Too Good Girl

by Eleanor Lloyd-Jones

  I wanted to be swallowed whole with this feeling he was gifting me.

  Our eyes remained closed, and I gave in to his demanding lead. I let my head fall back between my shoulders and against the wall, dropping my arms to my sides as he travelled further with his hands, up and over my naked breasts again, this time smoothing his palms across them and rocking himself against me.

  I was weak.

  I was helpless to his touch, and as he lifted my top up my body and over my head, breaking away from me momentarily to capture my nipple in his mouth, I stood panting and whimpering, tears rolling down my temples into my ears and hair. I let him manipulate me, almost falling apart as he swirled his tongue in the dip at the base of my throat. He bent at the knees, lifting me under my thighs until I was wrapped around his waist, and then claimed my mouth with his again before spinning us around and laying me on my bed, his hand cradling the back of my head before crawling to hover above me.

  With my arms above my head, I didn’t dare open my eyes. I didn’t dare look at him. I wallowed in the feeling of complete wanton abandon and need, my whole body alight with his closeness, my centre pulsing with a delicious ache I now realised only he could satisfy. He hooked his fingers inside the waistband of my leggings, teasing the sensitive skin beneath them, and then lifted my hips to pull them and my briefs down my legs. I was so aware of how naked and exposed I was, but I lay there, open and waiting for him to take me to the next level.

  It was as if he knew.

  He didn’t try to talk to me.

  He didn’t stop.

  He didn’t give me a minute to change my mind.

  He knew this was what I needed right then.

  I felt him sit back and heard the ruffle of clothes, the tearing of foil and then the dip of the mattress either side of my head a split second before he was on me, over me, engulfing me in his Jack-ness again, the heat and weight of him covering me as he began a slow and sensual assault on my whole body with his mouth and tongue, with his hands and fingers and the tip of his nose, with his teeth and his breath...

  I groaned out loud, I inhaled, I sucked in cries and I let out whimpers. I let him see me cry over and over as he licked and kissed and stroked away everything I had been hiding from him. I bucked my hips as he stroked through my wetness, circling gently when he reached the most sensitive part of me where I all but fell apart beneath him. I moaned his name when he slid two fingers inside me, gently pulling and pushing as he circled his tongue around my belly button, my nipples.

  He was gentle, yet he took from me what I needed him to take with no apology.

  His fingers moved faster as he kissed my tears, kissed my hips and then licked and rubbed until my whole body shook with the most beautiful release. My back arched from the bed and he slipped his hand underneath, lifting me to his mouth and kissing my stomach while I rode it out, my wet heat rocking up against the heel of his hand. And as he lay me back down, the delicious weight of him smothered me again before he slid inside me and moved us until our bodies melted together like they’d been made to fit.

  I didn't have to open my eyes to know he was looking at me like I was a precious stone. I could feel it in the sounds he made, in the way his hands held me safe, in the way his body worshipped mine.

  And when he let out his final groan of pleasure and collapsed beside me, wrapping me up in his arms as I sobbed against his chest, I silently asked him to forgive me for what I already knew would come next.

  ***

  Still naked in his arms, I drifted off sometime around midday with the comforting trail of his fingertips down my back and up my arms, silence remaining a barrier between my heart and his. I felt him get out of my bed an hour or so later, but I stayed curled in a ball and allowed him to think I was still asleep.

  The sun had moved far across the sky when I finally opened my eyes to what we had done.

  What had we done?

  Well, we’d crossed a line—a line I’d drawn with indelible ink that I’d vowed not to let him step over.

  I’d let him in, and he’d entered with a force I’d not anticipated.

  And now I needed to push him out again.

  Jack was my constant and my reliable, and I needed him to stay that way. It wasn’t his job to be that unimportant person for me. I didn’t want him to become a crutch, someone I would run to when I needed to forget. He needed to remain impartial and not caught up in my drama, regardless of how much he claimed to care. The walls I’d erected had crumbled with my vulnerability the previous night, but now I needed to build them back up. Stronger this time. I needed to make sure he couldn’t see through them—see my fragile state any more than he already had.

