I just stood there, staring at her.
Why her?
I hadn’t been with anyone else; not in a long time. I was stuck on this girl I wasn’t supposed to be with. I had a head full of excuses, reasons to push her away, because I knew it was supposed to be wrong, this thing between her and me.
But I wanted her.
No. I loved her.
I was in love with her. Had to be. That was the only explanation for all this shit I was feeling.
All this stuff being around her just made me feel.
About everything around.
It was like things I’d been afraid to feel for so fucking long were suddenly safe to let out of the dark.
Like she’d painted my world with color when I didn’t even realize it was black-and-white.
“You know what?” She was studying me, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sick of not being wanted.”
I blinked at her, startled. “What?”
“My parents didn’t want me. Maybe they did at first, but from the time I was thirteen, for sure I was unwanted.”
“That’s not true, Courteney.”
“Oh, yes it is. They love me. I know that. But I was in the way of their lifestyle, their early retirement. And Cary loves me to death, I know that too, but he didn’t want me around, either. Sitting there in his house, making him feel guilty, reminding him there was an outside world. So he paid for my school. They all told me it was what was best for me, this shiny education, the best school around, all that crap. But the truth was none of them wanted me. At least, not enough to have me around.”
“Courteney, that’s not—”
“No. This isn’t self-pity. It’s reality. I know what it feels like to not be wanted, Xander.”
“So do I.”
She went silent. That seemed to surprise her. “Uh… what do you mean?”
“I mean, if I was your age right now, you wouldn’t even look at me twice.”
“What?”
“Have you seen pictures of me when I was a teenager?”
“I don’t think so…”
“Trust me, you’d remember if you did. I didn’t look like I do now. And I know what it is to feel overlooked.”
“Well… just because you didn’t look like you do now, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have—”
“My nose was too big. My arms were too long. I was skinny and awkward. I had braces. You wouldn’t even recognize me, and you definitely never would’ve begged me to fuck you.”
She stared at me, sighed and said, “You’re the same person, though, Xander. You think I’m that shallow? That I couldn’t see who you were?”
“I think I was that much of a geek. And plenty of girls half as pretty as you laughed in my face when I tried to talk to them. I know how it feels to be unwanted. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Then… you know how much it sucks,” she said. She took a few steps toward me. “And I don’t want it anymore. If you want me, then good. If you don’t… I can’t chase you forever, Xan.”
“I know you can’t. I wouldn’t want you to.”
She nodded a little, like she was committing to something in her head. Shoring up her courage, maybe. “So… My friends told me to stop trying to seduce you. And… I think I’m gonna stop.”
“You should.”
She just stared at me. Her mouth opened a bit.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “Sorry. I meant… I don’t want you to have to chase me. You shouldn’t have to.”
She sighed. “You’re terrible at this, you know?”
I shifted uncomfortably and scratched my beard. Shit, I needed to shave. “I know.”
“You feel guilty,” she said gently. “That you’ll hurt him.”
“Yeah. I do.”
“But this isn’t about him.”
She held my gaze, steady, and I knew she was right.
“Yeah.”
She looked me over, slowly, and frowned. Then she took me by the hand. “Come here, you.”
She led me into the bathroom and turned on the shower.
“What’re you doing?” I said, just standing there stupidly as she started pulling up my T-shirt. I lifted my arms and she stripped it off over my head. Then she went at my sweatpants. “No offense,” she said, as she worked my pants down to my ankles. “But you need a shower.”
I stepped out of my pants as she went to check the shower temperature. Then I slipped off my underwear and moved in behind her. I pressed in close and buried my face in her neck, smelling her soft smell and kissing her. My hands closed on her waist.
Then I steered her straight into the shower, pushing her in ahead of me.
She squealed as the water hit her. It was warm, but she was also fully dressed, and quickly soaked as she spun in my arms. I blocked her escape. I wrapped myself around her and held her under the spray, burying my face in her neck.
“Uh, Xan… I’m all wet.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I didn’t bring any other clothes.”
“Good.”
She sighed and her arms went around me. I pressed into her body, pushing her up against the wall. My mouth found hers and we started kissing, groping. Her hands went to my dick, and mine were up her shirt, squeezing her tits through her wet bra.
I peeled her wet T-shirt up over her head and dropped it on the floor. She started slowly jacking me off… and I’d never felt anything as good as her hands on me.
Well… her pussy.
I started working on her jeans as we kissed, but trying to get tight, soaked denim down over those sexy hips was tough. They were plastered to her.
“This was… poorly… thought-out,” I told her between kisses, and she giggled.
I had her jeans peeled down just enough to work my hand inside and start rubbing her clit. She gasped as my fingers slid deeper and started stroking her in big, sloppy circles. She was all slippery and warm, and she groaned into my mouth.
Then she spun around, turning her back to me, wiggling her jeans down over her ass. They got stuck on her thighs, and she thrust her ass toward me, bracing herself on the wall. “Do it,” she said.
