He wants to know everything about me, but he avoids talking about himself.
“Let’s go home,” he says, signaling to the waiter who brings the check almost immediately.
After signing the check, he looks at me thoughtfully. “After you, Abbs,” he hisses.
The nickname doesn’t make any sense with that broody face. I want to tell him that I can finish my evening whenever I want and grab an Uber once I’m done eating and drinking. I love him, but I don’t need him ordering me around or trying to define who I am.
He looks impatient and annoyed. “We have to go. This place isn’t fit for the conversation we’re having, Abigail.”
My irritation disappears and my heart pounds loudly and fast. What is it that we’re going to discuss exactly? Our relationship and how it needs adjusting, or his past?
We drive in silence, listening to instrumental jazz. In less than twenty minutes we’re back at the house. He turns off the engine and exhales harshly. We make our way to the house and without a word, he leads me toward the terrace. I lean against the railing while he walks around the perimeter like a trapped lion.
“I don’t remember much. It happened over twenty-four years ago,” he starts, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Hey, I’m with you,” I say, walking to him and interlocking my fingers with his.
I kiss his arm.
“I lived in a whorehouse.” My lungs constrict when he says that word.
“I’m not sure if my mother lived there or if she abandoned me.” He sinks into one of the lounge chairs.
“There were other kids beside me. We were everyone’s kids and no one’s responsibility. Men and women came and went through the house. We saw things that we shouldn’t have seen. They didn’t care if we were around or not. It was … bad.”
“Did anything ever happen to you?” I dare to ask, horrified of what could’ve happened to a little boy in a place like that.
He shakes his head. “I was neglected.”
“No one reported them?”
He sets his forearms on top of his thighs and stares at the horizon. “Not until one of the women died. The police came to the house, and when they left, they took us with them. After that I met Linda. I was her first foster child, and well… you know the rest.”
Wes fidgets with his fingers and remains quiet for a long time. I squat next to him and tap his arm the same way he does when I’m anxious. He looks at me and smiles.
“I had no idea what to expect from Linda and Will—or how to behave. It took years to get over the anxiety of not knowing whether the Aherns were going to kick me out or not. I couldn’t trust them, yet I wanted Linda to be near me, always. I lived in a place where there wasn’t any structure, so having some was too hard to handle at first, but I wanted to please them. I never knew who my parents were. Maybe I even lived with them, but they didn’t give a shit about me.”
He puffs some air and looks up to the ceiling. “Did they abandon me? I don’t even know. My biological mother could’ve died just like the other woman.”
Wes shivers. I stand up and rub his arms. It’s breezy but not cold. I kiss the top of his head, assuring him that he’s not alone.
“It’s a time that I don’t want to remember. It’s been a while, but the memories still hurt. I should be grateful for my parents, yet I’m stuck wondering who my real parents were. My name before I became Weston William Ahern was: Hey kid. I hate to revisit those days because honestly, there’s not much good that I can remember. Only the anxiety, desperation, and fear that I carried around for a long time. But you’re right. I need to share everything with you. The same way I’m asking you to open yourself to me and trust me with your pain.”
I gasp, my breathing becomes shallow. He’s asking for the impossible. I wouldn’t want him to learn about those dark days.
“Please,” he says softly.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking for. They’re ugly. I can’t just give them to you. What if it makes you hate me?”
“Nothing you do will make me hate you.” The conviction in his words gives me a little hope.
“You might not love the fallout from the ugliness of those months,” I insist. I’m ashamed of everything that I let happen and the guilt I carry with me.
He caresses my face with the back of his hand, kissing my temple.
“Mom once said that the broken part is where the healing begins. Your broken soul fills mine where it feels empty.”
The words are beautiful. I touch the pendant he gave me yesterday, remembering the promise that he’ll always be with me.
“You’re going to have to trust someone, and I hope you trust me.”
