Stripped

by Nicola Marsh

  He pushes open the solid mahogany door and waits until I pass before letting it close. I barely have time to register a smallish room that resembles a brothel from the fifties—crimson carpet, drapes and bedspread, with purple lamp shades, recliner and vinyl-topped desk, and gold accenting everywhere—before he’s on me. Grabbing my wrists and lifting them overhead. Pinning me to the wall. His body flush against mine.

  It’s exactly what I want.

  ‘You drive me wild,’ he mutters, claiming my mouth in a searing kiss that sizzles all the way down to where I want him most.

  My nipples peak, craving the relief only his mouth can give. As if reading my mind he dips his head and nips them through the cotton of my shirt, a sharp bite that’s more pleasure than pain.

  I can’t keep still. I writhe against him, my hips undulating of their own accord. He holds my wrists overhead with one hand and uses the other to rip open my shirt. Thank goodness for pop stud buttons.

  Then his mouth is on me. On my collarbone, my chest and finally my nipples when he flicks my bra hooks open at the back.

  He laves and licks and sucks, moving from right to left, leaving the nipples rigid and wet. Then he blows the faintest puff of air on them and I’m arching off the wall.

  ‘Please, Hart...don’t make me beg.’

  The corner of his mouth crooks. ‘Might be kind of fun.’

  ‘No. You. Inside me. Now.’

  I’m bossy and petulant and he laughs.

  ‘Okay.’ He releases my wrists and they fall limply to my side. I’m tingling, though I doubt it’s from the lack of circulation. Because it’s spreading all over my body, starting from my breasts that he’s staring at like the best damn thing he’s ever seen, all the way down to my toes.

  ‘But first, I must do this.’ He drops to his knees and eases my skirt and panties down in one go. There’s no waiting, no preamble; his mouth is on me and I let out a moan.

  He tongues my clit with the perfect pressure, the perfect rhythm, just freaking perfect... I’ve been on the edge since the taxi ride and my muscles quickly tense, the pleasure spiralling out of control as my orgasm hits like a freight train, making my knees buckle.

  I have no idea I’m bucking until he steadies my hips with his hands and places an almost chaste kiss above my bikini line.

  Then he’s unzipping and sheathing and inside me. Hard and long and thick, a wistful sigh escaping my lips.

  I want this all the time.

  I want him all the time.

  Not just because of how he makes me feel, like no other man can ever fulfil me this way, but because I deserve this.

  I deserve him, no matter how damn unworthy he thinks he is.

  His mouth covers mine in a soft kiss that defies the way he’s pounding into me. In and out. So hard. So good. Over and over until I’m climbing again, winding tighter and tighter, ready to come apart.

  My thighs tremble and he changes the angle of our joined pelvises by bending his knees a little. It’s enough to push me over as I groan into his mouth. It drives him a little nuts as he thrusts into me so hard I’m now standing on tiptoes, my head clunking the wall.

  I don’t think it registers because he’s devouring me with his mouth and a second later he comes, wrenching his mouth from mine to stare at me like I’ve given him the greatest gift.

  It’s disarming, the intensity of his stare. I can’t get a read on it and as we stand there, with him still inside me, our bodies slick with sweat, our chests heaving with the effort of dragging air into our lungs, I don’t know what confuses me more. The fact his expression is fearful and hesitant while his eyes are adoring and tender or the fact I’m terrified of discovering that in following my heart I may have lost him anyway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Hart

  I’M HANGING ONTO my sanity by a thread.

  I never should’ve allowed Daisy to lead me astray.

  Fuck, I sound like some naïve kid. What a joke. From the moment I laid eyes on her at the airport in Melbourne I wanted her with a ferocity that shakes my belief system to the core.

  I deliberately chose a hotel near the Cross so that we could walk to the skate ramp afterwards. But now that the time has come, I’m reluctant. I’d rather stay in this hotel room for ever.

  Which is enough to propel me out of bed and into the shower and out onto the street faster than I can blink.

