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 promised 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.
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.
“Take it, bitch,” Corbin commands. “I said take it.”
“I won’t do it, you can’t force me,” I cry my lungs out and scream. “This time you won’t catch me.”
I run fast, flying out of the house but not before I grab the car keys. He’s close, I can feel him. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I run away from everything. This time they won’t get to me. Distance is all that matters. I sure as hell won’t stop for anything. I turn on the engine, push the gas pedal twice. The roaring sound promises that I can be far away and safe.
“Abby!” I jolt when I hear my name. It’s Wes knocking on the window with both fists, desperately.
“Open the door. What’s happening?”
His wide eyes observe me, filled with worry and fear. I swallow not knowing what’s happening. Why did I react without thinking of where I really was? I am losing my grasp of reality.
“It’s okay,” he reassures me. “Turn off the engine and open the door. It’s me.”
My hand trembles as I reach for the button and turn off the engine. The locks open automatically. Wes swings the door open and takes me into his arms.
“What happened?”
I don’t know, I think without saying a word. They’re stuck inside my throat along with the tears. This is too much. I can’t. I just …
“You’re safe,” he says, his words sound empty, hesitant.
His doubt crashes against my chest and destroys me completely. From my eyes pours a thick flow of tears. I cry as if my insides are being shred. Emotional pain flows out of every pore of my body. I shake violently as the whole world vanishes before me. Everything is a blur, I breathe heavier than I ever have before, gasping for air. My throat burns. All I feel now is agony.
“We have to talk, Abby. This isn’t normal. What you said upstairs …”
What did I say?
I’m losing my fucking mind. I can feel it unravelling. Threats of all the memories I can recall from that time scatter all over the place. He’s just talking; there’s nothing incriminating I could’ve said. I know better than to let anyone know what happened in that house.
“Abby, what’s happening?”
Talk idiot. Say something.
Wes needs to know that I’m fine. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My upper body and shoulders wrack with every sob that forces its way out, my chest rising and falling unevenly as I gasp for air. I squeeze my eyes shut, balling my hands and throwing my head back to let out a blood curdling scream. There’s too much raw pain inside me to be contained.
He scoops me from the seat and carries me into the house. Once we’re in my room, he sets me on the bed and lies down next to me.
“I’m here for you, but in order to help you, you have to let me in.”
Why would I want him to be part of a world where there’s only darkness and ugliness? I cry harder like my spirit needs to break loose from my skin, desperate to release the agony and rage on the world. Wes’ soothing words make no difference this time. I’m beyond all reason, beyond any methods of calming.
Wes doesn’t give up and begins counting while pressing me against his body as if he’s trying to fuse us. I’m not strong enough to fight his hold or to join him. Suddenly my eyes are heavy, and his voice is a distant dream.
The house was dark. Mom left two days ago, promising to come back at night. There wasn’t anything in the refrigerator. The power was out. It was the beginning of winter. A bitter December. Grandma, who never left me by myself, died only days before. I recalled the day she lectured me for wanting to stay home alone.
“Not until you’re thirteen and you show me that you’re responsible enough to be on your own. Kids should always be supervised.”
My mother didn’t care for me. When she left, I pleaded for her to stay or take me with her.
“Please,” I whimpered quietly, afraid she’d hit me.
“If you draw any attention to yourself, you’re going to pay, stupid kid.” She banged the door as she locked it.
At night, I counted along with Elly, my stuffed elephant. The one Grandma gave me when I was little. Morning came and went. My stomach growled. I missed two days of school. I missed the spelling test and the new words for the next week.
I waited right by the door. On the third night, she finally made it home. When she saw me, her eyes flared.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for some food.”
“You don’t deserve anything,” she screamed.
“Grandma always fed me.”
“Look at me.” She pulled me by the hair and closed the door behind her.
“I said look at me!” she squeezed my cheeks very hard after slapping me a few times. My face stung.
“You’re hurting me,” I mumbled, tears dripping slowly down my face. “Grandma never hurt me.”
“I don’t fucking care what my mother did or didn’t do,” she screamed into my face, her hot stinky breath burning my eyes. “She’s dead!”
“Grandma loved me.” I squeezed my stuffed elephant tighter.
“My mother didn’t love anyone. She was just as bad as my drunken father,” she screamed into my face, her hot stinky breath burning my eyes. “Dad hit me with his fist. She hurt me with her attitude.”
She slapped me hard. My head snapped back, and the room spun. I touched my burning cheek and stared at her with hate. Mother snatched Elly and pulled a lighter out of her purse. She lit it and held it under Elly.
“Not Elly!” I screamed, running after her. She dropped my stuffed elephant into the sink. I cried harder while the flames consumed it.
“I hate you!” I yelled at her. “I want Grandma back.”
33
Wes
“Abby!” I shake her lightly trying to wake her up.
“Elly, I need Grandma … I hate you.” Abby thrashes her arms and legs desperately.
She
hasn’t been asleep for long. She cried for hours and whimpered a few times after she fell asleep. Everything she says is incoherent, yet scary when I analyze her words. My unsteady hand combs through her long hair as I whisper for her to come back to me, to wake up.
I still hear her voice while I was jacking off.
“I won’t do it, you can’t force me,” she screamed. “This time you won’t catch me.”
Her eyes were lost somewhere else. She’s confusing the present with her traumatic past. Please, God, help me. I can’t handle seeing her hurt this much. I’m at a loss. I have no idea what to do anymore.
“Abby, baby. Please wake up,” I beg her.
Her red, swollen eyes open slowly. Her gaze travels everywhere around the room, and when it finally focuses on me, Abby shuts her eyes again.
“Abby,” I say kissing her forehead.
“I think I’m going crazy,” she lets out a little whimper.
“Why do you think that?”
“Every little thing triggers the memories. Then it’s like they’re following me. I swear, I saw Shaun outside the office.” She looks around carefully not meeting my eyes. She bobs an awkward nod.
“Or was it Corbin? I’m not sure.” She draws a sharp breath. “But how did they find me?”
“What are you talking about?” My mind goes blank. I tilt my head reading her expression. It’s pointless—too many emotions swirl in that lost gaze.
She sits up, moving herself farther away from me. The simple withdrawal feels like a punch in the gut.
Abby covers her eyes, shaking her head. “Don’t mind me. I’m going insane. It’s just my imagination. The guilt eating me. My past finally catching up because of what I did.”
“What did you do?” My mind races, searching for answers.
She goes still, her chin quivering. “I let them abuse her.”
Abby extends her hand toward the nightstand, seeking the teddy bear Dad gave her when she first came to live with us; she grabs it tightly with both hands. As her knuckles turn white, she mutters tearfully to herself: “I didn’t do enough.”
Begin with You Page 17
