. “Sure. If you want.”
She claps her hands together and smiles widely. I can’t help it. I smile back. “E, why are you so interested in all this?” I point to the clothing hanging up.
Rushing toward me, she clutches my forearm in her small hands. “I like a guy, Emi.”
My brows scrunch slightly. I look at her face and keep my voice neutral. “When did this happen?”
“Only a month ago.”
“Who is he?”
E’s eyes take on a faraway look. “Macsen Sloan.”
I don’t recognize the name, but I want to find this guy. What is his intention with E? My fingers grip my bag tighter. “Where did you meet this Macsen Sloan?”
E opens her mouth and goes to answer me.
“Emilia!” Aniston walks into my room. E closes her mouth when she sees Aniston and turns away shyly. We’re a unit, the three musketeers. But lately, that’s been changing. E wants to do things on her own or talk non-stop about guys. Aniston doesn’t know how to handle that.
None of us really do.
Our brother stops when he sees us. He frowns and quickly points to my balcony doors. “The limo’s here. We’re ready to go.”
E’s face is wiped clean of its happiness. She frowns over at Aniston and then at the carpet.
“What did I interrupt?” Aniston asks.
“Nothing at all.” I grab E’s hand and look back at Aniston. “Can you help me with my bags?”
He walks in front of us with my luggage and I whisper into E’s ear quickly, “I’ll e-mail you when I get there, okay? We need to talk more about this. Does Mom even know about this guy?”
“No.” Her grin is goofy. And I know that grin. That’s a grin you only get when you’re thinking about a guy. “I’ve only told you.”
None of this sits right with me. I make one last attempt to talk some reason into her. “Think about this E.” I stop at the doorway and practically plead with her. “There are so many guys out there and you’re just now discovering that, but wait.” I smile softly at her. “They’re going nowhere.”
She nods her head, but I don’t think she is really listening. Our mom breezes into the room. She smiles sadly when she sees me and gives me a tight hug.
“Are you leaving already?” she asks.
I nod my head, feeling my heart in my throat. “Yeah. I think I’m already going to be late.”
Looking over my shoulder, I see Aniston raise his hand in the air and point to his watch.
“You should probably go then, sweetie.” Her eyes get teary and she hugs me one last time. “Call me the minute you get there.”
“I will,” I tell her.
When I glance at E, I can’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes. She hugs me tightly. She’s starting to catch up to me in height, but she still rests her head on my shoulder like she always does and it makes me feel hopeful that nothing will change. That when I come home for break during the summer she will be the same.
I’m selfish and I know that. But my selfishness stems from love. I’d do anything for siblings and E deserves the best. Of everything.
Pulling away, I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. When I smile, it’s shaky. “Okay. I have to go now. I love you, E.”
“I love you, Emi.”
I turn away and walk down the brick stairs and down the sidewalk. Aniston stands by the limo door and my dad is inside the car, patiently waiting.
Without even thinking, I turn back to the house. It’s first instinct to make sure that she is okay. I see her peek her head out the door, looking so young and grown at the same time. I give her a brave wave and get into the limo with my dad and Aniston.
When we pull out into traffic, I lean my head back and fight tears. Aniston pats my shoulder. “I’ll take care of her,” he promises.
I trust him. He’s my brother. Aniston loves E with everything he has and I know that he’ll look out for her.
I have nothing to worry about.
I wake up with a jolt. My heart is thundering wildly.
Pressing a hand against my chest and feeling how damp my skin is, I squeeze my eyes shut and take small breaths.
When my heart slows, I finally open my eyes. I know I’m in Macsen’s room. I can hear him breathing next to me.
My head shifts on the pillow and I stare at his naked back, as it slowly moves up and down. I want him to wake up and comfort me, and at the same time, I want him asleep, unaware of what I’m feeling.
E and I used to play a lot of games growing up. My favorite was to write words on each other’s arms with just one finger. It was the perfect thing to do when we were supposed to be quiet, and the perfect way to write a message without saying the words out loud.
Reaching out, I touch Macsen back with my index finger. My arms are practically shaking and after a few seconds, I slowly trace the words: forgive me.
It’s for everything and to everyone: my sister, my family, my heart, and to Macsen.
I think I’ve failed everyone.
A small tear falls onto his pillow and I wait for him to tense and turn around to face me, but a minute passes and there’s nothing.
One more time, I touch his skin and write three words on his back. Words that I’ve only told my family.
His shoulder tenses and my breath is stuck in my throat. Nothing else happens after that and I exhale slowly. My fingers wrap around his hip and drift up higher to rest on his stomach. Resting my forehead on his back, I take a few deep breaths until I feel peaceful and calm. But I don’t sleep. I keep jerking myself awake because I don’t want my dreams to take over. I’m safe right here. With Macsen.
Finally, my eyes start to feel heavy and right before I’m on the brink of sleep, Macsen touches my hand, places it over his chest, and covers my hand with his own.
I fall asleep seconds later.
My last thought is that I hope he felt my words.
When my plane lands, I take a deep shuddering breath.
I’m ready to get off and see Aniston and Eden. But I don’t feel like I belong here anymore. The whole plane ride over, I went over everything my mom had taught me: how to smile at the right time, what to say, when to laugh. It’s only been a few months since I’ve left, but I feel new to everything and that makes my nerves even more frayed than ever.
The unbuckle seat belt light turns on above me. I smooth out my baggy, green sweater and let out a deep sigh.
Grabbing my carry-on from the compartment above me, I walk down the a
isle. A flight attendant is at the front of plane. She smiles at me kindly. “Welcome to New York,” she says sweetly.
I feel anything but welcome. Being here makes me feel itchy and restless. My hands are sweaty and my heart won’t stop pounding.
I would’ve chanted Wyoming, Wyoming, Wyoming in my head over and over until my heart beat slowed, but I find myself repeating another name.
Macsen, Macsen, Macsen.
My steps echo in the jet bridge as I walk down the pathway and into the airport. People are scattered everywhere. Some people have phones glued to their ears as they wait for their flight; a few are parents trying to wrangle their kids to sit still. And some are mysterious. They sit by themselves, saying nothing. I know that I’m that kind of traveler.
I go in the direction of baggage claim and hear my name being called.
“Emilia!”
I turn around and see Eden jogging over to me. She practically tackles me in a hug and before I can even wrap my hand around her, she pushes me away and smiles widely and hugs me again.
She has a vibrant smile on her face. It’s impossible for Eden to mask her enthusiasm. Her wide grin causes me to drop my bags. I hug her tightly and return her smile.
My actions shock her, but she doesn’t comment on it. “I’m so glad you’re home!” Eden says happily.
“Me too,” I lie.
Aniston steps forward and gives my shoulder a pat. When Eden steps back, he gives me a strong hug. “It’s good to see you,” he comments gruffly.
Nothing has really changed with Aniston. His light brown hair still looks like it’s in desperate need of a haircut. He has the strong Wentworth features that set us apart from everyone else we know, but marks us like a brand. When one of us is out alone, it’s guaranteed that the phrase, ‘Oh, you must be a Wentworth!’ will be spoken.
The only thing that sets Aniston apart from Eden and me is that we know how to act. We know how to feign interest. Aniston never tries to make nice. He frowns at anything within a four-mile radius. Even in this moment, his brown eyes flit over everyone, like they cannot be trusted.