  Daisy knows I’m running. She hasn’t called me on it because she’s too high on loved-up endorphins. But she will. And I’m dreading it. The moment when I finally reveal my true self she’ll be let down like all the rest and she’ll bolt.

  I’m counting on it.

  ‘Is it far?’

  ‘No.’ I’m monosyllabic and have been since we left the hotel on foot five minutes ago.

  ‘So do I get a clue about this great revelation?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘A man of few words. I like it.’

  I shoot her a scathing glare and it bounces off her like the rays of sunshine glinting off her hair. It’s been a long day and dusk will fall soon but she looks as fresh as a...well, as a daisy. Shit, even my thoughts are turning corny.

  ‘Does nothing I say faze you?’

  ‘No.’ She pauses and her cheeky grin is infectious. ‘There. How do you like a one-word answer?’

  ‘Love it.’

  ‘Liar,’ she says and takes my hand. I let her. While I want to drive her away permanently, if I can make this as painless as possible for her I will.

  We round the corner, walk another block and we’re there. A grungy skate ramp tucked into the back streets of Australia’s seediest suburb, renowned for its pimps and hookers and drugs. King’s Cross always draws a crowd, from curious tourists to bucks’ parties looking for a good time. But its faux glitz hides a multitude of sins and I’ve seen them all.

  The kids that hang out here are hiding from something or running from something or both. I know I was.

  We stop on the outskirts, behind a half-collapsed chain-link fence. Not much has changed. There’s a rectangular patch of cracked concrete to the left, with one basketball hoop at the far end, and a bunch of ramps of varying heights to the right. Kids cluster around both ends. Some are on skateboards, some are passing a basketball back and forth, all sport the same wary expressions with darting eyes and permanent scowls.

  ‘What is this place?’

  ‘An escape for kids, mostly foster, a few runaways.’ I point to a small tin shed near the hoop. ‘That’s where the drug deals get done.’ I wave towards an alley that snakes behind the ramps. ‘And that’s where the creeps gutter crawl to pick up the kids willing to do anything for money.’

  To her credit she doesn’t recoil like I expect but the sadness down-turning her mouth and the pity in her eyes guts me.

  ‘You used to hang out here.’

  It’s a statement, but I know there’s a bunch of questions hovering. I want her to ask. I want to shock her. I want to drive her away.

  ‘Yeah, I hung out here every chance I got. I was eleven. Living in a nightmare and the kids here were the only ones who got me.’

  She squeezes my hand. ‘Tell me about the nightmare.’

  I don’t want to talk. Talking achieves nothing. How many dumb-ass psychologists have tried to get me to open up? Countless but they were useless. I fed them the usual trite drivel: I’m sad because I don’t have parents; I’m mad because I have to live with a bunch of strangers who don’t give a shit about me; I’m bad because it gets me attention. They offered trite platitudes, not having a clue as to the emptiness that made my chest ache on a daily basis.

  She’s looking at me expectantly and I have to give her something now that I’ve started down this track.

  ‘It’s the usual nightmare for kids like me. Channelling anger to push people away and scare them into thi
nking I was a badass before they hurt me. Being labelled a troublemaker because of it. Doing all kinds of bad shit to ensure I kept them at arm’s length. Ensuring I hurt them before they hurt me.’

  ‘You must’ve tolerated so much.’ She leans into me, resting her head on my bicep. She doesn’t offer a pity-filled apology, which surprises me. ‘I know this doesn’t make up for what you went through, but you’re an amazingly strong man and I think your experiences have shaped you.’

  They sure have. But not in a good way. I can’t shake the instinct to run. It’s ingrained now. It’s who I am. Not even Pa’s unswerving and undeserving faith swayed me. He did everything in his power to make me stay: he trusted me, he adored me, he loved me. I ran anyway.

  He hid it well but I gutted him and I’ll end up doing the same to Daisy. I’m doing her a favour in pushing her away first. Much easier if I end this now.

  ‘See those kids shooting hoops?’