Fear cripples me. How much could I tell him without lying? It won’t be easy to open up to him. I should do it soon though. I’d rather tell him when I’m wide awake and not in the middle of a nightmare. What if I’m being followed and the truth comes out? He has to learn about my darkest secrets from me, not anyone else. Wes will be the first person to know my side of the story, what really happened to Ava. To me.
“Would you give me a little more time?”
“Fair enough. Just do it soon. Holding it in is destroying you.”
He has no idea. Every memory feels like a knife stabbing me over and over again while they play inside my head. Corbin and Shaun own me.
“I wish I could snuff out the power they have over me,” I confess, closing my eyes. “They took everything, and they’re still doing it.”
I feel like I’m bleeding as I recall their laughs after they hurt me.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” I say regretting what I’ve already shared. “I’m fine.”
Those men shouldn’t have any power over me. I’d take it back if only I knew how to do it. Could Wes help me?
“Stop trying to hide yourself from me.” He touches the necklace. “I feel your pain, Abby—it hurts so much to witness it that it feels like my own. Each time your heart screams in fear, I can hear it—even when you’re silent.”
31
Wes
Abby climbs upon me, straddling me. A bold move that turns me on, but worries me too. What is she up to?
“What’s on your mind, gorgeous?”
“You.” She puts her arms around my neck. Her lips claim mine this time around. She kisses me furiously, as if she’s begging me to make her forget. I pull her roughly, almost violently to me. My heart jolts and my pulse pounds. It’s so easy to get lost in the intensity of her kiss. It’s like a storm. A swirling tornado claiming whatever’s in her way.
Our mouths burn with fire. She tastes of strawberries, chocolate, and wine, raw passion, and desperation. I surrender to her, to this kiss, letting her take whatever it is that might bring her peace. I shake with need as my blood roars in my veins. I’m turned on and ready to let myself loose.
“What do you need,” I ask trying to peel her off me before I do something stupid.
“You,” she says breathily. “I want to share everything with you. I want you to take away my pain without feeling it yourself.”
“I don’t mind feeling it as long as it means you’re free from it.”
“You’re going to hate me as much as I hate myself.”
“Never,” I assure her. “There’s no fucking way I’d ever hate you.”
“Touch me,” she pleads. “I want to try.”
“Abigail,” I warn her, while at the same time I’m fucking chiding myself for not doing what she wants.
I breathe out hard as I close my eyes. She’s making it impossible. I can’t think of anything but the heat of her body burning through my pants.
“We are taking things slowly,” I remind her. “I’m a patient man,” I stutter wanting to touch her panties and find out if she’s wet and ready for me. “We can take it one day at a time. There’s no rush.”
“It’s not rushing things,” she sucks on her bottom lip. “It’s taking back my life.”<
br />
I’m not understanding what she means. What is she trying to claim?
“You might be the key, Wes.” Her breathy voice makes me shiver.
Fuck. I’m so confused about what to do. I’ve yearned to have her in my arms like this. I run my fingers through her hair. Is it right though?
“If this is what you need, baby.” I swallow hard hoping that it doesn’t send her spiraling out of control.
Our gazes connect, she smiles and says, “Why are you so good to me?”
Because I love you. I think the words, but I’m not brave enough to say them. She deserves to know them, but before I can say them out loud, she has to get used to us as a couple.
As she moves her body against mine, my dick begins to harden. I can’t help it when she’s in my lap and especially after that incredible kiss.
I sigh, regretting already what I’m about to say, “As much as I enjoy having you this close, may I remind you that we are taking this slowly.”
She doesn’t move or speak. I place a few strands of hair behind her ear.
She’s so beautiful. Her lips are inviting and as much as I’d love to kiss her right now, I can’t. My cock grows impatient, swelling inside my trousers and aching to finally be deep inside her. Fuck. I need to take a shower and rid myself of this need.
Abby rubs her sweet pussy against my erection, her mouth touching my ear, then my neck. “Please,” she begs me with a sultry voice.