  Including Jack in the list of things that would plague my every waking thought would only add to the problem.

  Once showered and dressed, I headed out for my session with Chris. The enormity of the previous night was now rattling around in my brain, putting me on edge, and I was quite desperate to talk to her for a change. Often I would turn up to my appointments just because I could sit there for an hour and be me without being judged. She was the third counsellor I’d seen through D.U.A.F, a charity that supported families of drug users, the first two not working out. Clive wasn’t someone I ever felt like opening up to, and after the second session, when I’d read some signs wrong and asked him to fuck me in his office, it kind of fell apart. Nicola had obviously known her stuff, but I’d always felt completely judged by her.

  And now I had Christine.

  We were a good match. Mostly because I could see how genuine she was just by looking in her eyes. She couldn’t fix me, I knew that and I think she did too, but she was always there: open to listening if I needed her to; open to letting me curl up on her sofa and cry if I needed to.

  When counselling had first been suggested to me by Jack, I’d scoffed of course. I didn’t need anyone’s help. I’d completely dismissed the idea on numerous occasions but finally decided that giving it a shot wouldn’t be all that bad. I almost quit after Nicola, but when I walked in and saw Christine for the first time, I knew I’d have a safe place to go whenever I needed it.

  I arrived in the foyer on the third floor and waited on one of the plastic chairs outside her office, my knees bouncing with anticipation. My mind was full, and I almost felt the need to press my hands against my ears to stop the whirring and the sadness from dragging me under.

  The sound of her door opening and the quiet, chatter of her and her current client saying goodbye had me standing up quickly and walking towards them.

  Christine glanced at me, holding two fingers up. “Two minutes, Syra. Okay? I have to make a quick call.”

  I bit my nail and nodded, pacing the floor and watching the scrawny kid who’d vacated disappear down the stairs.

  When she finally opened her door to me, I almost knocked her over in my rush to get into the room. I went straight to the window, placing both palms flat against the glass and inhaling deeply. The waves were calmer today, and there was the hint of sunshine reflecting off the surface of the ocean. The more I watched, the deeper I felt consumed.

  “Are you okay?” Christine appeared beside me, not too close, but close enough for me to feel the warmth of her kindness.

  I blinked and followed the flight path of a lone seagull as it swooped and dipped, searching for food. “No.”

  I felt her stillness.

  “Want to tell me about it?”

  I stepped back and turned towards her, nodding, before walking round to the armchair and sitting down. I waited for her to get comfortable, but as she reached for her notepad, I sat forwards and stopped her. “No. Can we… I dunno. Can we do this without you writing it all down today? I just want to talk.”

  Chris nodded and smiled, pulling her hand back, dropping it into her lap. “When you’re ready.”

  I folded my body over my legs and rubbed my hands up and down my face a few times before looking up at her over the to
ps of my fingers. Her expression was completely neutral, and I knew it would remain that way. She wouldn’t frown at me or ask me why. She wouldn’t pace the floor or rag her hands through her hair in frustration. She would let me talk until I’d had enough. Impartial. And that’s what I wanted Jack to be.

  “I had sex last night.” Inhaling, I closed my eyes before sitting up straight and gripping the arms of the chair. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

  Christine waited.

  “I came. For the first time. My whole body was on fire. My legs trembled, I cried… I came alive.” I swallowed a lump in my throat as I remembered Jack’s hands on me, the way he’d made me feel completely worthy with just his fingers, his tongue and his lips. I pressed my hands together between my knees and bit my bottom lip as Christine unfolded her legs and made a steeple with the tips of her fingers.

  “Do you know why it was so different?”

  “Wow. You know how to ask ‘em. Straight for the jugular there, Christine.” I slumped back and pulled my knees up, resting my heels on the edge of the chair cushion. Tipping my head back, I stared at the ceiling, focusing on my blinking and tapping my fingers on my shins. I brought my head down suddenly, looking Chris directly in the eyes. “It’s probably because it was with Jack.”