  She nods, her cheek brushing my arm. It feels nice, having her this close. I make the most of it because it won’t be for much longer.

  ‘They’ll end up beating the crap out of each other soon.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because anger festers and builds and trying to blow off steam throwing a basketball around isn’t enough.’

  As if on cue, a puny kid with straggly hair shoves a bigger boy square in the chest and it’s on. The boys push and punch, fists flying, with the occasional kick thrown in.

  Daisy gasps as one of the kids falls to the ground and another kicks him in the guts, leaving him clutching his stomach and rolling around. The fight breaks up after that and they resume dribbling the ball, passing it, and shooting. The kid on the ground pushes to his feet after a few moments and joins in.

  ‘You wanted me to stop that, didn’t you?’

  She glances up at me and the tears in her eyes slug me. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘It would’ve only inflamed them, having an older dude step in.’ I bark out a laugh devoid of amusement. ‘Trust me, I know. Been there, done that, still have the scars to prove it.’

  ‘Is that how you got that scar on your hip? And the one on your lower back?’

  She sounds on the verge of tears, which slays me, but it’s what I want: for her to understand why we can never be together.

  ‘Yeah. I was wrestling with a mean kid on the ground and a passer-by tried to intervene. The fight got worse, knives came out, I got nicked twice.’

  Her hand flies to her mouth. ‘You were stabbed?’

  ‘More like glancing blows with the pointy end but it hurt like the devil.’

  She buries her face in my chest and I’m left with no option but to hold her. I want to dip my face to her hair and inhale so badly that I feel light-headed but I resist.

  I need her to be appalled so I keep talking.

  ‘What happened to me with that knife didn’t hurt half as much as constantly being called a bunch of names I can’t repeat, or forever being told you’re fucking worthless so that soon you believe it, or being so fucking angry at my shitty life that I beat up on any kid I could whenever I could—’

  ‘Stop.’ She pushes off my chest and tilts her head to look up at me. Her cheeks are tear-stained, her eyes bloodshot. ‘I get it. You think I’ll be repulsed by what you went through so I won’t want to be with you any more.’

  She shakes her head and more tears seep out of the corners of her eyes. ‘But I l-like you and hearing all this breaks my heart.’

  That makes two of us, because I know walking away from Daisy is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  ‘I’m telling you this so you understand why I can never be in a relationship.’ I take her face in my hands, cupping gently, splaying my fingers wide over her ears so she hears what I have to say. ‘I’m broken inside. I can’t forget the horrors no matter how hard I try. And I’ve tried. Professionals, meds, nothing worked. So I cope the best I can by helping kids like me. It soothes something inside me but it will never ever fix me.’

  Tears trickle down her cheeks and drip onto my thumbs. ‘You don’t need to be fixed. You need to allow someone in—’

  ‘Please don’t tell me what I need.’ I release her and step back, starting the process to distance myself. It hurts like a bastard, far worse than the sting of those knife wounds. ‘I know I can’t give anything more of myself than I already have. And yeah, I admit it’s been a lot more than sex between us. And I feel more for you than I ever have for any other woman. But I can’t do this, Daisy.’

  My throat tightens but I force the words out. ‘I can’t be the man you want.’

  I turn away and swipe a hand across my eyes so she doesn’t see the evidence of how badly I wish things were different.

  ‘I brought Pa here once, to show him where I came from—’

  ‘No, you brought him here to push him away like you’re trying to do to me.’ She lays a hand on my shoulder and spins me back round to face her. ‘How did he react?’

  ‘Appalled, like you, but he tried to hide it.’ I bark out a laugh. ‘He had the audacity to try and turn our visit into a happy memory for me.’ I point to the hoops. ‘He made me wait until most of the kids left, then we shot a little one-on-one.’

  The memory makes me choke up. ‘He was a good man and I didn’t do right by him either.’

  ‘He loved you. Sometimes that has to be enough.’