Fuck, she’s slowly breaking my restraints. Wearing me down.
“Baby,” I whisper in her ear, ordering my dick to stay down. “I only have one setting, and if you continue like this we’re going to end up in bed,” I say truthfully.
“Just a little taste.” She throws a flirty smile and suddenly everything around us seems lighter.
“You’re tempting me just like Eve did to Adam,” I joke, then sober up because she had a lot to drink. “Is this the wine talking, Abby?”
“I swear I’m not even tipsy,” she salutes me. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Scout, gorgeous.”
I caress her jaw and trace her full lips with my thumb.
“What is it that you’re afraid of telling me, Abby?”
“The truth.” She runs her small hands through my hair. “I’m afraid of my past and scared that I don’t have a future.”
“This doesn’t scare you?” I slide my hand down her torso, brushing her full breasts.
She shivers and her cheeks darken slightly.
“We can try more tomorrow,” I suggest, getting ready to jet off this terrace.
She closes her eyes. “No one has ever touched me lovingly; tonight, I wanted that.”
“Hey, look at me.” I cup her beautiful face stopping myself from grinding my cock against her pussy.
I stare into those dark eyes wishing that I could read her mind. Her request to touch her, go a little farther, feels like an open invitation and not to her body, but to her soul.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, hoping she’ll say no.
A reasonable man would just leave, but I can’t say no to this woman.
“Yes, I want you to erase what happened before I met you. Give me …” She shakes her head.
“I’ll give you everything, anything. Ask and you shall receive.”
“I want firsts that are meaningful,” she says, and the words are simple, yet I feel like there’s a dark meaning behind them. “A first kiss, a first touch. Love making. But not just with anyone.”
My heart beats fast as I slant my mouth to hers and kiss her. I take my time teasing, tasting, and claiming her slowly with my mouth. Her tongue meets mine, matching stroke for stroke. I lower my hands to her neck, running my fingers along the soft skin of her throat and stopping right where I find the necklace I gave her.
Lowering my hands, I trace the outline of her breasts. I brush my fingertips across her hardened nipples. She clenches her legs, rubbing herself against the length of my dick. I find the hem of her shirt and pull it off, breaking our kiss. She lets out a needy moan, and I groan when I see her chest. Her beautiful breasts are round and full. Her silky skin glows, and my mouth waters to taste it.
I cup her globes. Her head falls back as I stroke her soft flesh. Lowering my mouth to one gorgeous tip, I flick it with my tongue. She whimpers when I slide a hand between her legs, finding her wet pussy. She lets out a loud cry, pushing her hips against my hand. Fuck, she’s going to kill me. I tease her nipple, then gently tug it with my teeth.
“One day, I’ll fuck your tits,” I promise, imagining how hot it’d be to press those globes together while I slide my dick between them.
Stopping all at once, I grab her ass and push myself up off the chair, taking her to the bed. Once I settle her in the middle, I move my mouth to her other breast giving it the same care I did the first one. My hands are busy pushing down her skirt. My tongue stops the ministration and continues its way down her flat stomach. She tastes like an angel, and I’m almost sure I’m in heaven, yet I’m probably about to go to fucking hell for corrupting the most innocent person I’ve ever known.
“Should I keep going, Abby?” I ask as I’m about to pull down her pink, lacy panties.
She’s trembling and her breath is coming fast. I’m not sure if I’m doing something wrong or if she’s responding positively to my touch.
“We don’t need to go any further,” I reassure her, kissing her inner thighs, drunk on her scent and ready to lick her.
My dick throbs begging to be freed. I’m so ready to be inside her right this second. I know that tonight I’m not strong enough to continue, but I do want her to come undone. I take her mouth and kiss her sliding my hand into her underwear searching for her little pearl. Lust runs down my spine. She’s so fucking wet. It’d be easy to slide my cock down the slick channel.