So I shoved into her.
“I’ll pull out,” I told her, kissing her neck. I wanted to assure her she could trust me. But she was already moving her hips, fucking me.
I held her carefully, so she wouldn’t slip, and I fucked her hard and fast. I slipped myself a couple times, but we managed to keep going. I tried to get the angle just right, and I knew I had it when she started quivering, her breaths coming in short, hard bursts and moans.
“Xander… yeah…” she gasped, as I reached around and started rubbing her clit. “I’m gonna…”
And then she came. Her pussy squeezed me tight and her back arched, and she cried out my name.
It was the best fucking thing I’d ever had.
This. Her.
I was not fucking letting this go.
I tried to make it last for her as I fucked her, but then I had to pull out. I exploded on her ass, stroking myself off as I came. I tried to watch myself coming on her, because Christ that was hot, but then I had to shut my eyes for a sec. Could’ve collapsed, easily. But I stayed on my feet, just barely.
“Oh my God, I need to lie down,” she panted.
“Christ, I think I just blacked out.”
She giggled. “You would’ve fallen over.”
“Almost did.”
I rinsed off her back with the shower. Then I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and held her as my heart beat against her. “There’s no one else,” I told her, wanting to reassure her, holding her close. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
I squeezed her tight and kissed her neck.
“Fuck,” she complained. “How am I gonna get these jeans off?”
We looked at each other, and I chuckled at the utter fucking dismay on her face.
“Xan, wet clothes fe
el gross.”
“You didn’t mind a minute ago.”
“That’s when we were doing the sexy things. Help me.”
“Is this like a weakness of yours?” I knelt down in front of her and worked her jeans down. “Because you’re pouting pretty hard.”
“It’s a pet peeve, like nails on a chalk board. You’re lucky I don’t have socks on. You want to see pouting? Wet socks are the worst.”
I got the jeans all bunched down around her calves while she squirmed—and then they really got stuck.
In the end, I had to lay her down on a towel on the bathroom floor, legs in the air, and pull them off.
She just about died laughing.
Then I carried her to bed.
* * *
We lay sprawled on my bed together, naked, just cooling off from the shower and the sex. I was on my stomach, and Courteney was on her back, staring at the ceiling. My ceiling fan looped overhead, and the room was pretty dark.
I had no idea what time it was.
After a few minutes, she murmured, “Alexander Roscoe…” It was my real name, the one I was born with. She knew it; most of my friends did, but no one ever called me that anymore. “Hmm. Were you really a geek?”
“Unfortunately.”
“But you’re so handsome.”
“Trust me. No amount of handsome can combat that level of awkward.”
She looked over at me. “I want to see pictures.”
“No.”
She rolled into me and wrapped herself around me. “Why not?”
“Not happening.”
“Pleeease? What if I ask real nice and give you a butt rub?” She ran her hand over my ass and started gently kneading my butt cheek.
I groaned, and grumbled, “Fine.”
“Really?” She stopped rubbing. “I get to see pictures of geeky little Xan?”
“Not if you stop rubbing my butt.”
She giggled and resumed massaging. “Can I see them now…?”
“Later.”
“Promise, though?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
She ran her hand up my back and into my hair. “Okay. I’m gonna pause the butt rub to say something serious now.”
“Mmm,” I murmured noncommittally.
“I love you,” she said, softly, and kissed my shoulder.
I didn’t move. I didn’t say anything.
But I knew that wasn’t cool.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to say anything. I just had to get my shit together before I dared open my mouth… or look at her.
I took a breath, and then I turned my head a bit to look into her eyes. “Do you?”
“Yes,” she said.
I said nothing.
“I mean it. And I’m not taking it back, either.”
“Good,” I managed.
Then I rolled my face right into the pillow, because tears were stinging in my eyes and I wasn’t ready for her to see that.
“Xander?”
She ran her hand through my hair, but I didn’t lift my head.
“Oh my God… baby… Did you just get the feels?”
“No,” I lied.
Pretty sure she knew it was a lie, because I could pretty much feel her smiling. She leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “You’re not gonna run on me now, are you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She snuggled in against me and put her head down. Eventually, I turned my head toward her again. My face was next to hers on the pillow, but I kept my eyes closed.
I could feel her breathing in the dark, and I knew she was wide awake.
“My brother hides in his cave because everyone lets him,” she said, quietly. “Don’t do that to him. Or to me. If you want me, fight for me.”
I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was watching me, intently.
“Do you want me?” she asked me, softly.
“Yes.”
“Then fight for me,” she said. “Show him there’s still something in this world worth fighting for.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Xander
The next morning, when I showed up at Cary’s place, I could only assume he was in the studio. The house was silent, the double doors into the studio shut and locked.
I’d called him before I headed over, but he didn’t answer. I’d also sent him a text to tell him I needed to talk to him.