  Startled, I search her eyes for answers and end up losing myself in the shimmer of her tears. I need to pull her out of this fanciful dream where the two of us end up together.

  ‘You were right, by the way. About my issues stemming from my dad abandoning me.’ My gaze drifts to the fence and the kids beyond it. ‘The moment he dumped me is the first time I lost trust in everybody and I’ve never been able to regain it.’

  I point to the hoop in the distance. ‘Even that day Pa tried so hard to make this place better for me, he disappointed me, because he never truly understood why I brought him here.’

  Confusion creases her brow. ‘To push him away, right?’

  I shake my head, tapping my chest. ‘Not just that. I needed him to validate what I’d been through, to acknowledge that it all started with his daughter abandoning me, hell, maybe to even take some of the blame. Which is ridiculous, I know that, but I had so many years of pent-up frustration that I needed him to be my saviour and when he didn’t live up to my expectations when I brought him here... I kind of lost faith in anything good happening for me, ever.’

  She’s staring at me, wide-eyed, and what I see terrifies me more than anything: acceptance, understanding, with a healthy dose of pity thrown in.

  ‘Maybe part of the guilt you harbour surrounding your grandfather and not being good enough for him is misplaced.’ She hesitates, before continuing. ‘Maybe you regret not being as close to him as you would’ve liked? That what happened here, him disappointing you, is your way of justifying that?’

  I hate how damn insightful she is and in that moment, I realise she’s right. If Pa and I were as close as I thought, I would’ve been there for him at the end; and before that, for all those years when I abandoned him before he could do the same to me.

  ‘But just so you know, you are worthy.’ She presses her hand to my heart. ‘And I won’t let you down.’

  I want to believe her, I really do. I’ve tried so hard to push her away yet she’s still here and for a moment I contemplate giving in.

  I can let go of a lifetime’s resentment and fear right now. I can let her in. I can have belief that she won’t disappoint me, that she won’t quit on me, that she won’t abandon me.

  I want to do it. She’s helped lead me to this moment.

  I open my mouth to speak but the words don’t come. My throat is tight, clogged with the fear of taking a leap of faith.

  Instead, I shake my head and her quiet sob undoes me comple
tely.

  I hold out my hand, waiting until she takes it before we start walking away from my past and into a future filled with lifelong uncertainty.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Daisy

  HART THINKS HE knows me but he doesn’t; especially the part where I don’t quit. Ever. Sure, I’ve told him repeatedly but he doesn’t believe me. He’s a sceptic. Considering what he’s showed me at the skate park, I don’t blame him.

  As we walk back to the hotel I don’t argue or plead with him. It’s not the time. His emotions are raw and I can’t talk past the tears clogging my throat, so we stride in silence. He’s walking fast, like he can’t wait to ditch me, and I keep up because I’m too scared that if I release his hand he’ll bolt.

  He has revealed so much of himself, expecting me to walk away. But I can’t. I won’t.

  I love him.

  I don’t give up on the people I love.

  He has taught me that.

  Not my family, not me, him. By doing his utmost to push me away, he’s opened my eyes to how determined I can be when I really want something.

  He expects me to walk away so I’ll prove my love to him by doing the exact opposite. I won’t quit. Not this time.

  I won’t give up on Hart like all the other people in his life.

  When we reach the hotel, he pauses outside and tries to slip his hand out of mine. I tighten my grip.

  Adlers don’t quit, Daisy. I’ve never been so happy to hear Dad’s annoying voice in my head. It gives me the courage to face the next ten minutes; such a short snapshot in time but one that will shape my future. Our future, hopefully.

  ‘I need to show you something up in the room and then if you still want to leave, you can leave.’ I sound remarkably calm for someone wanting to blubber because I’m filled with uncertainty and fear.

  Hart’s past has shaped him, I get that, like mine has influenced me. I want him in my life. Not because I see him as some challenge not to quit from, but because he makes me feel happier than I’ve ever been. Despite his moods and his recalcitrance, I know deep down he’s the one I want to be with and that’s worth fighting for.