As I kiss her, I imagine myself inside her. I stroke her clit; her breathing becomes shallow. I continue sliding my finger over her pussy down to her entrance. Her hips rock against my hand. My hand reaches further south, and I push in a finger. She cries out and I stop.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Her husky moan hits me right in the groin. “I’m with you.”
“You’re with me, letting me love you the way you deserve,” I reassure her.
She moans, gripping my biceps. I have two crooked fingers inside her tapping against her g-spot while my thumb rubs her clit. Fuck, the tightness around my fingers makes me clench my jaw. She’s so close, so hot. I’m loving the way she feels against my body, her reaction to my touch, and especially that she’s allowing me to be her first. Pure desire floods my brain, but I stop myself when she begins to tremble and cry with pleasure.
I kiss her, drinking in her orgasm. I feel the wetness from her tears before I realize she’s crying.
“What happened?” My blood freezes. Fuck, what did I do? “Did I hurt you?”
“Thank you,” she says, shaking her head. “You just helped me recover a little piece of myself.”
32
Abby
I feel alive, different. Everything he did with his mouth and his hands was perfect. I dare to say magical. My pussy clenches with the memory of his fingers buried deep inside me. It was scary at first, but his voice, his scent, and the way he touched me eased my fears. Tonight was better than I imagined. It ended on a nice note, until he excused himself and left for his room.
“Tonight, I’ll sleep in my bedroom,” he said, his face somber. His magnetic blue eyes though were two pools of desire.
He left me confused as fuck and wishing for a lot more. How can he expect me to be apart from him after that kiss, after he touched me?
As I told him, he gave me a little piece of myself back. In exchange, he took away a piece of my heart.
How can he just leave as if nothing’s transpired between us?
I hoped that after what happened he’d stayed in bed with me. Once I was done crying with pleasure, I still wanted more. He prom
ised that the next time he’d lick me dry, said it right after he sucked on his wet fingers.
Instead of staying next to me and cuddling, he left.
Stop thinking so hard, Abby. He’s a gentleman. Wes always keeps his word. If he said he’d take it slow, let him take it slow.
I start my nightly routine: a shower, followed by brushing my teeth, and putting on my pajamas. Once I’m done, I turn off my bedroom lights and make sure that all my nightlights are working. That’s when I hear the loud music.
“What the hell, Ahern?”
Why is he listening to Nine Inch Nails and so loud? Love that song, but “Closer” isn’t what I want to listen to while I’m trying to fall asleep. I ignore the music and start counting, but I swear that I can hear him grunting.
“That’s it. You’re not going to take away my little bliss and keep me awake all night with your noise and that music.”
I make my way over to his bedroom, ready to give him a piece of my mind. The light in his bedroom is on and the door is half-way open. As I’m about to open it wide, I spot him. He’s totally naked. His eyes are closed, one hand leans against the wall, and the other holds his dick.
My eyes open wide and though I’m aware that I should be walking away, I don’t move. I’ve seen him wearing swimming trunks and often admired his taut body, those long, muscular legs and his toned ass. I get a peek of his defined torso which is glistening with sweat. And those fingers, the same fingers that were inside me only minutes ago are now working his shaft.
His cock is long and thick. My legs shake as my core begins to throb with want. The music and his grunts are making me want more. I want to step into his room and help him get off. Would I be able to take him in my mouth? I’ve never done it, but right now, I’m fantasizing about doing it. What would it be like to suck his cock? The song switches to an old pop song that I hate, “Call Me Maybe.”
Suddenly I’m not in Tahoe, but in my old house. A man hovers over Ava who is on her knees crying. My heart thuds so loud it muffles the music. I stand, paralyzed with fear. My muscles cramp. I’m unable to move as I watch Ava being tortured by a man while her father yells at her and her brother holds a video camera. But then, it’s not her. It’s me in the corner.
Love in the Dark Page 143