  She didn’t move a muscle. She was so good at this.

  “Do you want to talk to me about how it happened?”

  “Not really. Not today.”

  “Okay.”

  “It can’t happen again.”

  “Okay. Do you want to tell me why?”

  I tapped my front teeth together and looked out of the window at the murky sky. “Because it confuses everything. I mean, everything is confusing anyway. In my heart I mean. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how to be normal. And I need Jack to be away from all of that.” I looked back at her. “Jack’s my friend. He has his own problems. He doesn’t need to get caught up in mine as well.” I paused a moment. “I don’t want him mixed up in mine. I want to be able to forget about my shit when I’m hanging out with him, not talking about it more.”

  Christine nodded and reached for her glass of water. “Have you asked Jack what he wants?”

  My mouth turned down at the corners as I contemplated her question. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because he has an opinion, too.”

  I didn’t have a response, so I reached out and picked up a magazine that lay on the small table next to me. Flicking through the glossy pages, I felt Christine watching me. “What?” I turned another page and when she didn’t answer, I slammed it shut and raised my eyebrows at her.

  “Talk to him.”

  I shook my head. “I have nothing to say to him.”

  Syra

  Let You Love Me by Rita Ora

  Out Of Control by Glass Caves

  IT’S DIFFICULT AVOIDING a housemate, but I managed it again until the next morning. I was walking out of the kitchen as he came back into the house after I’d heard him leave twenty minutes before, and we met somewhere in the middle of the narrow hallway. Ducking my head a little, I muttered good morning and moved to walk past him, grabbing my jacket from the banister and swinging my bag strap over my head, ignoring the way my pulse began to thrum faster in my neck.

  He stood stock still, his arms hanging by his sides, and I felt his eyes move to watch me move.

  I was about to reach for the door handle when his hands were on me. Both of them. They gripped my upper arms and spun me around with a force that left me quite breathless as our chests fell together.

  His glare was hooded and hungry, and I Iicked my bottom lip, swallowing to hide my nerves and the anticipation that were now swirling in my belly. Regardless of what I wanted and how much I needed to keep him shut away, my body betrayed me. It was impossible to deny that I came alive when he touched me.

  It was different before.

  But now it was after.

  Now I knew what I was missing.

  “Jack.” There were no more words because I didn’t know what the hell to say. My mind was empty of everything but him, and so I merely blinked and tried to catch my breath as he continued to look at me like I was exactly what he’d been searching for.

  A few more seconds passed where we were wrapped up in the closeness of each other, and despite myself, the beating of my heart pleaded with him to dip his head and cover my mouth with his. I couldn’t ask for it with my voice, but I knew damn well my eyes were speaking for me—the tremble of my hands and the rise and fall of my chest telling him everything I couldn’t say out loud.

  His whole body was pressed against me, but the hesitation in his movements had me squeezing my eyes closed to stop a sudden onslaught of emotion and sadness from trickling down my cheeks in the form of tears—tears I’d hidden from him for so long but that had now found a way to squeeze through the cracks of my armour.

  Despite my efforts, I think one escaped because I felt the pad of Jack’s thumb as it slowly, and oh so fucking painfully softly brushed the skin on my cheekbone. The warmth of his breath on my forehead seeped into the very core of me, wrapping me up in a cloak of acceptance that almost brought me to my knees—a sharp sadness at the crazy situation and the fucked up decisions he refused to treat me differently for.

  When I finally opened my eyes again, another tear escaping, his face was creased with an emotion I couldn’t read, and as I took a step back, causing his hands to drop by his sides, I dipped my head to break the spell, to disconnect and push away. Adjusting the strap of my bag, I turned away from him and continued my journey to the front door.

  “Sy, please.”

  The desperation in his voice halted me in my tracks and I filled my lungs before holding the air there for a painful few seconds.

  What am I supposed to do?