I checked my phone. It had been about forty minutes since I sent that text, and he hadn’t replied.
So I went to the kitchen, to the little jar in the cupboard above the fridge, and took out the key.
I unlocked the studio and walked right in. The double doors opened into the dark, silent hallway and I shut them behind me.
“Cary.” I called out his name as I walked slowly up the hall. I could already see the door on the right, just ahead, was ajar. There was a faint light on inside.
The control room.
“Cary. I’m coming in.”
I nudged the door open.
Cary sat in a chair, hunched over the control board. He looked up at me as I walked in, and he didn’t smile. He had headphones on, but slipped them off.
“Hey,” I said.
He said nothing.
“I tried to reach you. To tell you I was coming over. I need to talk to you. About Courteney.”
He turned slowly to face me in his swivel chair, then sat back, looking at me. He didn’t look happy to see me, and he didn’t say anything.
“I wanted to tell you myself…” I started. The words were fucking pathetic, and I knew they weren’t enough. That nothing I could really say would be enough to make up for what I’d done.
I’d trampled over a serious line in the bro code—that shit that was encoded in every guy’s DNA and you just knew you shouldn’t fuck with.
I’d fucked with it, and we both knew it.
He should’ve probably just stood up and punched me in the face a few dozen times, and maybe we could call it even.
But that would be too easy. And even I didn’t think I deserved that—getting the beat down, or getting let off the hook.
“I… uh… should’ve told you sooner…” I rubbed my beard. I still hadn’t trimmed it or shaved. Damn, I was a mess.
I wasn’t even sure what I wanted him to do or say here.
I just knew what I had to say.
Stop being a pussy and just say it.
“Courteney and I are… together. We’re seeing each other.”
“You fucked her.”
It wasn’t a question, or an accusation. Just a plain statement of fact. An I-know-what-you-did-because-I-saw-it-with-my-own-eyes-and-now-I-can’t-unsee-it statement.
“Come on, man. You don’t have to say it like that. We’ve decided we want to be together. She’s my girlfriend now.”
Well. That came out too easily.
Not like she’d said she was my girlfriend, but I was pretty sure if she was here, she wouldn’t have a problem with that statement.
I was the one who’d been fighting what we were to each other all along. Trying to deny all the shit that was between us. Trying to pretend I wasn’t attracted to her. Trying to pretend it could just be about sex.
Trying to pretend I wasn’t falling for her.
Courteney was way ahead of me on all of that.
Cary just stared at me. He wasn’t making this easy, and he definitely wasn’t thrilled. But what the fuck else did I expect?
Couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen the guy genuinely smile about anything.
“I know this isn’t what you, uh, wanted,” I said, searching for the right words. Were there any right words? “I know you probably think she can do better. That I’m too old for her. Too… experienced. Too fucking jaded, maybe.”
He just stared at me, his jaw working a little.
“I know she’s still like a kid to you. But she’s not—”
“She’s eighteen.” He turned away, swiveling his chair to f
ace the control panel again. Trying to shut me out, like he always did.
Fucking inevitable.
This time, though, I wasn’t backing off so easily.
“So she’s not old enough to make her own choices? If someone told you who you could date when you were eighteen, what would you have said?”
“It’s different. I’m not her.”
“What, because she’s female? That makes it different?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“You can’t tell me not to see her.”
He turned back to me, looked me in the eye. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I did.”
“Yeah. I heard you. And like I said, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner.”
He shook his head a little. “You just couldn’t leave her alone,” he said flatly. “Even when I told you to.”
“Maybe you had no right to say that shit in the first place,” I said. Then I shut my mouth. Irritation broiled in my gut. Frustration. But I tamped it all down.
As usual.
He could see it, maybe.
The index finger on his left hand, on the arm of his chair, started tapping. Then they all started tapping… like he was tapping out some crazy-fast rhythm in his head that only he could hear. Cary played piano, he played guitar. It was one of his tells, when he was upset; that fucking finger tapping.
Christ, I hadn’t seen him do that in a long time.
Was there a song in his head right now? Was he tuning me out?
Was he resisting the urge to knock my head in?
I kinda wished he would hit me. Or start yelling at me. For once, just fucking say whatever it was he was thinking.
But he just stared at me.
“Look,” I said, trying another approach. Maybe if I tried to come at this with more sympathy… “I know things have been hard since Gabe—”
And just like that, I’d lost him. He got up and walked right out of the room.
I followed him up the hall.
“Cary. Come on. Hear me out on this.” He walked right out the studio door, and I followed. “I get that it’s been hard. It’s been hard for all of us. But you don’t have to do this anymore.” I followed him out into the foyer. “It wasn’t your fault, okay?” I followed him right up the stairs, taking them two-by-two, just like he did. “It was a fucking crazy fan…”
Filthy Beautiful: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players #2) Page 36