  The question rattled around in my mind as I felt him close in on me again, and I began to shake my head and reach for the door handle.

  “Please.”

  I took hold of the cold metal and bit down on my lip. “Please what?”

  The tips of his fingers took hold of the tips of mine and the crack in his voice as he spoke his next words had me all the more convinced I was doing what needed to be done.

  “Let me in.”

  Pulling open the front door, I turned my head over my shoulder, smiling sadly at the hurt in his eyes. “There’s nothing to see.”

  I stepped out into the rain, closing the door behind me, and I ran.

  I ran down our street and round the corner onto the main road that snaked through the town. I ran in front of a car that had to slam on its breaks so I didn’t end up rolling across its bonnet. I ran down to the coast road that followed the length of the cove. And I ran across the grassy sand dunes, not stopping until I fell to my knees at the water’s edge.

  The waves were angry and unforgiving, lifting from the surface of the ocean in heavy crescendos before crashing and rushing to the shoreline. I grabbed at handfuls of sand, clawing at it with my fingers as I screamed to the elements, to God, to whoever the fuck would listen. It was a begging prayer of desperation, a song of pleading for someone to pluck me out of this thing called life and end the constant heartache and bullshit that seemed intent on keeping me captive.

  I constantly had all these emotions and feelings inside of me that I had no idea how to start controlling. Sometimes it was as if I didn’t even belong in my own head—like I was merely stopping by to have a look around. But I wasn’t ever just a visitor, because I was never able to leave: I was trapped. My head was the only place I ever lived—until I escaped into the arms of some stranger and pretended to be something I wasn’t. I needed to take a moment to catch my breath, to pause, because I was afraid that, if I didn’t, I would shrivel up and be tossed away by the wind, and I’d never quite managed it, until that night—the night I now couldn’t dust off or lock away.

  That night with Jack had been the only time I’d felt like I b
elonged anywhere, the only time I’d allowed myself to feel every single fucking thing.

  And that was why it had to remain as one night only.

  Jack did not deserve to be caught up in my shit.

  I didn’t know how long I’d sat there, sobbing to the skies, but when my phone rang in my bag, the vibration of it against my hip jolting me back to the reality of the day. Seeing what time it was, I jumped to my feet, wiping my face with the sleeves of my jacket as I swiped across my screen and held it to my ear. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m on my way. Something came up.”

  Liam’s voice on the other end was serious and pissed off as he explained how short staffed they were and that me being late in meant he’d had to jump on the tills for the breakfast time rush.

  “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

  And I did.

  Setting off at a fast pace across the beach and back up to the town centre, I pushed through the main doors of the supermarket, and within twenty minutes of clocking on, at the first sign of a lull, I was shoved up against the filling cabinet in the main office with Liam’s tongue down my throat and his fingers gripping my arse. I grimaced a few minutes later as he rammed his dick into me from behind, my cheek scraping up against the metal. I felt every bruise forming on my arms and with every thrust, I died a little more inside.

  Now was after.

  Now I knew that this was a poor substitute.

  But it was what it was, so I made the noises he wanted to hear, cursed myself for being so weak and cried in the toilets after he was finished.

  ***

  I was persuaded to work a double shift that day, and since I didn’t want to go home and face that look in Jack’s eyes, I agreed. And when Andy called in sick for the late shift, I stayed to work that too.

  It was almost eleven pm when Holly, the only female duty manager, sent me home, and I headed out of the doors, sure that I could sneak back into the house without a fuss.

  The town was lit with the orange glow of street lamps and darkness had fallen, revealing an inky, cloudless sky, pin pricks of stars smattering the expanse in twinkling clusters. Living by the sea meant the skies were often clear and visible. My dad and I used to sit on the back porch on nights like that one. He’d point out the constellations as we’d drink lemonade and munch on monkey nuts, and each time we were treated to a meteor shower, we’d link our pinky fingers together, squeeze our eyes tightly closed and whisper our wishes to the wind.